Tease(81)

Mom is at the door of my room in two seconds. “I told you to stop watching that stuff,” she says.

“But they’re all lying about everything—” I yell, but her hand is up, stopping me.

“That’s it!” she yells, louder. “No more news in this house! Turn it off, Sara, I mean it!”

I close the laptop, leaving it on the floor. We stare at each other for a minute, and then she turns to leave again. She doesn’t even tell me to get ready for school. We both know I’m not going.

As soon as I hear her car leave, I go downstairs and turn on the TV. At first I’m just planning to watch cartoons or something, but I put it on MSNBC and there’s Emma’s face again. Mom says the news is national because Emma was pretty and her parents are rich, but I know it’s because there’s a lawsuit, too. It’s a “groundbreaking anti-bullying” lawsuit, one of the toughest ever brought against a group of minors.

I text Brielle to see if she wants to go to the mall. She’s been skipping a lot too, but now she just writes: can’t talk. lawyerzzzz. :p

I don’t know what that means. I look back at the TV and see another screenshot of all our posts on Emma’s Facebook wall, the day before she died.

What’s it like being a skank?

My profile picture and my name are blurred out, but I know that one was mine. Under the comment you can see there were twenty-two likes, but the people on the show are just talking about me now, about how girls are passive-aggressive or something, I don’t know. There’s a child psychologist on. I’ve never met him and he has no idea what he’s talking about.

“Shut up!” I yell at the man on the screen. “Leave me alone!”

But of course, he can’t hear me. No one can.





October


“YOU LOOK NICE,” Alex says. He’s got milk on his chin from the oversize spoon of Cheerios he just stuffed in his mouth. It actually sounds like he just said “Ooo ook ice,” but it’s sweet. Probably the sweetest thing I’ll be hearing all day.

“Thanks, bud.” I look down at my navy skirt and dark-red sweater. I look like I’m running for student council president, but I figure it follows the rules Natalie gave me. The first time we went to court, which was really just a weird conference room with a judge in it, I wore a bright-yellow shirt. I thought Natalie was going to kill me when she saw it. It was hot outside that day, but she made me put on a gray cardigan she had in her car.

Anyway. It’s cold today. And I think my outfit says I’m taking this seriously.

I sit down at the table with Alex and Tommy, but I can’t eat. Just watching them inhale their breakfasts makes me feel like throwing up. If I only could just vomit, even half as often as I think I’m going to, I’d probably feel a lot better. Or a lot worse, I guess, I don’t know. Alex slurps the last of the milk straight out of his bowl and I look away.

“You sure you got it all, little man?”

Dad’s voice makes me jump—it’s always too loud, too much him. My stomach lurches again. Across from me, I see Tommy tense up too, but Alex grins at our father, his mouth still white with milk.

“Hey, Dad!” he says. “Are you gonna pick me up from school today?”

“I dunno, kid,” Dad says. He throws open the cabinet with the mugs in it, slams one down on the counter, fills it with coffee. Leaves the cabinet open. “This thing might take a while. I think your mom set up a ride for both you guys.”

This thing. I shrink a little in my sweater. This thing has already taken a while. It’s taken over my entire life. It will be with me forever.

“Oh,” Alex says, disappointed.

“I don’t know why we can’t go too,” Tommy grouches.

I raise my eyebrows at him, but before I can say anything, Dad jumps in again.

“Nah, you don’t want to go, trust me,” he says. He leans against the counter with his coffee. I’m still not really looking at him, but I can feel his presence, his overwhelming height. He’s in a dark suit. He’s looming. “It’s not going to be any fun.”

“I know,” Tommy says. His voice is quiet now, but still defiant. “I didn’t think it was going to be fun. I just thought we should be there.” His eyes meet mine for just a moment, and I give him a little smile.

“Thanks,” I say to him, but I really just mouth it. He shrugs one shoulder, like, I tried.

I figure my brothers have just given me the strength to get through this thing. Unfortunately, Dad’s right; they don’t want to actually come with us. Too bad my father’s going to be there instead. And Mom—whatever. When Dad’s around, she gets so distracted, I don’t know. Like, she’s not even down here yet. What is she doing?

“Where is that mother of yours?” Dad asks, reading my mind. Again, it’s like he wants us to think he’s being light and funny, but he sounds furious.

“I’ll go find her,” I say, thrilled for the opportunity to get out of here, away from him for another two minutes.

But I’m barely out of my chair when she walks into the kitchen. She has on a dark-gray suit with a silky lavender shirt underneath. It’s the outfit she wears when she has a meeting she’s especially worried about. I don’t know how I remember that, but I do, and it makes me feel even more nervous.