An Unstill Life (21 page)

Chapter Twenty-Six

I
felt different when I walked into the school building, Bianca by my side. I wondered if it showed. New Livvie walked down the middle of the halls, head held high, not exactly meeting peoples’ eyes, but close to it. Even after Bianca slid through the door of her homeroom. The scene in Mrs. Wolfson’s office seemed to have happened a lifetime ago. Or to someone else. So it was a shock when a girl I didn’t even know walked up to me at my locker.

“Are you Olivia?”

Steeling myself for the worst, I nodded, closing my locker on the assorted hate mail littering the floor. I didn’t even look at it today.

“I just want to tell you, I’m on your side.”

My side? I stared at her, the bemusement clearly showing on my face.

The girl laughed. “About the dance. I heard Mrs. Wolfson banned you and your girlfriend. I think that sucks. I’m on your side.”

“Oh… Thanks.”

I watched her stride away. The dance didn’t feel important again. How could it? Was it just yesterday I’d been willing to deck the principal for the right to go?

By lunchtime, it appeared the whole school had heard about our trip to the principal’s office. And everyone had an opinion. There seemed to be an equal split between those who thought Mrs. Wolfson was right to ban us, and those who felt doing so was a breach of our human rights. I still couldn’t walk through the hallways without being watched, but at least now all the eyes on me weren’t hostile, the shouted comments weren’t all insults.

“Livvie?” Mel caught up with me outside my English class. “What are you going to do? The whole school’s talking about you.”

Thanks to her. No, that wasn’t fair. I didn’t have any proof that she was the one who turned me in. A gut feeling, maybe, but nothing concrete. “I know.” I rolled my eyes. “I wish they’d stop. I’m just trying to be happy. Is that such a crime?”

“You know, Eddie’s dad’s a lawyer. You should ask him to take your case. I bet you could sue the school for a whole bunch of money.” Mel spoke too fast, the words spilling from her lips in a blur of yellow and blue.

I shook my head. “I’m not going to sue the school.”

“You should. Not letting you go is discrimination.”

Wasn’t she the one telling me not to go yesterday? “It’s a dance, Mel.” I looked at her. “It’s not important. Not really.”

“You’re not mad?”

I shrugged. I was. The indignity of it burned in my gut, the humiliation, but suing the school seemed extreme. “I just want it to go away.”

Mel gave a huge sigh. “God, Livvie. Could you be any more wimpy?”

Anger spiked through me, and my face grew hot. What right did she have to talk to me like that? “I’ve got other stuff to deal with right now, Mel. The dance isn’t that important. Besides, think about how much publicity something like that would get. I can’t handle that right now. It’s my life. No anyone else’s.”

“So why’d you buy the tickets, then?”

“I wish I hadn’t.” I tried to remember the excitement I’d felt when I bought the tickets, but it was gone, replaced by dread that filled every inch of me. I could never go back to being anonymous little Livvie Quinn. From now on I’d be
that
Livvie Quinn, the lesbian who got banned from the Winter Formal.

“I think you’re making a mistake.” Mel swept off down the hall, leaving me to stand there alone, still, an atoll in the sea of people swirling around me.

“Hey!” Bianca grabbed me and dragged me off toward the lunchroom. “Guess what? The school paper wants to interview us.”

“What?” I stared at her. She looked vibrantly alive. Her cheeks were flushed with color, and her eyes shone, even in the muted light of the lunchroom.

“Delilah Finch just caught me in the hall outside math class. She wants to do a story about us. About how we’ve been banned from going to the dance. She says it’s a breach of human rights.”

“Mel thinks we should hire a lawyer and sue the school.” I took a tray from the stack at the end of the counter. It had been so long since I’d eaten in the lunchroom, I’d forgotten the noise. I had to work hard to shut out the colors that shrieked and yelled. Bianca reached for a spoon to help herself to some mac and cheese, but before she could grasp it, it was knocked out of her reach. She reached for it again, but this time it was flipped onto the floor.

“Ooops.” Sam Taylor grinned at us as he retrieved the fallen spoon. “Sorry, ladies. Were you wanting some mac and cheese?”

