Cut. Part 6

"No, you need to go. You'll be late for school-you should go. Please take care of yourself."

"I will, Mom." I walked out the door.

The rest of the day was a blur. I'm pretty sure I went to the right cla.s.ses at the proper times. Not that it mattered. Finals started on Monday, and graduation was the only thing the seniors were interested in talking about.

All I could think about was Mom. I'd abandoned her, left her alone with his wrath. There would be no buffer for her now, no one to distract him from her. What kind of daughter did that make me? Selfish? Hateful? Cruel? Would she ever forgive me for leaving her?

When the last bell rang, I wasn't sure if I could move. Everyone else raced out the doors, pre-summer break energy surging through their veins. I was exhausted. If I could only stay at my desk, I wouldn't have to face any of the decisions waiting for me out there. Should I clean out my locker now or wait until next week? Did I need a date for prom? Would I even go? Where was I going to sleep tonight? Did my mom still love me?

"Persephone, you know cla.s.s is over, right?" Mrs Hall was smiling at me from the front of the cla.s.sroom.

"Oh yeah, sorry."

"Are you okay? You seemed, um, preoccupied in cla.s.s today."

"Yeah, I'm fine. Fight with my boyfriend."

She c.o.c.ked her head to one side and put on what I'm sure she thought was an inviting, sympathetic smile. "Would you like to talk about it? I remember my first big break-up in high school. It's not easy. But believe me, it's not the end of the world. You have your whole future ahead of you. You will find someone better."

Why is it when adults ask if you want to talk about something they really mean, 'Would you like to sit there while I talk at you? Could you please validate me as a real grown-up, tell me how hip and relatable I am? Could you just stroke my ego a little and let me feel like I've helped you without really having to do anything?'

"Uh huh. I know. He was a douche bag anyway." I could feel it back there, bubbling in my throat, wanting so desperately to come out. You see, Mrs. Hall, he wanted me to help him start dealing. I guess the cops are on to him, so he needs me to make his regular deliveries. He said they wouldn't suspect someone as sweet-looking as me. I told him I wasn't sure if I could do that. He punched me a few times, but not where the bruises show. He's smart like that.

I didn't say any of those things. Maybe I'd finally reached my capacity for lying. Maybe that was the last one I had in me, at least for today anyway. I couldn't even look her in the eye anymore.

She giggled, with the I'm the cool teacher who will let some bad language slide because we're just two buddies talking now giggle. "Fair enough. Well, if you need anything just let me know. I'm more than a teacher, you know. I really care about my students outside the cla.s.sroom." Seriously? What Saved by the Bell episode did you steal that from? If you have to tell your students that then it's not really true.

"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind. Guess I should get going."

"See you Monday, Persephone."

"Yeah." I gathered my backpack and went into the hallway. It was pretty much empty now. One way led to the front door and my car, where I would have to decide where to go when I exited the parking lot. The other way led to my locker. Prolonging the inevitable, but still inviting.

Taking a step in either direction was too much to handle. I sank back against the wall, staring at my hands. Peeking out from under my sleeves were the tips of almost healed cuts. They were a few weeks old, barely more than scratches now. By the time graduation rolled around in a week, they would fade into the scar tissue already crisscrossing my skin. If I didn't reopen them. My locker could wait. I headed for my car.

Sitting on the hood, smoking a cigarette with all the defiance of an almost-graduated senior, was Maggie. "Dumba.s.s, if they catch you they can suspend you!"

"Yeah, and? I'll miss prom? Not get to walk across the stage with the rest of the idiots at graduation? Do I still get my diploma?"

I shrugged. She had a point. "Um, yeah, I guess. h.e.l.l, give me one."

"They're in my bag. I'm not moving."

"Where's your lighter?" Maggie flicked it at me, almost hitting me in the head. "Hey! Watch it! What's wrong with you? You're acting like a very large insect has recently burrowed into your a.n.a.l cavity."

"f.u.c.k you," Maggie replied.

"Whoa there, skippy pants. What did I do to you?"

