Broken (14 page)

“I went to this butterfly conservation meeting, then dinner, then sleep,” I texted.

“Why didn't you tell me about it? Community service, right?”

“As if you don't have enough CS creds for your college app,” I texted.

“You went alone?”

“No, with Cece.”

“You and Cece volunteering without me. Hmmm …”

“You and Frenchy do lots of stuff without me,” I texted.

“Not really.” This was ridiculous. I didn't get up to text fight with Sierra. I finally logged into Winter's FTP. I clicked on the file labeled “Delete Immediately.”

It took a few seconds to download. I noticed my cell phone vibrating. I'd have to smooth things over with Sierra. The file opened. I sat down on the floor next to the outlet and dug in.

Winter had written:

So, your girl is not the worst. I mean, we've seen the roulette crew who almost shot someone's leg off and the girl who lit the locker room on fire in sixth grade. In comparison, Crazy 101 is on the list, but not at the top. I get the sex stuff—a little school play never hurt anyone. But what I don't get is the bleach in her stepmother's shampoo or the camera in her father's bedroom with livestream to the Internet. Another piece that makes me think she could be dangerous is the fact that her mother just up and left one day. Word is she became a nun or something in Tibet. It took two years for Daddy Dearest to track Yogi Head down. She wants nothing to do with the father or Crazy. The reason your girl's living alone in her father's downtown pad is because the new wife threatened to leave if Crazy didn't. The whole bleach thing set the wife off. Like I said, not the worst but I wouldn't let her in my room or near my shampoo. Too bad. D is in deep. Really, I don't think she should be in your house.

One more thing: There was a fire in the apartment underneath Cara's last semester. No one was hurt. The family downstairs was not home. Mysteriously, one of the burners on the stove was left on. Somehow the fire spread to Cara's apartment. Since the family downstairs had just moved their kitchen the year before, their kitchen was underneath the master bedroom closet. All of her stepmother's clothes got torched. Again, she is not someone you want around your house. Ditch her asap.

I sat there watching the sunlight reflect off the windows across the street through my window. I couldn't help but wonder why this story was like some trashy fiction novel. I deleted the file. I deleted the website address. And I unplugged the phone. I made sure to leave it on. I intended to return it to the drawer with a dead battery. I looked around my room, hoping to shake off this news. I mean, Dimitri was dumb but he had to know Cara well. He's seeing her as his girlfriend. He wouldn't be with some maniac, would he? It was just then that I remembered my cell phone. I let out a deep sigh. Sometimes Sierra was a little strong-willed. I knew I was using that term in place of what I really felt, but she was my best friend. I refused to think anything but positive things about her.

“You know what Frenchy said to me yesterday?” Sierra's first text read. After I didn't answer, I guess she decided to tell me anyway. “She said you must be hiding something because you were too perfect. She kept asking me if I had any dish on you. She said she knows you tell me secrets you don't tell her. I told her to stop being such a traitor. Maybe if she didn't spend so much time with Cara, her mind wouldn't be all twisted.”

I felt a slight pain in my heart. She was right, but it wasn't intentional. But now I couldn't tell them. Not until Cara was gone for good. I scrolled down to find a third and final text from Sierra. “I reminded her not to forget loyalty. We knew you first. I know your allegiance is the same.” I was beginning to feel like I was part of some mafia family.

“You guys are my best friends forever. You know that, right?” I texted.

“Right
,” she texted back immediately.

I didn't know when being friends with the twins had suddenly become so tricky.

It was Friday. I heaved a sigh of relief after a grueling Biology exam. Every other Friday, the drill was the same. Wake up at 3 a.m., study until 7 a.m., and head straight to school. Review my notes during first and second periods, then prepare for a smackdown third period. My Biology teacher was very smart. He never ceased to fascinate me with odd tidbits about the human body.

The two texts I received during class requested my presence in the abandoned bathroom on the sixth floor during lunch. Apparently Sierra was sick of the lunch scene. I was actually hungry. I didn't want to be late—then she'd get mad. The whole sixth floor was vacant except for the orchestra rehearsal room, which was way down the hall on the other side of the building. “Do we have a crowd?” I texted.

“Cece,” she texted.

“Brilliant,” I texted Sierra.

“Hey, Cece, see you in a few,” I texted Cece. We had this joke that two was company and three a crowd. I liked the crowd!

I stopped at the vending machine on the first floor to get a chocolate bar and a bottle of water. I knew both Sierra and Cece would want water. But I only had one more single. I bought another with the intent of sharing mine.

“I just saw Bradley. He texted me ‘We need to talk.' I almost fainted!” Cece texted.

“OMG! When?” I texted.

“Just now,” Cece texted.

“So you think this is good?” I texted.

“M. He smiled at me. I think it is good. You?” Cece texted.

“I think so, too. Let's see when you talk,” I texted. I felt kind of happy for Cece. I wasn't sure how things would turn out after she left him that message.

The elevator stopped on every floor on the way up to six. Things were all right with the world, I thought. I couldn't believe I had done something so cool! I hopped out on six. I made a dash for the secret hiding place. We swore that if either of us was found going in or out of the bathroom, we would find a new hiding place. I didn't want to be in that position. I didn't know the school nearly as well as the twins.

“Shut up! Your hair looks spectacular!” Sierra said.

