When she finally noticed it, there was this huge relief. I was sitting on her bed and we were talking while she folded laundry. She looked at her watch a few times and then got this questioning look on her face and took it off.
“Hmmm. The battery must be dead,” she said, laying it on her night table. Well, Mom is one of those people who always says she feels lost without a watch on, so it was no surprise that she went to get the one she wears when she goes out somewhere. She opened the jewellery box, and I could see that she was puzzled. She stared at it for a few seconds before it clicked in that something was missing.
“That's odd,” she said. “I wonder what happened to the mirror.”
Of course, I burst into tears and sobbed and sobbed. Mom stared at me, first in astonishment and then in alarm.
“Why, Shelby, honey, it's all right.” She wrapped me in her arms and held me while I bawled out how sorry I was and that I hadn't meant to do it.
“I know you didn't, sweetheart. But why didn't you just tell me when it happened?”
And that was the thing that stayed with me, how I'd suffered for all that time when all I had to do was go and own up in the first place. I should have known that Mom wouldn't be upset over something like that.
Well, this was different, but the feeling was the same, that horrible waiting to be found out. Only this time there was no chance that anyone was going to tell me it was all right. I wondered how long Greg was going to take to spill the whole story.
By Wednesday I was an absolute wreck! Every time I heard someone laugh I was sure that it was starting. Betts noticed that something was bothering me and asked a few times where my head was at and what on earth was wrong with me. Part of me wanted to tell her the truth and get it over with, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it.
I should be able to trust Betts, seeing as she's my best friend and all. But it's hard when she's so interested in every single thing that's going on around her, especially things that have gossip value. For example, right from the time the fires first started, she clipped every single newspaper story on the subject, and had even started a scrap-book just for that. It was kind of amusing in a way, since she normally acts as if reading is worse than a trip to the dentist. In any case, I said nothing to her. It would have been a hundred times worse if she spread the story about
my stupidity than if it came from Greg.
Then, after school on Wednesday, my worries were interrupted by another small drama. As with any other day, there were quite a few kids standing around, some of them waiting for their buses and others just chatting before heading home. I'd been trying to find a notebook in my locker, so I was a few minutes late coming out of the school. That was when Nick called out to me.
“Shelby. Over here.”
“What do you want?” I called back. It seemed rude of him to summon me that way, instead of just coming over.
“I want to talk to you.” He was wearing that smile that could always make me weak in the knees, but this time it wasn't affecting me at all.
“Then
you
come
here
,” I said.
I thought that might make him mad, since he's not used to being refused. But he just smiled again and sauntered over.
“I've been thinking,” he stretched his words out, like he was creating some big drama, “that the two of us would make a pretty fine couple.”
He sounded very sure of himself, and that just annoyed me more. I said nothing.
“So, what do you think, babe?” He was standing in what I couldn't help think was a posed stance, with a finger tucked into the belt loops on his jeans and his chest thrust out.
“What do I think about what?”
“About what I just asked you.” His smile was fading fast, and I could see impatience on his face. I guess he'd expected me to swoon and gush that it would be wonderful, or something like that.
“You didn't ask me anything,” I pointed out. “You just made a comment.”
People were looking and listening. I could feel it, and I knew he could too. He had to turn things around fast or he was going to lose face.
“You want the big question do you?” he forced another smile. “Well, I guess I can do that. So, what do you say about us hooking up?”
“Thanks, Nick,” I answered evenly. My heart was pounding and I didn't know why. “But no thanks.”
“No?” He looked incredulous. “You have to be kidding.”
“Why would I be kidding? It was nice of you to ask, and I appreciate it, but you're really not my type.” And then I walked away.
I could hear the buzz of voices behind me, and I have to admit it felt pretty good to know that Nick Jarvis, the great jock, had been turned down right in public and that I was the one who had done it.
Maybe now he'd have some small inkling of how Annie had felt when he and Kelsey had embarrassed her so cruelly. I guess that was stretching it though. Nick
wasn't the type to give much thought to anyone else's feelings. He might be humiliated, but he'd never make the connection with how he'd made someone else feel.
Betts called me the second I got in the door at home.
“You actually did it!” she almost screamed. “You said no to him. I can't believe it.”
“I didn't know you were even there when it happened,” I laughed, remembering what she'd said yesterday and pleased that she'd gotten her wish.
“I was talking to Derek,” she explained. “He is
so
dreamy! Anyway, we heard the whole thing. Everyone there did. You should have seen Nick's face when you walked away. He was furious!”
“I'm sure he'll get over it,” I said dryly, “the only person Nick is really into is himself. He couldn't date someone who doesn't feel the same way about him that he does.”
That made Betts giggle, but it also reminded me of how Greg had once told me that Nick was totally wrong for me. I wondered if he'd been around when I'd refused Nick.
I found myself hoping he had been, although I had no idea why it mattered.
After all, even if I was interested in Greg, which, I hastily reminded myself, I was
not
, there was no way we would ever end up together now.
When I'd finished talking to Betts, I saw that there was a note on the table. It was from Dad, explaining that he and Mom had gone over to Veander, a nearby city, and would be late getting home. I peeked in the fridge, knowing that Mom would have left a plate for my dinner. Sure enough, there was cold chicken and pasta salad waiting for me.
I closed the fridge, not yet hungry, and began wandering through the house in boredom, trying to think of something to do. Then I remembered the pictures I'd been about to look at on Saturday. You know, the pictures I'd set aside so that I could go make a big fool of myself at Greg's place.
I brought the file upstairs from the darkroom and spread it out on the kitchen table where the light was good.