"Oh, I can't imagine. Maybe not returning a single d.a.m.n text or phone call in almost two weeks? Completely disappearing? What kind of f.u.c.king friend are you anyway?"

I stood there in the flood of Maggie's anger and expletives, taken completely off-guard. "What the h.e.l.l are you talking-"

"Please spare me the innocent who-me-look, Persephone." I fumbled to get my phone out of my pocket. "And don't pull the whole 'my phone's not working, it died, it doesn't show any missed calls' bulls.h.i.+t. I've seen you do it to a thousand other people. Delete their calls and then pretend you never got them. Give me more consideration than that, okay? I deserve at least that much."

"No, I wasn't going to-"

"You know, I'm always here when you need me. Phone calls at three in the morning. Canceling dates because you need a place to stay. Convincing my mom you're not a complete freaking loser so she'll let me be friends with you. I'm done, Persephone. We graduate next week. At the end of the summer, I'm leaving for college. You know-college? Are you even going? Forget it, I don't care if you are or not. But I'm not going to be here to watch you wallow anymore. We all have problems-get over yourself, okay? Do yourself a favor and get on with your life, but leave me the h.e.l.l out of it!"

During her enraged speech I went from contrite to sad to plain old-fas.h.i.+oned p.i.s.sed off. Who the h.e.l.l did she think she was? So maybe I had been incommunicado for a week or so. Big deal. It wasn't the end of the world. A few days over the course of a six year friends.h.i.+p? If she was so petty she could walk away over one or two unreturned texts then to h.e.l.l with her. I didn't need her anyway.

"Fine. What the h.e.l.l ever. Get your fat a.s.s off my car so I can leave."

Maggie shook her head, looking defeated. "Okay." She slid off and picked up her bag. "It didn't have to be like this, Persephone." She gave me what seemed to be a look of pity. I wanted to punch her.

"Go to h.e.l.l."

"You know if you would just-"

"I thought you were leaving?" And she did. She walked away.

I needed to drive. I needed to go fast and play loud music. I needed to smoke and yell and feel the rush of knowing one small mistake and my car would run off the road, be smashed to bits, me inside.

A few miles from the school were country roads leading to towns even smaller than mine. I headed in that direction without even thinking. My phone was plugged in, iTunes blaring.

I wasn't even sure what playlist it was on. I didn't care, as long as the music continued to sound loud and angry.

I threw curse words out my window like litter, destroying the peaceful landscape with my filth and waste. My fist pounded my steering wheel and the car filled with haze from one cigarette after the other, even though the window was down.

How dare she? I was there for her. We were together all the time on the weekends. I drove her drunk a.s.s home from more parties than I could remember. And what the h.e.l.l did she mean about canceling dates? She hadn't dated any more than I had! I couldn't remember the last time she even went out with a guy more than a few times.

Well, there was the one guy at the beginning of the year. Mitch, Mike, Marvin? How the h.e.l.l was I supposed to remember? He was from another school, and I only met him one time. It was a night Mom was drunk when I got home from school, and Dad was supposed to be home from a trip anytime. I texted Maggie two blocks from her house and told her I was staying over.

They were watching a movie when I walked in. I guess she hadn't gotten my text-or didn't read it. Either way, she looked surprised to see me standing in her living room. She untangled herself from him and jumped up. There were awkward introductions. After grunting some sort of response I made a beeline for Maggie's room. I had no desire to be charming for a complete stranger, and Maggie knew that. Twenty minutes later he left, and we didn't mention him again that night.

A few weeks later I asked about him, and she said they weren't seeing each other anymore. She actually looked upset about it. I told her not to worry, he looked like kind of a loser anyway.

Had I told her he couldn't have a ride to the parties we went to over those few weeks? Part of me remembered something like that. And I think I told her I would prefer he not meet us there either. But in all fairness, I knew if Maggie had someone there and I didn't, I would be abandoned. I mean, it's not like she was with me every single night. She had five other nights out of the week to see him, right? Well, at least three nights out of the week. And weren't friends supposed to take precedence over boyfriends? What was the girl equivalent of bros before hos?

