A Nearly Normal Family(80)

“Please,” said Amina. “I’m begging you.”

She wanted to dance, party, meet people. She said she was feeling more stoked than ever. And, of course, like the best friend I want and try to be, I rallied. We goofed around, dancing to old Eurovision songs, crowding in front of the mirror in the hall, changing and exchanging outfits. Just before midnight we got on our bikes and breezed down the hills toward Tegnérs.



* * *



We tossed our hair and sweated beneath explosions of light on the dance floor. Amina held my hand as we slalomed between whirling nightclub bodies, and we soon landed at the bar, breathless, to order ciders from the bearded bartender.

I was drenched with sweat and my head was pounding.

“Look at that!” Amina said, pointing across the bar. “Wasn’t he supposed to be with an old friend?”

Chris was standing with his back to the bar, leaning slightly over a bare-shouldered girl with silver earrings. They were laughing, and her hand gently brushed his elbow.

“Who is she?” said Amina.

I grabbed my cider and rounded the bar. Chris was just about to turn around—he was still laughing when he discovered me.

“Stella! You’re here too?”

I tensed my whole body in protest when he hugged me. The girl with all the earrings looked at me in surprise.

“This is my friend Beatrice,” said Chris.

I sized her up as we shook hands. She was around twenty-five, or maybe thirty, and wore a lot of makeup. She had big lips and a tight body.

“Sorry,” I said. “When you said ‘old friend,’ I thought…”

“Old?” Beatrice said with a laugh.

Chris faked a look of shame.

“So how do you know each other?” I asked.

“Originally through Chris’s ex,” said Beatrice.

Chris pretended not to hear and said something about how much he liked my top. He didn’t seem into this conversation at all, but I wasn’t about to let it go.

“You mean Linda?” I asked.

Beatrice looked at Chris, who yielded to her with a shrug.

“Linda and I became friends back in school,” said Beatrice. “I was actually there the first time she and Chris met. We hung out quite a bit back in the beginning of their relationship, before she … got sick.”

She lowered her head a little.

“Sick?” I said.

Beatrice nodded, but didn’t elaborate.

“Linda tracked me down,” I said, turning to Chris, who face-palmed.

“Seriously?”

“She even found Amina. She wanted to warn us about you. She claimed you did some pretty sick stuff.”

“Jesus Christ,” said Chris. “I’ve had enough of this. She’s out to ruin my life, no matter what it takes.”

“It’s so sad,” Beatrice said, patting Chris’s arm. “Linda was the sweetest girl in the world when I first got to know her. So kind and considerate. Yeah, maybe she was a little paranoid and jealous even then, but who would have ever thought things would end up like this?”

“Can’t she get help?” I asked. “Like, from a psychiatrist?”

“Linda’s been seeing therapists since she was a teenager,” said Chris.

“Unfortunately it’s only getting worse,” said Beatrice. “When Chris broke up with her, she totally lost it.”

More or less as I had suspected. Linda Lokind wasn’t entirely right in the head. I shot Amina a meaningful look.

She placed a hand on my shoulder.

“Bathroom,” she said.

“But…”

“Now please. Before I pee myself.”



* * *



We closed ourselves into a stall and took turns peeing. I felt warm and out of sorts; my head was heavy. Was it some sort of virus? Maybe I had just been working too hard.

“What’s up with you?” Amina asked.

“I don’t know. I’m beat.”

Really, all I wanted to do was go home and crawl into bed.

“Now do you believe me?” I asked. “Do you get that Linda Lokind is totally disturbed?”

She slapped her forehead to illustrate how dumb she had been.

“How was I supposed to know? I didn’t want to take the chance.”

“It’s fine,” I assured her.

“He’s awfully yummy,” Amina said with a sly smile.

“Who?”

“Your summer fling.”

I smiled, but an instant later I was struck with an urgent sense of unease. I didn’t know where it came from or what it meant, but it crept through my body.

“Now, come on!” Amina said, opening the stall door. “I’m so freaking hyped!”

We wound our way to the center of the roiling dance floor. I battled my sleepiness as Amina put on a show. She pumped her arms and laughter rose from her mouth like soap bubbles.

I looked for Chris in the crowd and found him standing at the bar. Amina followed close behind me as I walked up to him.

“Where is Beatrice?” I asked.

“She went home to her boyfriend.”

My head was heavy. The beats throbbed in my belly and my legs felt weaker and weaker.