“No.” I tried to push past him, but he blocked the way, a few of his friends joining him to create a semi-circular wall in front of us.

I glanced at Bianca. Why had she decided we had to eat here today? She stood very straight, eyes on Sam who waved the spoon close to her chin.

“You muff divers make me sick.” He poked the spoon into her face, leaving a clump of macaroni hanging from the end of her nose. “Too damn ugly or weird to get boyfriends, I guess. Is that it? How do you get off? Which one gets to be the guy?” His eyes bounced between the two of us, and excitement blazed in them.

“That one’s the guy,” Jason Davies piped up, pointing at me. “Gotta be. No tits.”

My pulse thumped dully at my temple, and I could feel blood rushing from every extremity into my face. My hands and feet were freezing, but my face blazed.

“Hey, Sam. What are you doing?” Hannah squeezed in between him and Jason. She saw me and took a step back. “Uh… Hi, Livvie.”

I just looked at her.

Sam wrapped his arm around Hannah’s shoulders. “Don’t worry about it, babe. I’m getting rid of the deviants. Why don’t you just go sit down?”

Hannah stiffened, and her eyes narrowed to cat-like slits when she looked at him. She didn’t move though.

“So, where were we?” Jason stepped forward. “Oh, yeah. We’re all super curious about how you do it. We want a demonstration.” He grabbed my arm and dragged me nearer to Bianca, forcing us so close I could feel her hot, angry breath crawling through my hair.

“Stop it!” My voice sliced through the air, silencing the place for a moment. “God, you guys… What is up with you? Just leave us alone. We’re not hurting you, are we?”

“Hurting?” Sam snorted a laugh in our direction. “Not in so many words. Offending, more like. And you know what? I don’t like it.”

His face was so close to mine I could smell the anger seething off him. Or maybe it was my own. I could feel it boiling in me, searing my throat with its heat.

Jason gave my arm another jerk, forcing me to stumble forward. I tried to wiggle free, but his grip was vice-like and it occurred to me that he could hurt me.

“Let her go.” Bianca’s voice was low, but I could see the blood-red note of fury dancing across it.

The air was heavy with threat. I remembered the party Mel took me to, the fight in the kitchen, and the way the atmosphere thickened just before the first blow.

Bianca’s jaw tightened. Her fists clenched by her sides. Jason leaned over, his massive frame dwarfing her. “Make me.” He gave my arm another twist, and this one hurt. A lot. I winced but tried to hide it. I didn’t want to give them the satisfaction.

“Just stop!” Hannah’s furious voice ripped through the tension, leaving nothing but fluttering rags. “You’re being a total dickwad, Sam. You too, Jason.”

“What? You’re going to join them now, babe?” Sam’s arm dropped from around her. “Go on then. Can I watch?” He shoved her toward us, and I saw her face contort into an expression I recognized all too well.

My hands curled into fists so tight I could feel my nails biting into my palms. How could Hannah like this guy?

“You’re certifiable.” Hannah shook her head. “I can’t believe I’ve wasted so much time with you.” She paused, hand raised as if she might slap him. She restrained herself and stomped off, not stopping when she reached the wall of people surrounding us, but plowing right through.

Bianca dropped her tray to the floor. The noise was so sharp, so loud, that for a second the whole lunchroom stilled, fell silent, faces turned toward us. Bianca stared back at them while I scuffed my feet on the floor, taking care not to look at anyone, not wanting to catch a single eye. If a hole had opened in the ground just then, I’d have been the first to leap in.

Bianca followed Hannah and strode toward the door, her hand on my wrist forcing me to follow her. I scurried along behind, head whirling, face on fire, every eye chewing into my skin like acid. The thunk of the lunchroom door flying open sent rust colored bolts coursing through my skull. It swished closed again, and relief flooded through me. The stares were gone. The whispers and snickers. The judgment. Bianca and I were alone in the corridor, our hurried footsteps echoing off the walls and lockers. Where was Hannah?

“I hate them,” Bianca hissed. “Ignorant fucks!”

“I know.” I tried to catch my breath. Would Bianca ever slow down?