She knew when she signed up for the job being my friend wasn't easy. Maggie was the first person who saw my scars for what they were. No amount of lying would deter her. So when she asked why, I didn't even try to cover it up. I spilled everything (well, almost everything), verbally vomiting all over her. Maggie's mom was out that night, hooking up with some new guy, leaving two twelve year old girls to fend for themselves. Something Maggie said was a regular occurrence, like it was no big deal, even though her body language said something entirely different. And for the first time, I saw the reflection of my own screwed up home life in someone else's eyes. We both finally felt some safety in a relations.h.i.+p.

How many nights after that did I text her after midnight, distraught, needing some words of comfort? Not too many. She had been asleep, I knew that. We had a test in science the next day, and I kept her up until two or three in the morning talking. I couldn't remember if either one of us pa.s.sed, but I didn't think so. It was just one test, after all.

The memories of nights, weekends, skipped cla.s.ses, and missed parties started piling up in my brain. Yeah, I could keep telling myself Maggie knew what she was getting into, that I gave as much as she did, but was it true? I suddenly didn't think it was.

"Well, s.h.i.+t." I flipped a cigarette b.u.t.t out the window and looked for a driveway to turn around in. I hated facing the music. I wasn't good at it. "See? This is why I don't like people! This is what happens!" The car didn't answer. "I tried, okay? I tried to be a good friend!" More silence. "Oh shut up!"

I thought about calling Maggie before I showed up at her front door, but why break old habits? Besides, I was afraid she would tell me not to bother, and I didn't want to give her the choice.

Her car was in the driveway. Any other time I would have let myself in, but I figured she deserved more courtesy considering the circ.u.mstances. Maggie's eyes were red and puffy when she answered the door. It made me feel even worse. And then I was angry because I felt worse. I fought down the urge to lash out, say horrible things to hurt her even more.

I didn't want to be a predator-see an exposed weakness and exploit it in every way possible. Or pick off the wounded and torture them just because I could. I didn't want to be my father.

"What the h.e.l.l do you want?"

"Maggie, I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"Seriously?"

"Yes. Tell me what you're sorry for. You don't get off that easy, Persephone."

I was sorry because I was losing one of the only two friends I had in the world. I was sorry because I was hurt. I was sorry because I knew I'd done something wrong, but I wasn't quite sure what it was. I was sorry because I didn't like feeling this way. I was sorry because I didn't know how to stop feeling this way.

But none of those answers were right. None of them would make it better, and I needed to make it better. I didn't want to lie to Maggie, not anymore. I knew what she wanted to hear. The problem was I didn't know if I would really mean it, or if I would be lying to get myself out of a bad situation. I began small.

"I'm sorry I didn't return any of your calls or texts the past couple of weeks." Did I mean that? Yes, I was sorry about that. If I had taken the time to even say hi back, I wouldn't be in this situation to begin with. Okay, so far so good. "I'm sorry I hurt your feelings." Also true. I was on a roll. "I'm sorry I took you and our friends.h.i.+p for granted. I was in so much pain, I couldn't see beyond what I wanted and needed." Whoa, where did that come from? It felt true. I kept going. "And I'm sorry I lied to you over and over again." Oh s.h.i.+t. Maggie didn't know I'd ever lied to her. Please, please, please say you didn't hear that last part.

I hurried on. "Can we go inside? Or go for a ride or something? I feel stupid standing in your doorway like this."

"Then feel stupid. I obviously get to feel stupid while my best friend explains all the times she's lied to me."

How in the h.e.l.l was I going to get out of this one?

"Maggie, I didn't mean it like that. It's just sometimes it's easier to, I don't know. It's like when you know something's going to cause a big drama, so you don't say anything. You know?"

She scoffed. "You? Not want to cause drama? Are you kidding me? You are the queen of wreaking havoc! When has consideration for my peace and quiet ever stopped you from bursting into my life?"

This was not going well, and she was starting to p.i.s.s me off again. "Seriously, Maggie, I need a cigarette. Can't we go smoke somewhere?"

