Big Fat Disaster (44 page)

He stands, retrieves a business card from his desk, and hands it to me. “This is going to take some time, Colby, because we’re working on ingrained behaviors. Be patient with yourself, and remember: You have a choice.
Always did, always have, always will
.”

Mom is waiting in the parking lot when I go outside. She’s on her cell phone, and from the sound of it, she’s not much calmer than when she brought me to see Dr. Matt.

She shrieks, “There’s no way to appeal this? Are you sure? Rachel, how could you?
How could you do this
? I know you were desperate for money, but…
what will people think
when they find out you’ve been kicked out of Lewis & Clark College for selling essays?”

They talk a while longer; basically it’s just Mom trying to come up with ways for Rachel to blame someone else for selling essays for fifty bucks a pop. When they finally disconnect and Mom tosses her cell phone in her purse, she sits motionless, hands on the steering wheel, staring into space.

I reach into the back seat and retrieve my iPod, slide in my ear buds, and push Play.

I don’t let Mom see it on my face, but inside, I am smiling from ear to ear.

So, today I arrive at school to find the words “
Lying Bitch
” in neon orange marker on my locker door. I
also
find Tina there. She’s gotten to school early for the express purpose of using her phone to take pics of anyone who stands near my locker and gawks at it. For
some
reason, there’s no crowd present. Just Tina.

A kid stops near us and she snaps his photo.

He holds up his hands like she’s got a gun. “Hey, I’m just going to my locker!”

Tina arches her eyebrow. “Make sure that’s
all
you do, Alex.”

“Okay, okay. Jeez.” He retrieves his backpack and hightails it down the hall.

I smile. “Thanks, Tina.”

She throws her arm around me. “I’m sticking by your side in every class we have together,
and
in the hall. If they’re going to mess with you, they’re going to have to take me on, too.”

It’s pretty cool to have a friend.

We have a substitute teacher in biology. She can’t get the DVD player to work, so we have to miss out on the video that Mrs. Clay left for us,
The Mysteries of Homeostasis
. Everyone is
extremely
disappointed.

Most people pull out their phones and start texting. My dad took my phone with him when he left. I’d lost it anyway for throwing a bowl of ice cream at Drew and shattering her best friend, the mirror…I guess that’s one instance when I could have
written
my feelings about my little sister being a brat instead of trying to peg her with a bowl.

Truthfully, the mirror wasn’t that big a loss. Not to me, anyway.

I start working on my
Resolution
for English class. I signed up to do my presentation on Friday, but, for someone who has thought a lot about killing herself, describing how I’ve applied this
Resolution
to my life is surprisingly difficult. I center it on the page:

“
Resolved, to think much on all occasions of my own dying, and of the common circumstances which attend death.
”

Common…circumstances…which…attend…death. Hmmm. What are those, anyway?

Tina and I sit together at lunch. She’s finishing her
Resolution
, too. She chose the one about temperance in eating, and she’s going to come out to everyone about her bulimia.

“My therapist thinks it would be a good idea to stop hiding my eating disorder. She thinks that keeping it a secret is part of what”—Tina forms air quotes with her fingers and speaks in a nasally voice—“enables me to continue to perpetuate the cycle of destructiveness.” She rolls her eyes and shrugs. “Also, she thinks that if I know people are watching for it, I’m less likely to bolt for the john after I eat lunch.”

“I really hope you get better so that you don’t have to go into inpatient treatment,” I say. “I mean…I’d miss you.”

I’m opening a ketchup packet just as Kara bumps into our table. Ketchup squirts onto my shirt. She dramatically exclaims, “Oh, I’m
so sorry
, Hallister! Wow, I hope you don’t get any of that on your hands, you lying bitch. Might mix with the
blood
already on them.”

“Speak clearly, please, Kara.” Tina holds up her phone.

Kara looks confused. “Wh-what?”

Tina calmly repeats, “Speak clearly, please. I’m recording everything you say, and I’m playing it for Mr. McDaniel when he comes through here in about five minutes.”

“You’re a
bitch
,
too
, Tina. I thought we were friends.”

Tina grins and pushes Stop on the recording. “And…that’ll do it. Thank you, Kara.
Thank you very much
.”

That afternoon in English class, I approach Mr. Van Horn. “Is it okay with you if I go last to give my
Resolution
presentation? Writing it isn’t going so well.”

He pulls me away from the other students and says quietly, “Given your recent circumstances, if you’d prefer to just turn in an essay, that’d be fine.”

I think about Tina and her bravery in revealing her bulimia. “No. I think I’d like to say it.”

He looks surprised. “Fine with me. Tomorrow it is.”

Coach Sharp reminds me that I have to dress out today. I follow the other girls to the locker room and strip down to change in a shower stall. I’ve pulled the curtain but there’s still this gap, and I can hear snarky little comments about someone letting a cow into the locker room.

I face the back wall, finish dressing, and when I turn around to pull aside the shower curtain, I see a skinny figure standing in the gap so that no one can see me anymore. She’s wearing a plaid western shirt with her gym shorts. It can’t be anyone else: Becca.

I pull the curtain aside and step out. “Thanks. Um, I appreciate that.”

Becca looks away and mumbles, “I was just doing the right thing.”

I put my hand on her shoulder. “I know. Thank you. Want to walk one, jog one, together?”

She looks surprised. “Sure.”

Drew and I get off the bus at Sugar’s in the afternoon, but after I told Leah what Dr. Matt said about me working in the bakery being like an alcoholic tending bar, she said that I can’t work there anymore.

I was
so relieved
.

When Dr. Matt believes that I’m completely out of the woods, suicide-wise, I may even get to go straight home to do my homework instead of sitting in Sugar’s dining room, breathing in those icing fumes and being tempted to get into that box of broken cookies. But for right now, I can’t be alone.

I do my best to ignore the cake ball lollipops calling to me from the display case, and I try to write my
Resolution
. A group of cheerleaders stop in. I overhear them talking about ordering cupcakes for Homecoming, and I take my work outside and sit on the bench next to the big window. I stare at Ryan’s memorial and think about what I want to say to my classmates, but I’m stumped for words. I read again what I’ve got on my page:

“
Resolved, to think much on all occasions of my own dying, and of the common circumstances which attend death.
”

I turn my paper over and sketch the cross with Ryan’s name on it.

A car lurches to a stop right in front of me. Anna gets out. The car pulls away.

She seats herself next to me on the bench and glances at my paper. I cover the cross with my hand. She looks away and says, “Hey. Nice cross.”

I sigh. “Hey.” I uncover the cross and darken the R in Ryan’s name. “The bakery’s doing a special rate for students on Homecoming orders, if that’s why you’re here.”

“Oh,
please
. Like
I’m
going to order a possum cake or something?” She kicks a big piece of gravel and it skitters across the parking lot. “Nah; my mom’s got to go to the drug store, and I saw you sitting outside. I asked her to drop me off so that I can talk to you.”

I trace the cross over and over again. “Oh.”

Anna leans forward with her elbows on her knees. “Ryan was one of my best friends. We knew each other since we both moved here in second grade. He was one of the only people who would talk to the weird girl.”