We reached the side door and slammed into it to get it open. Stepping out into the too-bright sunlight reminded me of the first day I saw Bianca at school, of the way she’d stared at me across the square of lawn under the oak tree.

She threw herself down onto the browning grass with a grunt. I scuffed some of the damp leaves away before dropping down next to her. A smudge of cheese sauce still clung to the end of her nose, and I wiped it away with the back of my hand.

“What are we going to do?” I asked. “It’s like being in a war or something.”

“Ignore them.” Bianca turned to look at me, her blue eyes boiling with some mixture of rage and passion. “They’re not worth the energy. And not all of them are such fuckheads. I mean, Delilah and Mel are on our side, right? And I guess, Hannah.”

I shrugged. Was Mel on our side, or did she just like the attention that came with being associated with a cause? Was Hannah? What made her change her mind? “Why do there have to be sides?”

“There are always sides. In everything. Don’t you know that?” She stared at me like I was a small child, and I had to look away. “I wish we didn’t have to go back in there, but I guess we do.” She peered at the building and the people visible through the windows, moving in the hallways and classrooms.

“Well, at least it’s Art next.” I could still find peace in Art, even if there was none in the rest of my life.

Bianca stood up. Dying leaves clung to her skirts, the colors—red, yellow, orange, brown—bright against the black. She shook the fabric, and the leaves wafted to the ground in a swirl of toffee flavors so sweet they made my teeth ache. “Let’s go face the firing squad then.” She grinned at me, teeth gritted.

“Well, at least this is the one class we have together.” I climbed to my feet, too. History would be worse. Sam was in that class with me, and he was the last person I wanted to see again today. Or ever.

I lost my nerve after Art. I watched Bianca drift off toward her French class and turned to walk the short distance to my history one. As I neared the door, I became aware of Sam walking just ahead of me and stopped. He still swaggered with the same confidence, despite Hannah walking out on him. Hannah. I hadn’t seen her. I hoped she was okay. Despite everything. I sagged into the wall, watching as Sam leaned in the doorway, tossing his hair and laughing at something Elise Barrowman said.

I couldn’t go in there. The thought of it made my stomach twist and burn. I couldn’t spend an hour in the same room as him, his poison leaching into my skin. I pushed off the wall and changed directions, slipping through the side door onto the quad just as the bell began to ring. From there it was easy to double back through the parking lot and onto the street. I was getting to be a pro at hooky. Me, who’d never so much as cut a class before.

So wrapped up in my own thoughts and fears, I didn’t even think about where I was going. It wasn’t until I found myself outside my own house that I realized I’d walked the whole way on autopilot. I stared up at the blank, empty windows, shivering a little in the chill air. There was nothing inviting about this place. It looked as cold as it felt. But I was here now. I should at least go in, right? Or should I go running back to Bianca’s and put it off for another day?

The door squeaked when I pushed it open, and I froze. I stood on the familiar green rug, breathing in the unfamiliar scents that twined through air that smelled of home. Something was different. Not just me, either. I turned and looked into the living room where a hospital bed dominated the space. The couches and chairs were pushed back against the walls, the bookshelves cluttered with knick-knacks from the low tables that stood stacked in the corner. My breath caught in my throat. Was Jules home? Why hadn’t Mom told me? Where was Mom? The house was too quiet, but the door had been unlocked, so I knew someone was there.

The bed sat by the windows and the curtains had been pulled back so Jules could see the street. A lamp burned by the bed, and all I could see in the window was its reflection and Jules’s. Jules.

The bed was raised so she could sit upright, but her eyes were closed, eyelids flickering and pulsing in the intense golden light. A pink scarf knotted around her head hid her baldness.

“Hey, Jules.” I crossed to the bed and ran a hand down the side of her face. I fought the tears that sprang to my eyes. She didn’t need me weeping over her.

Jules’s eyelids twitched more violently, pushing up to reveal glassy dark eyes. “Livvie?” She strained to see me, even that small movement an obvious effort.

“Hi, Jules. Happy to be home?” I forced my voice to be steady. She didn’t know what had happened between Mom and me. She didn’t know I’d stayed away.