"Then smoke. Mom won't be home for hours. Girls' night out." Girls' night out, in Maggie's mom's world, was code for trolling bars for the next likely suspect. She wouldn't come home until some guy was drunk enough to look past the fact she was a middle-aged single mother of a teenager. There was a good chance she wouldn't come home even then. She would stay at his house instead. How many girls' nights out had I been grateful for because it meant I had Maggie and her house all to myself? How many nights had I missed the obvious pain and anger on Maggie's face? I knew the answer. Too many.

"Fine. Come out to my car with me then. Please?"

She shrugged. "Whatever. I need one anyway."

When we got closer to the car, Maggie spied the overstuffed bag in the back seat. "Going somewhere?"

I had come this far-might as well dive in with both feet. "Well, actually, I guess I am."

"What do you mean? Where are you going?"

"There's kind of a funny story about that." Maggie raised her eyebrows, indicating I should tell said funny story. "Let me give you the short version. I got a job taking care of this old guy. It's a full-time, live-in kind of thing. I'm going to work for him through the summer until I leave for school."

"And your parents are okay with that? How did you find this job? Are you even qualified? What's wrong with him? Wait, school? Where are you going? You didn't even tell me you were accepted somewhere."

"Slow down, scooter. I got accepted at OU. I just found out a few days ago. And yes, I'm qualified. It's not like he's dying or anything." But that wasn't really true, was it? I didn't know what was wrong with Ken. "I stumbled into it through a mutual friend. As far as my parents are concerned, well..." I let the sentence die. What else could I say? It was complicated, and I was worn out. I should have known Maggie wouldn't let it go.

"What do you mean 'well'? They do know you're moving out, right? G.o.d, Persephone, please don't tell me you're running away like some little kid!"

"Wouldn't you? I have the chance to get out! I have to take it!"

"Persephone! This is crazy! You're moving in with some old guy, without your parents' permission I might add, and you're acting like it's no big deal. Do you even know this guy? He could be some sick twist that will kill you in your sleep!"

"Listen, Maggie, there's more to the story. It's not like that. I know the guy. I mean, I've been going over there for a while. I've even spent the night there. He's really a good-"

"What the h.e.l.l, Persephone? G.o.d, I don't know anything about you anymore! What do you mean you've been going over there? You are so, so... Jesus, I don't even know the right word. I just can't believe you!"

"Please, Maggie, listen to me. I'll tell you the whole thing. Better yet, why don't you come with me to his house? You can meet him for yourself. I can tell you all about it on the way there. C'mon. You'll really like him." I could see her cracking. It was probably more out of curiosity than forgiveness, but I took what I could get. "Seriously, what else are you going to do? It'll be fun."

"Fine. I'll grab my purse and lock the door. I still think this is a really bad idea, for the record."

"Duly noted."

On the way to Ken's, I filled her in on the missing details-the phone calls from James, the first time I went over to Ken's to read ("Jesus, Persephone! You didn't even know the guy! Are you stupid?"), and the job offer. I left out some of the more intimate details like why I spent the night there and Ken's sister. It wasn't really lying-it was more like a sin of omission. A step in the right direction at least.

When I was done, Maggie stared out the window and stayed silent. I wanted to ask her what she was thinking-if we were okay now-but I was scared of the answer. Once you got on her s.h.i.+t list, it was d.a.m.n near impossible to get off. My only hope was all the good memories of our friends.h.i.+p would outweigh the c.r.a.ppy ones.

"So here we are." My announcement seemed to startle her. The car had been quiet too long.

"Yep. Well, let's go in and meet this guy."

Ken was dozing in the recliner when we came in. It was a little after five, and I wondered how long he had been asleep. Had he been waiting on me? Great, my first day 'on the job', and I was already s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g things up.

"Ken, it's me. Wake up." I gently tapped his shoulder, and he came awake with a start and his fists clenched.

"Oh, Persephone, it's you. Sorry, I was just resting."

"That's okay. I hope it's alright, I brought a friend with me. She wanted to meet you." It made him sound like an exhibit at a carnival sideshow.

"No, that's fine. Come on in." He struggled to get out the chair, and I put out my arm to help steady him. His weight wasn't as hard to hold as I thought it would be. When had he gotten so thin and why hadn't I noticed before now?