People start showing up
about
an hour after the
designated time, per usual. The drinks start flowing, and everyone
seems to be having a good time.
Scott and I are dancing to a slow song.
Although I have my doubts, I still want to see where this
relationship goes. He seems more
into
me than I am
into
him, but maybe I’ll get there with time. This
relationship is so new, plus we’re still in high school. If we
don’t work
out,
that
won’t be the end of the world. I
think that’s where I’m different from my friends. Emma gets
attached easily, and Sara did the one time, but if her behavior
tonight indicates anything, it’s that she won’t be getting serious
anytime soon. Her heartbreak destroyed her, and although she
doesn’t flat-out say it, I know it’s true.
Scott and I finish our dance, and that’s when
I hear a disturbance behind me coming from the kitchen. I recognize
the voice so I rush through the crowd to see what’s going on.
I walk in and Sara is standing on the kitchen
island, obviously drunk, yelling obscenities at the surrounding
people. “You’re a bunch of hypocrites! You know that? Every fucking
one of you!”
I quickly rush over and start grabbing for
her hand, but she’s swatting away my every attempt. I don’t even
think she knows it’s me; she has absolute tunnel vision for the
spectators in front of her.
“
Because I give my heart and virginity
to a douchebag,
I’m
the whore?
How does that even make sense? How about
you,
Hilary?” She points her finger at the
scantily dressed girl in the crowd who has a sneer on her face.
“Didn’t half of the fucking football team run a train on you?” The
voices in the crowd let out a shared, “Oooh.” Hilary’s face is on
the verge of turning purple, and I can tell more drama is
coming.
“
You’re just mad ‘cause Dustin was
tired of having a loose girlfriend,” Hilary spits at
Sara.
That’s when I see it—the rage burning in
Sara’s eyes. It was just a dull burn before, but Hilary just added
the gasoline.
Suddenly, Sara lets out a yell before jumping
into the crowd and landing on top of Hilary. She immediately begins
throwing punches with one hand while grabbing a handful of hair in
the other.
I quickly scramble over to her and grab her
arm. Luckily, Scott is with me because he grabs her around her
waist and pulls.
We were able to separate her from Hilary, but
she was still kicking and screaming to get out of his hold.
Hilary gets to her feet and runs her
hands over her hair and face. She still has a look of disbelief on
her
face,
but that
quickly changes to anger as she begins to rush forward. I
immediately put myself between her and Sara.
I turn to Scott. “Take her upstairs to the
guest bedroom, and I’ll be up there in a second.” Scott nods his
head and pulls Sara along with him.
Hilary tries to follow, but I step to
the side and block her. “Don’t, Hilary. I’m serious. I know Sara,
and I know you provoked her. She wouldn’t have
gone
off like that otherwise.”
“
Oh, do you, Melody? Do you
know
her? She’s a slut, and she
deserves everything that was coming her way.”
I dig my teeth into my lip trying to stop
myself from saying all the obscenities that are coming. It works
but barely. I’ve been drinking, but not so much that my filter is
gone.
I step close to Hilary and lower my
voice. “You really don’t have room to talk, so I suggest you shut
your mouth before I let a
shitty
secret slip.” I stare at her for a second before I turn to
leave and find Sara. I can hear Hilary behind me saying she has no
idea what I’m talking about, but we both know That’s not
true.
Hilary has always been rude. We’ve gone to
school together since kindergarten, and I can’t remember one
instance when she’s been nice. I never cared much, but I kept my
distance and took everything she said with a grain of salt. Plain
and simple, she’s a bitter person and likes to bring people down
with her.
So, I was surprised when she needed my
help last year. One day in the middle of my third period English
class, I had asked for a bathroom pass. As I walked into the
ladies’ room, I could hear soft cries coming from one of the
stalls. I had no idea who it was, but I knocked on the stall and
asked if they were okay. To my surprise, Hilary answered and said
that she did. I had just assumed she was having lady troubles,
which
so
was not the
case.
“
What can I do?” I asked.
She let out a few sniffles then a frustrated
sigh. “I need… a change of clothes.”
“
Okay. Did you spill on
yours?”
“
Not exactly.” She
hesitated.
“
Well, why don’t you come out here, and
I can see the damage. I can help you clean up if you need me
to.”
“
No way!” she shrieked. “There’s no way
in hell I’m coming out there.”
I didn’t understand why she couldn’t just
come out. “Well then, what the heck happened?”
“
God, this is so embarrassing,” she
moaned. “I sort of … had … an accident.”
Without thinking I blurted, “You peed your
pants?”
“
No … the other one.”
Wait, the other one? Did that mean she … oh,
my…
“
You can’t tell anyone, Melody! I’m not
kidding. I’d never be able to show my face in this town again.
Please, please, do not tell anyone. Please.” I heard the
desperation in her voice, so I agreed. Plus, I’m just not the kind
of person to spread stuff like that. Unless she happens to
diss
my best friend in the
middle of a party.
That day I did help Hilary. I went to
her house and picked up clean clothes and towels so she could clean
herself up. I cut an entire class to help her so that it didn’t get
out that she shit her pants. You’d think that after that she would
have been nicer, right? Wrong. If anything, she went out of her way
to
be
a bitch to me
for the rest of that year. But I kept my mouth shut and didn’t even
hint at it, until now.
As I walk up the stairs to the guest bedroom,
I can hear that Sara still hasn’t calmed down. Her slurred yelling
carries from the staircase even over the music.
Emma is nowhere in sight. I assume she’s with
Nick, and I decide to leave her alone.
As I walk in, Sara is yelling from the bed
about the drama that just occurred downstairs. I look over at
Scott, and he looks slightly annoyed. I give him a kiss on the
cheek, tell him thanks, and then let him know it’s okay if he wants
to get out of here. He walks hurriedly to the door without even a
backward glance.
