Daisy giggled and shrugged. “We thought you would know.”
I looked around, this time focusing on the room instead of the Dozen. The walls were pale yellow. Heavy drapes covered the only window and matched the blue and red striped bedspread. A dream catcher hung from the ceiling amidst the glow of green plastic stars. Toy baskets lined one wall, filled with an assortment of trains, dinosaurs and stuffed animals. “It’s a bedroom.”
“Nice job, Einstein.” Einstein grinned at me from a child-sized recliner.
“We were wondering whose, though.” Indie paced in front of the window. She wore tight jeans and a tighter v-neck. Her hair hung over her shoulders and just brushed the top of her barely covered breasts.
A rocking chair squeaked from a corner of the room. Rae’s knitting needles clicked as a single strand of blue yarn trailed up past her feet into the flurry of needles and came out the other end as a scarf with nobbly bumps. “I’m not sure it matters where we are. Only that we’re finally together.”
From her post by the door, Fell 1 nodded her agreement.
“You two always agree,” JayJay said from the floor. His intricate train track wove throughout the room. A caboose clacked past the Poet, who sat in the corner hunched over a notebook. His pencil flew across the page, scratching out words.
“Can I ask you something?” I directed my question to Fell 1. She nodded, and I continued. “I’ve always wondered, what does your name stand for?”
“Felicity?” This came from Daisy.
“Felicia?” Angel guessed from her perch on the edge of the bed.
“Fell-atio.” Indie snickered and lifted the corner of the curtain.
“None of those,” Fell said and turned to Indie. “And none of that. You know better.”
“Know what?” I whispered to Luna who suddenly appeared beside me.
She shrugged her thin shoulders sullenly, giving the impression she was mad at me. I shook off the feeling and reminded myself this was just a dream. Bizarre as it was.
Luna leaned back against the wall. “One Fell Swoop.”
Rae nodded at Luna and checked the scarf for length by wrapping it around her neck.
“Nice guess, Luna.” Brutus stretched out on the bed. I’d missed him the first time around. I’d always pictured him big, and he didn’t disappoint. His broad shoulders nearly took up the entire bed. No wonder Angel looked ready to fall off the mattress.
I did a head count. “Where’s James?”
Bach twanged on a toy piano, covering the sound of silence from the others. One by one, their images faded into blackness leaving me alone, swinging on the front porch, reading books with the ghost of Granny. Bach’s music floated up and over the hum of an engine. A gentle hand shook me awake to the inside of Trav’s truck.
“Did you have a nice catnap?”
“I think so.”
Travis shifted in his seat. His thumb worried the steering wheel. “About what happened earlier. I’m sorry.”
I yawned to cover my confusion. We never fought so it couldn’t be anything serious. I shrugged. “No big deal.”
“It is a big deal, Gem. Huge. And something you have to deal with. You can’t just ignore what’s happening to you.”
I’m not ignoring it. I just can’t remember! I can’t even remember what you’re talking about.
But I couldn’t say that, because then I’d be a freak. Maybe I was one now. I sought out Trav’s face for reassurance that he still cared for me. He kept his eyes on the road and didn’t return my smile. His next words stabbed into me. “I think it’s time you see someone.”
“I’m fine, Travis.” Even to me, my words rang false, so I leaned in and kissed his cheek. He was the last good thing in my world, and I had to make things right between us.
The truck jerked to the side then straightened as he recovered from my touch. His fingers clenched the steering wheel. When he spoke, his voice was as hard and tight as his jaw. “You’re not fine.”
Hot anger seeped through my body like it had in the kitchen with my dad, and I fought the urge to punch Travis. “I don’t think it’s any of your business.”
He made a choking sound, as if he was trying to bite back his words. “If you want to keep shutting me out, that’s fine, but you need to get help. There are things that happened, and you can’t keep ignoring them."
“And I suppose you know.”
“I know about losing people you love and blocking out the memories that hurt.”
Things clicked into place. “Did your grandfather hurt me? Is that it? And my dad can’t forgive him.”
Trav’s face drained of all color. “My grandfather’s never laid a hand on you, Gem.”
“Then you. You...” I choked on the words. “Oh my God. And I pushed it all aside. And your grandpa, he was my shrink. He helped me forget so you could stalk me all over again.”
I lashed out, hitting Travis in the face. He slammed on the brake, and the truck fishtailed, the back end swinging wildly into the ditch. I gripped the door handle and braced myself for a crash. The truck ground to a halt.
His voice was deadly quiet. “Do you believe that?”
It made sense. Everyone hiding his abuse from me so I could just move on.
But why let me hang out with Travis at all?
Because he’s innocent.
Was I part of his rehabilitation? To make amends with his victim?
His hands gripped the steering wheel. His fingers white as ice, his voice as cold. “Do you honestly believe that?”
It made sense. Perfect sense. I nodded.
Travis stomped on the gas. The truck slid on the ice, seeking purchase. I’d never been afraid of him until now.
Tell him you’re sorry,
Angel pleaded.
Brutus demanded it.
Now, Gemi.
“Shut up. Shut up. Shut up!” I screamed at the voices. Then, “Travis, stop. I’m sorry.”
He never answered. When he pulled up to my house, he slammed the truck into park.
“Travis, I’m sorry.”
Ever the gentleman, he deposited me onto the step and gave me a chaste kiss on the cheek. “Goodbye, Gemini. I’m officially done babysitting you.”
