My Best Friend's Exorcism(42)

Abby tried to pull away but Mrs. Lang gripped her hands tighter.

“No,” she said, “you don’t understand. Someone attacked Gretchen. Someone did this to her. The drugs, it was only one time. They’re not important.”

“Oh, Abby,” Mrs. Lang said. “Don’t you see? Her sickness starts with you. We’ve taken Gretchen to the doctor. There was no intercourse. You’re the one who hurt Gretchen. You did it, not someone else. You gave her the drugs that made her this way. There’s no ‘one time’ with drugs. And I bet this isn’t the first time you’ve skipped school together.”

Abby yanked her hands back and they slipped, sweat-slick, through Mrs. Lang’s fingers.

“I’m her friend,” she said. “I didn’t hurt her. Somebody else did.”

“Don’t lie to us,” Mr. Lang said. “We should have taken steps a long time ago. We thought being around Gretchen would be good for you. Not once did we imagine this is how you’d repay our kindness.”

They were acting like they were the victims, and that’s what made Abby’s mouth start talking before her brain could slow it down.

“Why are you blaming me?” she heard herself say. “You’re the ones who dragged her to that doctor who couldn’t even tell she wasn’t a virgin anymore. You’re the ones who spy on her all the time. You did this to her. This is your fault. I’m trying to save her!”

“Is that what the drugs tell you?” Mrs. Lang said.

“I’m not on drugs,” Abby shouted. “I’m the only person trying to help Gretchen! You two don’t care about her! You just want to control her. You hit Gretchen! All you care about is that she doesn’t embarrass you!”

She wasn’t even aware of what was coming out of her mouth. She just threw words at them, hearing them only after they were echoing around the room. Mr. Lang cut her off.

“Get out, Abby,” he said. “We have given you every chance, but you have poisoned our daughter and our family. If we had known what kind of girl you were, we never would have welcomed you into our home. You’re lucky I’m not calling the police. I am giving you a very adult second chance right now. I am going to call your mother and let her deal with you, despite all the evidence that she has not done a very good job.”

Abby was desperate. Someone had to do something.

“This happened!” she shouted. “You can’t make it go away. She was raped!”

Mr. Lang’s face turned to stone.

“Let me tell you something, young lady,” he said. “If you repeat these vile allegations to anyone, then I will not hesitate to call the police and have you arrested for drugs. And that won’t be the end of it. You do not want to see what my lawyer can do to your parents.”

Tears spiked out of Abby’s eyes. No adult had ever hated her before, and she was reeling. But how could they not believe their daughter had been raped when all the evidence was right there in front of them?

“Is it you?” Abby asked. “Are you protecting someone?” She looked at Mrs. Lang. “Is it him?”

In an instant, Mrs. Lang was off the couch and she had Abby by one arm and was marching her to the door. Abby tried to pull away, but Mrs. Lang dug in her claws, leaving bruises on the soft skin inside Abby’s elbow.

“How dare you,” Mrs. Lang hissed, and then she kept hissing the words over and over all the way to the door. “Don’t come back, Abby. Do not come back. Not for a long time. Not ever.”

Then she shoved Abby outside and slammed the door. Through the glass, Abby watched her lock it. They were treating her like a criminal. They were locking their doors like she was some dangerous delinquent. As if she couldn’t just throw one of their stupid modern flowerpots right through the glass and get back inside if she wanted.

Abby walked to the street, the humid air thawing her as she went, and she realized that she was still wearing Gretchen’s sweater. It suddenly felt very precious.

When Abby got home, she saw that the answering machine light was blinking. One unplayed message. Her hand was shaking so hard, it took her three tries to press Play.

“Mary, this is Grace Lang,” Mrs. Lang’s tiny recorded voice said. Even though it was small, Abby could feel it filling her house with contempt. “I am calling because of what we have learned about Abby today—what she came to our house and admitted—and we are shocked. Please call us as soon as you get this message. This matter is very serious, and we hope there’s no need to get the police involved.”

Abby’s head felt light. A high-pitched whine rang in her ears as she pushed Erase, deleting Mrs. Lang’s message forever.

“I’ll save you, Gretchen,” Abby swore to herself. “They can’t stop me from saving you.”





Jenny (867–5309)


The next morning, Abby parked in the student lot and headed straight to the main office.

“Miss Toné,” she said, “I need to speak with Major.”

There was no emergency that Miss Toné hadn’t seen, and since Abby wasn’t visibly bleeding she made her wait until the first bell.

“I’ll give you a late slip,” Miss Toné said. “But you need to take a breath.”

Abby kept an eye on the window, trying to see if Gretchen was going to walk into school, but she never appeared. The bell rang and Major came through the door. He liked to roam the halls before first period, handing out demerits for bare shoulders, bizarre fads and fashions, or any sartorial expression of personal identity that had no place at Albemarle Academy. He had just finished writing up Jumper Riley for a dress code violation (hair touching his collar) when he saw Abby and stopped short.