This choice: Stay and find out what's going on. • Go Back...Chapter #32Imposter Syndrome by: Seuzz   "Are you texting Will now?" you ask. It feels like your eyes are going to pop from your head.
Eva rolls her own eyes. "Ye-es!"
You drop the armful of clothes and lunge at Eva. "Lemme see." She scrambles back and bats at you as you grab for the phone.
"Jessica!" she yells. "The fff—! What are you doing?"
"I just wanna see! What are you texting Will for?" Dimly, you're aware that you're making a huge scene. What are they going to say to each other when the real Jessica gets back?
"What business is it of yours?" Eva hollers.
"Since when did you get interested in Will Prescott?"
Eva gasps and her eyes go wide. Her face reddens.
And every one of Jessica's instincts tells you to run. You've managed to step on that nerve. That one. The one that's attached to about twenty tons of TNT.
Eva Garner is the shyest and sweetest of the Garner siblings, the one who makes the least trouble. But that doesn't mean she hasn't got the sass and vinegar of her sister, and the fizz of her brother. She just keeps it bottled up tighter.
Which makes it even worse when it does explode.
She draws a deep breath. It's like a blast furnace sucking in raw oxygen. "What did you say?" she demands in a deep growl.
"I didn't mean anything by it, Eva." You raise your hands to ward her off.
"You have the fffffff—reaking gall to ask me why the fffff—reak I might be—" She chokes.
"I didn't mean it that way!" you gabble. "And if you're not interested in him, that's great!"
She hurls her phone at your face. You block it with a hand, and cry out as it hits you.
"You bitch!" Eva bounces up off the bed to charge at you. You stumble and fall back onto Jessica's bed, and Eva pins you there. "You are all kinds of something, you know that! Where the fffff-u-u-u-u— do you get off asking me—?" She grabs your hair, and you yell. "Sometimes I just want to kill you in your sleep!" She cuffs you.
Then she gets up. Her face is tomato-red, and her eyes and mouth are screwed up hard.
She bursts into tears and runs from the room.
You sit up in a daze. For a solid minute you can't even form a coherent thought.
Then you spot her phone on the floor and pick it up. Her text messages are open. And yes, she's texting the guy who has your phone.
* * * * *
It's a cryptic conversation, one that bounces violently from topic to topic. You feel your stare turn haggard as "Will" talks about friends and acquaintances. Not that he says anything you don't agree with. Javits is an asshole, like the rest of the basketball team. Keith is incorrigibly horny and needs to be dosed with saltpeter. It really must suck for James Lamont to be so obviously in love with Jenny Ashton, and for Jenny to string him along.
But the one text that really makes you stare is the first from "Will": So had tons f fun last nite. At first you take it as a reference to the night before, when (you "remember") a guy disguised as you came out to apologize to Eva for being a dumbass. But that doesn't sound like "fun." And not until you remember that Laurent and his friends were armed with your mask last night—when you stayed in instead of going to a movie—does it occur to you what must have happened.
One of them must have put on your gear and taken Eva out on a date.
The thought leaves you both hot and cold. Hot with anger at the presumption, cold with fear of what they might be setting you up for. There's no room between these emotions for any other.
You're trembling all over when you drop the phone, and there's no feeling in your arms or legs as you bend to pick up the clothes. The guest bathroom door is shut when you go out into the hallway, and the fan is running even though there's no light showing under the door. Great, you think. Eva's bawling her eyes out in there. Then, as you pass Marc's bedroom door: Fuck. He is going to kill me for this.
You kick the bottom of his door with your heel. "I'm going," you mutter. "Be down in the garage." You wait until you hear the sound of someone moving on the other side, then run downstairs.
* * * * *
The minivan is moving when you wake, and Marc glances into the back at you from the driver's seat. "That only took for fucking ever," he growls.
"Sorry. I got tied up with Eva." A lump as heavy as lead and as hot as uranium is sitting in your stomach. "Um—"
"Well, you got the shit and I didn't have to see you, so it's all good. I'm gonna get rid of that mask, though."
"Jessica's? Good idea," you murmur back.
"What?"
"Nothing."
The rain is coming down hard as he pulls up at the park. The guys come running over and burst into the minivan with a lot of hoarse shouts and laughs. You shrink up in a corner as they all squeeze in, smelling of old wet clothes and testosterone. The clothing pile gets sorted through and passed out, and one by one the guys flop into seats and onto benches, where they press masks onto their faces. The minivan goes quiet as they pass out, and soon you are surrounded by a bunch of girls, all of them slumped over and unconscious.
But Marc hasn't changed. He's in the front seat, behind the wheel, his head bent over as he taps at his cell phone.
You hesitate, then crawl out of the minivan and move up into the passenger side. He doesn't glance over, even after he's finished typing.
"Listen, you need to know something," you tell him. "I made a huge mess back there, at your house."
"Yeah?" He doesn't look up.
"Your sisters are going to be really pissed at each other. I, uh, didn't know what was going on between them when I went in, and I made things worse."
"That's a hazard," he says in a clipped tone.
"I made 'em a lot worse."
That gets his attention, and he gives you a piercing look.
"So just stay out of it," you tell him. "Don't get involved, don't try to fix things. It's got nothing to do with you, and you might make it, you know, worse for yourself if you—"
"Yeah okay, just shut up," he says. He glares out at the rain. "Look, thanks for your help," he adds after a short silence. "It's all my fault, I guess, I'm the one who— Well, anyway," he sighs, "let's just stop with all that stuff of, you know, with Jessica. Let's try to start over like none of this shit ever happened. Okay?"
He turns back to you. His jaw is set and his glance is keen. It's not a friendly expression, but he doesn't look like he wants to kill you. And when you nod, he puts out a hand. You shake. It feels like he's trying to crush all the bones in your hand, but you decide that's just his way of trying to show sincerity.
But you also decide against telling him that someone is using your face to get close to Eva. No, you figure, it's better to grab Laurent and tell him to cut it the fuck out.
* * * * *
So you're in no mood for hijinks, and after the others have woken and piled back out of the minivan you ask Marc to drive you back to your place. He agrees to, and lets you borrow his cell to text the guy who's covering for you so he can come out to meet you. He texts back to tell you to look for him at the old elementary school a few blocks from your house.
But you arrive only to find the abandoned rain poncho, in a sopping heap by the corner where he said he'd be waiting. Fucking coward, you think. It pisses you off so much that you decide to wait a few hours before texting Laurent to yell at him.
He texts you first, though it's way late in the afternoon when he does. Hey will missd u w guys tday. Ment t tell u that u had date w eva last nite. Went ok I gess.
That renews your fury, and it's another hour before you are calm enough to reply without screaming at him: Yes I found ut wish I knew bfore kind of fukd thngs up fr me.
Laurent replies: ????
Nvr mind, you tell him as you get mad all over again. Tlk moondy.
Best to put it off, you tell yourself. And yet you are overcome with a sense of dread. There will be another whole day for things to get worse if you wait until then to hash it out.
But they get much worse much sooner than that. Your dad calls you down at eight o'clock. "Ten minutes," he tells you. "You're ungrounded for ten minutes." When you blink at him, he points to the foyer.
Jessica Garner is standing there with a hard glower on her face.   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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