Her hands are on the mask Emily gave me on my 12th birthday, our little private joke. The life drains out of my body as I snatch it from her hands.
I take two steps back. Two steps away from her physically, but miles of distance stretches between us suddenly.
“You should probably go,” I say, walking to the door of my room. The look on Nikki’s face causes me physical pain. She’s confused. Hurt. Probably even a little embarrassed. Selfishly, I wallow in the feel of my own pain as it washes over me, ignoring the sadness etched into her face as I escort her to the front door.
Chapter 27
Nikki
I stand at the top of Zack’s driveway, staring blankly ahead. For a second, I feel like I might have imagined the last five minutes. Then I turn back and see the closed front door, the sound of it slamming shut behind me ringing in my memory over and over again. What the hell just happened? I half expect him to open the door and tell me he’s joking.
But he doesn’t.
Feeling tears well in my eyes, I blink, trying to dam the flood looming just beneath the surface. I can’t cry. Not here. I squeeze my eyes shut and ball my fists until my nails dig deep enough into my palms that it causes me pain. Taking a deep breath, I dig my iPod from my pocket, spin the volume up as high as it can go and pop in both earbuds.
Concentrating only on forcing one foot in front of the other, I make it down the long driveway just as tears begin to blur my vision. I’m about to turn from the house and take off running, when a hand grabs me.
Whipping around, I rip the earbud from my ear as the woman repeats the words she’s just said. Only this time I can hear them. “Your name?”
“What?” Confused, I ask, even though I’ve heard her question. She doesn’t repeat herself. Instead she just stares at me. I look down at my arm, where she’s holding me just below the elbow. Her hold is strong and suddenly I feel nervous even though it’s the middle of the day and we’re out in the wide open.
Her face is hard and serious, as if I’m trying her patience, even though she’s the one with her hands on me. I attempt to pull my arm from her grip, but it’s no use, her fingers are locked around me.
“Nikki,” I say.
She keeps her eyes locked on me but releases my arm. I should run, but something keeps me standing in place. “Why are you here?”
It’s a question I’m not sure I know the answer to. What the hell am I doing here? Zack didn’t invite me. I just showed up. The tears I’d been fighting win out and trickle down my cheeks. “I don’t know. But I shouldn’t have come.”
The woman makes no move to follow me as I take off running. She just stands there, motionless, staring in my direction as I run away.
***
By the time Aunt Claire comes to my room to tell me we’re leaving for brunch soon, I’m not lying when I tell her I’m sick. I drowned the sound of my sobs in a shower long enough for my skin to prune and turn bright red. My head throbs with the aftermath of my crying jag.
“I hope it’s not the flu,” she says, feeling my head for the second time. “The ER has been pummeled by the flu this year. I don’t know why people don’t take their kids for shots.” Realizing my mom probably hadn’t thought about the flu, she backtracks. “I’m sorry, Nikki, I didn’t mean….”
“It’s fine, Aunt Claire. I know what you meant. And I’m sure it’s not the flu.”
She looks at her watch and then back to me. “Maybe I should stay home.”
“To watch me sleep? No, you go. You’ve been looking forward to seeing your friends. I’ll be fine. I promise.”
She looks torn, but agrees. “You’ll call me if you feel any worse?”
“Yes.”
“You promise?”
“I promise.” I smile, feeling comforted by her concern and wanting to reassure her.
Exhausted from my own emotions running a marathon, I fall asleep for a while. I wake up to my phone chiming. A glimmer of hope fills my heart. It could be Zack apologizing. Maybe he was just having a bad day and realized how much he hurt me.
I swallow back tears at seeing Allie’s name on my phone. Not ready to give up hope, I scroll down just in case I’ve missed a text. There’s nothing from Zack. Allie wants to go to a movie. She’s become a good friend, but I’m not in the mood. I text back that I’m not feeling well. But all I really want is to talk to Ashley.
I dial Ashley’s cell, silently praying that her mother has paid the bill. She answers on the second ring and I roll onto my side in the fetal position, ready to spill my guts.
“Hey,” I say. “You busy?”
“Not at all. Supposed to be watching my Mother’s four spawn but a rerun of Jackass is on, so the TV is babysitting.”
“Even the six year old?”
“It’s Jackass, every age loves it.”
I laugh. “I wasn’t worried he wouldn’t love it. Just wondering if a six year old should be watching it.”
“I’d read to them,” she says defensively. “But I don’t have any books now that you’re gone.” I hear the squeak of the rusty-hinged front door open and then slam shut. She’s gone outside to talk. “How are you?”
“I’ve been better.” I sigh, rolling onto my back.
“What happened? Whose ass do I need to kick?”
I feel pathetic and sad and a whole lot confused. “I don’t know.” A tear slowly rolls down my face. “I have no idea.”