Vanished (7 page)

I spent two periods lying on the cot in the nurse's
office staring up at the ceiling. It felt like the world was spinning too fast and I couldn't keep my balance. At lunch the nurse declared that since I wasn't running a fever maybe I should try to make it through the rest of the day. I went down to the cafeteria, but when I didn't see Britney, I ducked back out. I stood in the hallway, uncertain where I should go. I needed something to do or I might snap.

I'd promised Zach I would make a banner for the show his improv-slash–a cappella group, the Fleshtones, was planning. When Beth disappeared, Zach had told me not to worry about making it, but I was already winning the Worst Girlfriend of the Year award. I could at least keep
one of the promises I'd made to him and create a simple sign.

I knocked on the art room door. Ms. Schneider let me in and left me alone while she went to the teacher's lounge for her own lunch. The Fleshtones wanted something they could hang over the doorway to the cafeteria where everyone would see it. I'd offered to design one in Photoshop and print it off, but I felt like getting my hands dirty. I knew they'd be excited to get a giant retro hand-painted banner instead.

I pulled a long sheet of paper from the roll and draped it over the table that I'd already covered with newspaper. I used a wooden yardstick to block in the words for the banner so everything would be centered and neat. This was a thousand times better than sitting in the lunchroom where everyone could see me.

I pulled some poster paints out of the cabinet. The chalky smell was relaxing. I wasn't a great artist, but if I drew something you could tell what it was supposed to be. In junior high I'd wanted to be a comic book artist. I drew my own series starring the Amazing Amanda: part woman, part jungle cat. I felt the world needed some female superheroes who had more going for them than giant breasts. I'd created a whole backstory that was pretty much a rip-off of the X-Men. I was into mutants at the time, maybe because everyone in junior high kinda feels like one.

Once I got into sports I spent less time making art, but I didn't give it up altogether. A few months ago I'd done a sketch for Beth, a small Alice in Wonderland dwarfed by a
giant Cheshire cat. It hadn't been much more than a doodle, but Beth loved it. She'd taped it up in her locker. I used to get a rush every time I saw it hanging there. For all I knew, it still was. Why would she bother taking it with her? It was clear I wasn't nearly as important to her as I'd thought I'd been.

I pushed thoughts of Beth out of my head. I sketched three cartoon faces leaning in toward an old-fashioned radio microphone on the right-hand side of the banner. It looked pretty great.

I painted in the letters I'd written across the top: See the Fleshtones LIVE. I dipped the brush in a bright red to use on the time and date below, when a door slammed open in the hall and I dropped the brush, splattering the banner with paint.

It was ruined. I closed my eyes. There went the last forty minutes of my life, wasted.

“Don't you freaking touch me!” someone yelled in the hall.

I felt my stomach drop. It was Brit. I'd know that voice anywhere. I took a step forward and saw her and Jason reflected in the big mirror on the opposite wall.

“I knew it.” Brit crossed her arms. “I knew something was going on, but I had no idea it had gone that far. And with
her
!”

“It's not what you think. People have it all wrong. Listen, I'm an idiot,” Jason said.

“It's more than that. You made an idiot out of me. All day long, people staring, feeling sorry for me. Thinking they know what it's like to be me. Poor, pathetic Brit. How could she not have known? It's humiliating. Do you have any idea what I'd do for you? What I've
done
?” Britney's voice was high and shrill.

“I wanted to talk to you, to tell you, but I didn't know how.”

His words were like a kick to the gut. There was no way to protect myself from the blow. He was confessing.

I wanted to run, but I couldn't. The door to the art room was wide open. I couldn't leave without going right past them. I was stuck.

“What were you going to tell me? That I was an idiot for thinking that you loved me?” Britney's face was red. Jason looked shell-shocked. “Were you going to wait until you got to Syracuse? Or was your plan to keep me in the dark forever?”

“I only applied to Syracuse because you're going to Cornell. I didn't even send them an acceptance yet.” Jason ran his hands over his head. “That was your dream that we'd be close next year, not mine. But you didn't ask me what I wanted.”

Britney shoved him and he hit the wall. “Don't you dare make this my fault.”

Jason held up his arms in surrender. “I'm not saying it's your fault. I'm the jerk here. I should have talked to you
when my feelings changed. It was already happening, way before there was anyone else. I didn't want to admit it. I didn't want you to be upset. Things are complicated, but it's not what you think.” He took a step forward. “I'm a coward, okay? And no matter what, I still care about you. I never wanted to hurt you, Brit.”

Britney slapped him hard across the face, and both Jason and I gasped at the same time.

“Don't say that. Don't stand there saying that like you
pity
me. Like it's some second-place consolation prize for the girl who didn't win. I always win. And you have no idea what you're up against. Did you think I was going to let you and Beth just ride off into the sunset? It's not happening. Do you get it?”

“Listen—”

“We were supposed to be together forever. There is no happy-ever-after for you without me. Beth is not coming back for you.” Britney stamped her foot. She looked ready to throw herself down on the ground and have a full-on tantrum. I almost wanted her to, for both of us. I was too numb to scream.

Jason shook his head slightly. “Baby, this is not about Beth. I don't know where she is, I swear. Our problems have nothing to do with her. Please just hear what I'm trying to tell you. I knew you wouldn't be reasonable about—”

“
I
decide what's reasonable,” Brit interrupted, jabbing Jason in the chest. “
I'm
the one who breaks up with people.
People don't break up with me.”

“You can break up with me if you want,” Jason said, almost hopefully.

Britney looked defeated, like all the fight had leaked out of her. “It's too late. I could have fixed it, but now I can't. Everyone knows what happened. They know you dumped me. That you chose her. I wasn't good enough.”