There were quite a few, and it was fun looking through them. I was surprised to find one of Betts and Greg and me in the middle of our snow fight on Christmas Day. In that shot, Greg was standing behind me to the left, his hand poised with a snowball that he was clearly about to lob at Betts. She was crouched down, laughing, her hands scrunching snow into a ball. I seemed to be yelling something while I brushed a clump of snow off my jacket.
I closed my eyes and tried to recapture the moment in memory. When I looked again, I noticed that even though Greg was aiming at Betts, his eyes were directed at me. There was a smile playing on his mouth, and I could almost read his thoughts. If I was right, he was definitely thinking something nice â about me.
Well, I'd sure put an end to that!
I flipped through more pictures and found that a number had been taken last year at a big picnic the school had organized one Saturday in June.
I noticed Jane standing next to Nick in one shot from the picnic. She'd been after him even then. It was weird that when he'd finally asked her out she never wanted to go anywhere with him. She wasn't in any of the other pictures taken that day, and I recalled that she'd left early, looking resentful as usual, when her stepfather came by for her.
There were a couple of shots of us around a fire we'd made for cooking hot dogs. Peering closely at the expressions on the faces around the fire, I was struck by the fact that a few of the kids looked almost hypnotized by the flames. I giggled at the sight of Annie, who seemed to be in some sort of deep trance.
It's neat the way looking through pictures brings back memories, things that you'd never think of again otherwise. It made me realize just how many details we have stored in our brains. You think that little things are gone and that you'll never find them again, but they're actually just tucked away, waiting in case you ever need them.
By the time I'd finished looking at the pictures, eaten, and done my homework, I was ready for bed. I was almost asleep when I heard a tap on my bedroom door, and Mom and Dad came in to say goodnight. That was the last thing I remembered that day!
Thursday and Friday passed quickly, and there were definite reactions to the fact that I'd turned Nick down. Some girls were outright admiring and made comments to me about how glad they were that I'd put him in his place. Others were scornful and made no secret of the fact that they thought I was insane for passing up such a hot guy.
None of that mattered much. I knew I'd done the right thing for me. There were a few moments of regret, but they disappeared fast when I reminded myself that he
really wasn't such a great person after all. I think maybe his popularity was partly responsible for him being the way he was: if you've gone through school riding on popularity and looks, there's not all that much incentive to also be nice. Nick had always gotten what he wanted because of the way he looked and his status on the sports teams. When you think about it, those aren't really very good reasons to admire a person, but they'd worked for him. When it came right down to it, I figure he'd learned to expect certain things because the way everyone treated him had made him feel like it was his due.
It didn't take long to see that I'd made an enemy for life. Nick made more than one comment about me that wasn't what you'd call polite, and he sure didn't worry about keeping his voice down when he did it. The first one I heard caught me off guard, and I was too stunned to react. After all, it wasn't as if I'd done anything horrible to him. Girls turned guys down all the time, and vice versa. Not many of them felt the need to go around hurling insults because of it.
The next time I heard a nasty remark I was prepared. I walked right up to him and said that I was sorry if I'd hurt his feelings. I made sure my voice was as loud as his.
“As if!” he sneered. “You should have known that the only reason I asked you out was because I felt sorry for you.”
“The way you're acting now looks more like you feel sorry for yourself,” I retorted. “I realize that your pride is hurt, but you don't have to make it so obvious.”
“Who do you think you are?” he yelled angrily. “You're
nobody
, that's who. A big, fat, ugly nobody.”
“Come on, Nick, let it go. I'm sure there are lots of other girls who'd love to go out with you. And why wouldn't they? After all, you're so
nice
.”
Laughter met my final comment and Nick whirled around in fury, glaring at the gathering crowd.
“Give it up, man. You're no match for her.”
I was astonished to see that it was Greg who had spoken. Silence descended on the group so fast it was unbelievable. The students were kind of holding their breath, waiting to see what Nick was going to do next. There was no way he could allow a guy to talk to him like that without doing something about it. Sure enough, he turned to face Greg.
“Shut your mouth, pansy boy, or I'll shut it for you.”
“Be my guest.” Greg smiled evenly. He took a step forward.
“You don't want to mess with me,” Nick warned menacingly.
“Sure I do.” Greg's smile got wider. “I'd love to.” He looked as though he meant what he'd said, although I couldn't picture him in a fight. Nick fought dirty and mean, and no one ever took him on.
And then the most amazing thing happened. Nick backed down! He mumbled that it wasn't worth getting kicked off the team, turned around, and walked away.
As everyone drifted away, whispering to each other about what had just taken place, I glanced at Greg. For a second he met my eye, but then he looked away and walked off. That gave me the strangest feeling, a hurt that started in the pit of my stomach and spread out all through me.
I wished I could just talk to him, even for a few minutes. I wanted to tell him that I was honestly and truly sorry for last Saturday and to thank him for speaking up to Nick like that. The way he was avoiding me at school, there was no way I was going to get a chance to do it, though. And I sure couldn't go to his place. It looked hopeless.
It wasn't until Friday evening, sitting in my room, that a solution popped into my head. What if I went to Broderick's when he was working on Saturday? It was possible he'd tell me to get lost, but I felt that I had to try.
Satisfied with this plan, I picked up the book his dad had lent me. I was almost finished reading it and had filled half a writing tablet with notes on the subject. My lists of names were there too, but I hadn't found the time to compare the signs and symptoms in the book with the names.
I wondered what I would do if I found that some of the kids fit the patterns. That
might
mean they'd been victims of sexual abuse, but it didn't mean that any of them were guilty of setting the fires. I wasn't keen on the idea of jumping to any more wrong conclusions!
I went through my notes carefully and separated the symptoms into two categories. Some of them, like nightmares, were things that you'd only know if you were living with the person. That wouldn't be of much use to me. The other list was the one I would use as a reference and included the things I might be able to figure out.