“Thanks,” I said.

“Is it a fresh flat-iron?” Sierra asked. Busted!

Cece walked into the bathroom. She was now a chestnut brunette. Sierra gave her two double kisses. “What up, girl?” Sierra asked Cece.

“I'm cool,” Cece said.

“And the hair?” Sierra asked.

Geez, this was an interrogation. “Water?” I asked.

“Thanks, M.,” Cece said.

“Here, take this one. Sierra and I can split the last one,” I said.

“Thanks. I guess,” Sierra said.

“Milan and I went to the salon yesterday for blowouts, but I decided to do something different. Then M. got her hair flat-ironed,” Cece said.

“Stop,” I texted Cece.

“Wow! We were supposed to go on Wednesday,” Sierra said.

“I know, but I have butterfly conservation!” I said.

“Um, well, M. What about Sunday?” Sierra asked.

“Let's hang all day on Sunday,” I said.

“You can come, if you'd like,” Sierra said to Cece.

Cece didn't speak. I'd never seen this side of Sierra. I didn't really think she meant that. I hoped she appreciated this because I was actually planning on researching colleges online on Sunday. “Can we look at some schools on Sunday?” I asked.

“I guess. You could do that anytime. But sure,” Sierra said.

“So how's Merek?” Cece asked. I looked away for a moment. I was in search of the right words. Then the obvious dawned on me.

“He left for Madrid on a mini-holiday with his parents,” I said.

“Oh …” Cece said. We all just looked at each other.

“So, how do you like having a beautiful boy toy?” Sierra asked.

“He wants to go back to the hotel,” I said.

“You haven't … since then? Next to Frenchy, you look like a saint,” Sierra said.

I didn't want to talk about it anymore. In light of the whole Cece thing, which she didn't take too well, though I still was unclear on why it was so offensive, I felt bad. So I told her whatever she wanted to know. “Uh, no. But that's not what I'm apprehensive
about.” I said. I took a deep sigh. I didn't want them to see inside everything. There were some things I could never tell. So this, I guessed, was pale in comparison. “Last time, we kind of snuck into a room. He took me up to the ninth floor. The maid was working in some rooms. Six or seven room doors were open. He's like ‘This is it.' Then he pulls me into a room and locks the door. We start kissing. Next thing I know, we've been in there for two hours. I asked him if he could get us some ice. I wanted a drink from the fridge. He's like ‘Okay.' Then I said maybe we should order room service. He got very weird. He was like ‘No, no, no room service. I will go out and get us food. What do you want?' I asked why. He said because the food was terrible here. I'm like, No, it's not. He sat down on the bed right next me. Then he grabbed me and said, ‘I kind of snuck in'.”

“What!” Sierra said.

“That's what I said. He was like, ‘Don't get mad. I've done it before with my friends. I thought it would be fun.'”

“What was fun about that? It was your first time. It was supposed to be magic,” Sierra said.

“I thought I was going to pull my hair out,” I said.

“What's wrong with him?” Cece asked.

“Tell me that is not psycho,” Sierra said.

“What did you do?” Cece asked.

I was surprised it didn't seem to feel that bad that Sierra had just called my boyfriend a psycho. Odd. “I told him to march downstairs and request a room,” I said.

“What did he say?” Cece asked.

“He was annoyed with me. He was like, ‘Why should we pay? These hotels make boatloads of cash. Anyway, they always have empty rooms. I could use that money for charity or for my band!'” I said.

“My cousin Veronica always says it takes about two or three months before a guy shows his ways,” Sierra said.

I was waiting for one of those to show up. It'd been months since Sierra mentioned her idol, Veronica. Her father's sister's daughter was as Sierra described: damn near perfect. Any time Sierra talked about her at length, she gave her profile: five-foot-eleven, 125 pounds, long, curly dark hair, big eyes, tiny waist, law degree from Yale, engagement ring the size of the Netherlands on a midsize map. I met her once. She was nice. Very smart, a take-charge type.

Sierra spent most of junior year trying to imitate Veronica's every move. If Veronica said to take this SAT and this class, that is exactly what Sierra did. Meanwhile, Frenchy barely even spoke to Veronica. She called Sierra Veronica's lapdog. I had to stick up for Sierra. I thought it would be cool to have someone to look up to. I just haven't found my someone yet. It could be Mama. I spent enough of my time thinking about her.

“He's not crazy, otherwise you wouldn't still be with him. Right, Milan?” Cece said.

“No, just oddly principled,” I said.

“I like that. It's going on my magic scroll,” Sierra said.

“Right up there with ‘shut up' and ‘as if',” I said.

“You know,” Sierra said.

“Right now, I'm unsure about going to any hotel with Merek,” I said.

“Gimme a break. Even if he is crazy, girl, I'd go. He calls you princess, for Pete's sake! Plus, he's super fly,” Sierra said.

“Well, he's a transfer. It's safe to say he may be uncorrupted,” Cece said.

“I have some time,” I said. I wasn't sure yet. I just didn't want to think about it. Who did I love? A few days after the first time, I started to feel oddly principled myself. I seemed to be at a fork in the road. It was between making my boyfriend happy and betraying the phantom in my heart.

“Frenchy told me something that's been eating me alive since,” Sierra said and snatched up her bag. She fished through the oversize Undercover Starlet satchel.