In that moment, I knew I’d made a mistake I could never repair. My words had destroyed a man incapable of hurting me.
Trav’s truck tore off down the driveway, carrying with it a piece of my heart.
Chapter 12
The remains of a half-eaten take-out pizza sat on the table next to Mom’s overnight bag. Even in my wasted state, I vaguely remembered she shouldn’t be here. An empty cola can lay in a pool of dark soda. A whiskey bottle, drained of the amber liquor, its companion. Canned laughter and my dad’s guffaws seeped into the kitchen from the back of the house. Mom’s tipsy giggles followed after a lag time. She’d had just enough alcohol to still be in a good mood, but already too much that she was slow on processing.
Next to the table, department store bags overflowed with tennis equipment—my dad’s newest obsession even though the back pain from a long ago car accident had kept him from playing anything for years. If only I’d stayed, I might have kept Mom from getting sucked into his annual sports binge. If only I’d remembered the timing of it. A new layer of guilt added to the weight of my accusation against Travis. It propelled me upstairs to bed where tears wouldn’t come no matter how hard I tried. Not even the familiar blackness took me away from my personal hell.
By the time my dad and Mom made their way upstairs, they had passed the feel-good stage and were bickering. He slammed the door to their room, and Mom shuffled across the hall. Through the walls, I listened as she tossed and turned, muttering to herself. Something smashed into our shared wall—probably a tennis racquet—before she finally settled down and started snoring. I waited another hour after the last noises, pulled my robe around me and made my way downstairs to the computer. Determined to straighten things out, I opened a new email.
Dear Travis,
I am sorry I accused you of doing something you could never do. I don’t know what is happening to me. I’m angry all the time and keep losing my memories. These blackouts terrify me because I don’t know what I do. I don’t know why I have them, but suspect they have something to do with you. For some reason, I felt so close to an answer tonight. Yet for the life of me, I can’t remember what it might have been. All I know is that I hurt you beyond measure.
A message popped up from Angel.
Forever.
I exxed out of the comment box and continued typing.
Friends forever, Clarence knows, youknowGrannyknows, bunnieshats, brotherspictureschurch, friendsforeveralways.
I smashed the keyboard with my fists. My strangled prayer filled the air. “Why, God, can’t I remember anything?”
But He was silent. I turned back to Trav’s letter and latched onto the bit about friends forever. It’s what I knew. It’s what I needed. I had to call Travis and apologize for what I had done. I had to patch things up between us, and the only way I could do that was by coming clean. I had to tell him the truth about my blackouts and ask him to help me.
I laid my head on the desk and closed my eyes, trying to determine the best way to approach my apology. Email was the chicken way out, but it might be the best I could do right now. Especially since I’d have a record of the things I’d said.
The computer chimed.
U there?
James.
He was the last person I wanted to talk to right now.
Barely. Just going to bed.
It’s still early—thought you were a night owl.
Been a rough couple days…my granny died.
Heard that.
Fear sliced through me. I didn’t remember telling the Dozen yet. Of course, I didn’t remember much of anything lately.
Who from?
Luna called me.
Goosebumps ran along my spine.
How’d she get your number?
LOL. Nothing sinister. We live an hour from each other.
That stung. Was I the only one out of the loop, too chicken to make real friends and too stupid to keep the ones I had? If Travis was even my friend anymore.
Anyone else?
Jealous?
I let that hang and waited for James to answer my last post.
Sorry. I misbehave—the answer is no
Why Luna?
As soon as I hit reply, I wanted to take it back. On top of everything else, I didn’t need her to log into the chat room and see us talking about her.
You’re jealous…
No. Just wondering how you know it’s time to exchange phone numbers and stuff. It’s so personal.
Seriously, after what we’ve chatted? Besides, we’re meeting later this week.
The hair stood up on the back of my neck.
What?!?!? In person?
Why not?
The vision of Luna, needy and brooding in the corner of the yellow dream room, popped into my head. I picked a piece of rice off the keyboard—my dad could be such a pig—and typed.
A thousand reasons. What if she’s psycho?
LOL. What if we all are?
I shivered. Going online hadn’t been a good idea—especially with James. He liked to bait me, and after the night I’d had, I was in no mood for more games.
James, I have to go. Catch you later.
We’re meeting because she threatened to end her life…or worse.
My head throbbed. I couldn’t tackle Luna’s problem when I couldn’t handle my own. I asked my next question to be polite.
What could be worse?
Ending yours.
I hit the power button and raced upstairs, flipping on lights as I went. My bed held no comfort and no amount of blankets kept me warm. I snuggled deeper into my robe, my blankets, my pillows, making myself as small a target as possible.
She wanted to kill me. Luna wanted to kill me. But why? I’d never done anything to her or said anything to her. Not that I could remember. Not that I could ever. Was she gaslighting me, too?
I swallowed back vomit. Was everything in my life a lie?
My phone buzzed.
A text from an unknown number.
I’d never shared my cell number with the Dozen. Certainly not my newest one.
Are you sure?
But I wasn’t sure about anything anymore. I’d obviously shared more of myself online than I ever intended. Another text buzzed through, and another. After powering it down, I dropped my phone into my nightstand drawer. Morning couldn’t come soon enough.
* * *
Luna curled up in the corner of her room and cried silent tears.
She held a cell phone in her hand, texting over and over again without looking, her cyber pleas falling on deaf ears. She knew that. None of the Dozen had bothered to return her messages. She hated them all.