I wanted to race out of the room and throw my arms around my friend to protect her from these feelings, and from having to listen to any more of his excuses.

“That's not it at all. It wasn't about you.” Jason touched her arm. “Brit, you're amazing.”

She yanked her arm away. Her mascara was streaking in black lines under her eyes. I realized I was holding my breath. I'd never seen Britney cry like this before, a full-on ugly cry. “Don't be an idiot. It was always about me.”

“Brit—”

“Forget it. You had your chance. There's no making this better. It's all gone to shit, and it's all your fault.” Brit spun around and took off down the hall. Jason buried his head in his hands.

I was shaking with anger. I wanted to go out into the hall and punch him. I wanted to kick him so hard his nuts came out his nose. I wanted to hurt him for hurting Britney, for hurting me, for stealing Beth.

Maybe I had no right to, but I still felt like Beth belonged to me.

As soon as Jason left the hall I scooped up the paints,
shoved them back in the cupboard, and dumped the brushes in the sink to soak. Ms. Schneider was going to be pissed that I hadn't cleaned up properly, but this was an emergency.

I jogged down the hall and spotted Chester up on a ladder changing a lightbulb in front of the office. Her eyes popped when she saw me, almost like a cartoon character.

“Lordy, are you okay?” Her face was flooded with concern.

For a split second I wondered how she knew my life was falling apart, until I glanced down. I looked like an extra from the movie
Carrie
. I had red paint splattered all over my shirt, and my hands were caked with it.

“Paint,” I explained. “I need to find Britney. Did you see her go by?”

Chester nodded. “Yep. She didn't look too good either. I offered her a cookie. I have cookies in my lunch. Chocolate chip.”

I fought the urge to shake the ladder. “Where did she go?”

Chester seemed disappointed I wasn't interested in her cookies either. “She left.”

I didn't wait another second, just bolted out the front door. I half expected someone to stop me.

My eyes raked over the rows of cars in the student lot until I spotted Brit's champagne-colored Jeep Cherokee still parked in the front. I could see her hunched over, crying, inside.

I ran up and tapped on the passenger window. Britney hit the automatic locks and I climbed inside. It felt weird to sit in the front. This was where Beth sat. I tried to avoid touching anything, paranoid I'd leave a smear of paint on the butter-soft leather. Britney was crying hard, her sobs catching in her throat as she tried to get her breath. I reached for the tissues in the side door and passed them over to her.

“I'm so sorry,” I said.

We sat in silence while she pulled herself together. “Did you know? Did Beth tell you? Was everyone laughing about it? About me?”

“No. I swear to god.” I felt a flutter of panic that she wouldn't believe me.

Brit stared at my eyes like she was trying to see into my soul. Finally she leaned back in her seat and rubbed her temples.

“I knew,” she said. “Or at least, on some level, I suspected. But I never really thought it could be true.”

I had no idea what to say.

“Beth was my best friend.” She sounded exhausted.

“Don't say it like that. Like it's past tense and you guys will never be friends again. What she did was horrid, but you don't throw away a friend you've had since elementary school for a guy. Even Jason.”

Brit looked at me like I was insane. “Oh, it's past tense all right. There's no way we're ever going to be friends again.”

“Let's find her. Go to her and sit down and demand to hear the truth so you guys can hash this out.” I was mad at Beth, and sick about what she'd done, but I still wanted to see her. I could be the peacemaker between the two of them. I'd done it before and I was sure I could do it again. I could somehow fix this mess.

Brit gripped the steering wheel like she wanted to choke it. She looked at me. “Would you actually hang out with her? After she did this to me?”

I wanted to say no. I wanted to be the kind of person who stood up for myself and for my friends, who would say
that if Beth treated me or Brit this badly then I didn't need her in my life. But my gut told me the truth. I wanted to see her again, and if she made even a mild apology for leaving me out in the cold, I would probably take her back. I would do almost anything for one more chance with her. I wasn't proud of that fact, but I had to at least be honest with myself. I couldn't be that honest with Britney. “Let's talk to her and hear what she has to say.”

“She's got nothing to say.” Brit leaned her head back. “The truth is even if I wanted to go and hash it out with her, I couldn't. I don't know where she is.”

My heart sank. “I thought—”

Brit shrugged. “I heard from her at first. Then she dropped off the planet when I confronted her straight-out about Jason.”

“Oh.” I felt deflated. It had been stupid to get excited about the idea of seeing her, even for a second.

Brit sighed. “Beth's got it pretty good.” She gestured to the school. “She's left all this behind. Started over in a new place where no one knows her. It's all a big adventure. New people. New friends. She's probably going to get a job and her own apartment. No parents nagging her. No tests. No expectations on her all the time.”

“But she's all alone,” I said.

“At least if you're alone, no one screws you over. It sounds better than my life.” Brit sniffed. She looked ready to cry again.

“You want to go back to your place? Maybe get some movies? Let's get out of here.” My parents would be livid that I'd cut school, but I'd deal with that problem later.

Brit didn't answer and for a second I wondered if I'd even made the suggestion out loud. “No. Thanks, though. I want to be alone for a bit.” She reached over and squeezed my hand. “I'm lucky I have you as a friend. I won't forget that.”

“I don't think it's good for you to be by yourself right now,” I said.

Brit sighed. “Maybe not, but that's what I want.”

It was a dismissal. I opened the car door and slid out. “Are you sure?”

She was crying again. No loud sobs this time, just tears running down her face.

“Take care, Kah-bear.”

I watched her SUV pull out of the parking lot and knew that things would never be the same.