The Mother's Promise(19)

“If you need anything, I’ll be here in a flash,” Zoe’s mom said into her ear. “I promise.”

Zoe nodded, working hard to keep the tears at bay. It would be okay, she told herself. What was the worst that could happen?

After the video ended, they played a game of truth or dare.

“Zoe,” Jane said when it was her turn. “Truth or dare?”

Immediately Zoe was blushing. “Uh … truth, I guess.”

Of this, at least, Zoe was certain. She wanted no part in stealing Jane’s brother’s baseball cards, or knocking on the neighbor’s door and running away. And, being Zoe, she hadn’t done enough stuff to have any secrets.

“Have you ever wet the bed?”

“No,” she said immediately. It was the truth. Sleep was one of those blissful places where she was relieved of the burdens she carried during the waking hours. She was far more likely to wet her pants when she was awake and stressed. Still, her blush deepened.

“Are you sure?” Jane said.

Zoe nodded. It was horrible. She knew she looked guilty but this knowledge just made her face hotter. Now everyone was staring at her, little smirks on their faces. She wanted to cry.

“How do we know you’re not lying?” one of the other girls said.

“I … I don’t know.” She tried hard to sound indifferent. “You just have to believe me.”

“I want proof,” Jane said.

Zoe felt the heat rash start to creep up her neck. She didn’t know what to do. Sophie had been the last one to pick truth, and when Sophie answered that no, she didn’t want to kiss Wayne Langford, she hadn’t had to prove it, even though no one, including Zoe, had believed her.

“Whose turn it is next?” Zoe said desperately.

Eventually the game moved on to the next person, but Zoe was still stuck. What was wrong with her? If she had just laughed, like Sophie did, or teased someone else, everyone would have left her alone. Why did she have to be such a freak?

After a while something else started to prey on her mind. What did that mean, they wanted proof? What was going to happen, after she fell asleep? Was someone going to do the old trick of putting her hand into a glass of water?

Her lungs began to constrict, her veins began to prickle.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” she said, standing up.

“Why, are you going to pee yourself?” Jane laughed and a couple of others joined in.

Zoe wondered if that was exactly what she was going to do. The room was dark and she felt for the light switch on the wall. What had she been thinking, coming here? She wanted her mom, her apartment, her own bed—where she could sleep peacefully. I am in a safe place, she told herself. I am calm, collected, and in control.

But she felt a swell in her bladder, and panic gripped her. She pinned her knees together.

“Oh my God!” Jane said, turning her attention from whomever it was she was grilling. “Zoe is going to pee her pants.”

By the time the others looked, it was already streaming down Zoe’s legs. The girls flew to their feet, and then backed away, as if it might knock them down—a tsunami of pee instead of a small puddle at her feet. Zoe couldn’t bear to raise her head, so she just ran out of the room.

If you need anything, I’ll be here in a flash, her mom had said. But Zoe couldn’t find a phone. She picked her way along the corridor toward the front door—looking for a hallstand, somewhere a telephone would be. Down the hall she could hear the television—Jane’s parents watching TV. She tried to breathe, but her throat felt blocked. Her chest was close to bursting. Her heart hammered. She leaned against the wall for support. Her lungs felt flat and tight, a plastic bag void of air.

This was it; she was going to die. She had visions of the girls finding her here, flat on the floor, white-cold. Their terrified faces being the last ones Zoe saw before she blacked out of this world. She wanted her mom.

Just then the sensor light on the front porch flicked on. In the window Zoe saw her mother’s face. She was hallucinating.

“Zoe,” her mother instructed. “Open the door.”

Zoe did. She wondered how her mom could possibly have known that she needed her at that exact moment. Was that something mothers just knew?

“Are you all right?” her mother asked.

Zoe shook her head, gasping.

“Okay, just breathe,” her mother said. “Slowly, not too deep. Come outside and breathe in some fresh air.”

Still light-headed, Zoe allowed her mother to guide her into the cool night air. “Mom,” she gasped. “My chest. I’m … going … to die.”

“It’s just a panic attack, you’re not going to die.” Her mother’s voice was a cool stream on a hot day. She looked Zoe over, her eyes stopping at her soaked pajama pants but only for a second. “We’ve been through this before, it will all be over in a minute if you just relax.”

Zoe let her mom hold her and she weakened in her arms. When it was over, her mother put her into the car while she ran inside to get her things and explain what had happened to Jane’s mother. While she waited, Zoe noticed a blanket on the driver’s seat and a book and her mother’s reading glasses.

“How did you get here so fast?” she asked when her mother returned to the car.

For an instant, she looked guilty. “I just … wanted to be nearby. You know, in case you needed me.”