“
Sar, you gotta calm down,” I say
gently.
“
Mel, that bitch provoked me. You know
that I wouldn’t be like that for no reason. She’s been saying these
little remarks to me all month in the hall, and it’s been wearing
on me. I finally snapped down there.”
I sit down next to her on the bed and put my
arm around her shoulders. She lays her head on me and lets out a
cry.
We stay like that until she falls asleep. I
tuck her in and then go downstairs to start the party cleanup.
***
I ended up staying over even though I really
just wanted to go home. But I wanted to make sure that Sara didn’t
get sick, so I stayed with her in the guest bedroom.
Emma was MIA all night. She had been talking
nonstop about Nick, so I can only assume what happened there.
I had stayed up late by myself cleaning up
most of the mess. I really didn’t mind, though. It was nice to get
my thoughts together after all of the craziness that had ensued. I
played Miranda Lambert and sung my heart out while scrubbing.
Scott sent me a text that night saying
that he was sorry he left, but he really didn’t like drama. I
couldn’t blame him; Sara can be a lot to take in if you don’t know
her well. Although we all go to the same school, they don’t know
each other that well yet. But, honestly, if Scott can’t handle my
friends then we might not be a good
match,
after all. I guess if he thinks I’m worth
it, he’ll try to get along.
Sara finally wakes up, but she’s
understandably feeling like crap. I go downstairs and grab
her
coffee
, a granola
bar, and Tylenol. After she downs all of it, she seems to be doing
marginally better.
The morning passes uneventfully. As Sara and
I are about to leave, Emma walks out of her room with a huge smile
on her face. Behind her is Nick wearing the exact same smile.
Sara and I look at each other and make
no attempt to hide our snickering. Nick and Emma walk to her front
door and give each other a kiss
good-bye
with promises to talk soon. The second the
door clicks shut, Sara and I run down the stairs squealing. We are
asking questions so fast I doubt Emma can process them all at
once.
Emma puts her hands up. “Jeez, slow down,
girls. Let me get some coffee in my system first.” She smiles
teasingly.
“
Come on, Emma,” Sara whines, “spill
the beans!”
I laugh at Sara’s desperation, even though
I’m equally curious.
Emma seems to be contemplating it for a
moment while chewing her lip. “It. Was. Amazing!”
***
As I get home from Emma’s, my exhaustion hits
me. I unlock the door and my eyes are heavy as I’m debating if I
should jump in the shower first or go straight to bed.
The second I open the door, I hear my
mom’s whimpers coming from the living room. I drop my purse and run
to her. “Mom? Mom! Are you okay?” She’s crumpled on the living room
floor with tears streaming down her face. My heart is racing, and I
don’t want to get the wrong idea. But what else is there to
think
about
this type
of situation? “Is Lucas okay? Where’s Dad, is he okay?”
Her tear streaked face turns up in my
direction. As soon as she sees me, she sobers from her broken
state.
“
Melody, when did you get
home?” she
says as she wipes
her face.
I look at her confused. “What’s going
on?”
“
It’s nothing, honey. I’m just upset
over something silly.” She lifts her mouth in a pitiful
grin.
“
Where’s Dad?”
“
Oh, um, he went into the studio
today,” she says quickly. A little too quickly.
“
On a Sunday? He never works on
Sundays,” I say questioningly.
“
Mel, I don’t know, honey. You know how
those musicians are. They’re very demanding. Your father went in
for a few hours. He’ll be back soon.” She gets to her feet and
straightens out her clothing.
I know something isn’t right. I can
feel it in the pit of my
stomach
, but I don’t question it anymore. Although
my mom is one of the sweetest women you will ever meet, she’s also
very stubborn. I can ask questions until I’m blue in the face, and
she still won’t give me an inch.
I wait hours for my dad to get home. I’ve
tried calling him, but his phone goes straight to voicemail. I
shower, nap, and catch up on homework, but still, he doesn’t come
home.
Every time I mention it to my mom, she waves
it off as if it’s the norm, but it’s not. I try to convince myself
that it’s nothing; that my worried brain is twisting it into
something it’s not, but the feeling won’t leave my gut.
That night my dad never comes home.
Winter Formal
S
o much
negativity has filled this last month that I’m not sure I even want
to go to the Winter Formal.
My mom and dad are barely speaking. Ever
since that night over a month ago, they only speak when they have
to. My dad didn’t come home until the early hours of the morning. I
know because he was running into everything he passed; his drunken
feet couldn’t keep him balanced. The next morning, I could hear
them arguing, but when I asked my mom, she denied it. I don’t know
why because I obviously heard it. I think she just wanted to
pretend things were okay.
Sara was still being destructive. She didn’t
care for her parents’ rules anymore, so she defied them every
chance she got. Her hair was now a soft green, which sounds
strange, but she totally pulled it off. Her parents were fuming
when they saw her, but aside from demanding she wash it, there
wasn’t much else they could do. Sara even started a calendar to
count down the days until graduation.
Emma hasn’t exactly walked away from
last month unscathed either. After her night with Nick, things
seemed to be going smoothly until he suddenly stopped taking her
calls and basically ignored her. He even went as far as to block
her on every social networking platform. Emma was heartbroken. She
really thought he was the one. Her usual joking demeanor became
practically nonexistent, and in its
place
was a depressed half-present girl. I felt
horrible for her. Sara and I tried everything, but I think
all she needed
was
time.
Sara and I decided we were going to
take her to the Winter Formal. By “take,” I mean “force.”
I'd
be damned if she was
going to miss the Winter Formal of our senior year.