The Truth About Alice(37)

“What?”

I was staring at the tiny pink flowers on my sheets. I focused in on one and stared it down.

“I’m not going,” I said again.

“Elaine, why? You’ve had such a great week. I saw your food tracker and you’ve eaten beneath your daily points target every day!”

And I’m starving, I thought to myself. And if I eat any more Greek yogurt I’m going to become Greek.

“I just don’t want to go,” I said.

“Would you at least take those covers off your head?”

I thought I would totally lose my nerve or something if I had to look her in the eyes, but I did take the covers off my head and I did stare at her and I did say again, “I just don’t want to go.”

My mom did this deep breath thing and tried to smile, but I could tell she was ticked off. The deal with my mom is that she’s always trying to be my friend, so I could tell she was debating in her head whether or not she should make me go or just pretend that this week was only this weird break in our gal pal routine.

“I just know you’ve had a loss, if that’s what you’re worried about,” she said.

I dug my hands under my covers and I squeezed the pink-flowered sheets and said, “Mom, I’m not going. I’m not going today, and the thing is, I’m not going next week either. I’m not going to Weight Watchers anymore because I don’t want to and I don’t need to. If you want to go, that’s cool, okay? But I’m not going.”

Okay. There. I said it.

My mom did this whole pouty face thing, and I knew she would ignore me for the rest of the day. She turned around and left me alone, and after she walked away, I fell back against my pillows, pretty much totally in awe of myself.

No more holding my breath during weigh-ins. No more listening to old ladies talk about spraying their pizzas with Lysol so they wouldn’t eat them. No more low-point substitutes that taste like crap when you compare them to the real thing. No more no more no more.

I waited until I heard my mom back her SUV out of the driveway. I knew my dad was still asleep. I went downstairs and found a box of S’Mores Pop-Tarts in my dad’s section of the food pantry and I took it back up to my room, crawled into bed, and ate all six of them in ten minutes. The chocolate icing melted on my tongue and the marshmallow filling seemed to be made of nothing but sugar and lard. I didn’t even need to toast them. I just ate them, and I loved every single bite.

When I was done eating, I patted my stomach. Then I looked out the window by my bed down onto my street that goes past the Nealy house and the Carver house until it curves down and around a corner. I couldn’t see past that corner, but I know all of the houses beyond it and I know all of the people who live in them. Just like I know what and who was around every corner of every street in Healy. And this fact, like the box of S’Mores, made me very happy. It made me, like, completely content.

I tossed the empty box into the garbage can where I knew my mom would find it eventually, and I slid back under the covers and fell asleep.





Kelsie

The day before Winter Break is always a half day. It’s also the world’s most pointless school day. Maybe even more pointless than the last day of school. At least on the last day there can be no reason for assigning homework or taking attendance. But the half day before Winter Break is always this total exercise in killing time.

Right before the end of the day, I was stuck in Chemistry and totally bored out of my mind. So I asked to go to the bathroom. I ended up in the bathroom with the Slut Stall. It’s not like we don’t use it all the time or anything.

But normally when I go in there, Alice Franklin isn’t actually inside the bathroom, washing her hands.

I walked in and I saw her and almost immediately I wanted to turn around and walk out, but I knew that would be totally and completely chicken of me. I’d done what I’d done, and I couldn’t take it back.

I didn’t actually have to go to the bathroom. My plan had been to go in and text someone or fool around on my phone or just basically kill time in any other place besides Chemistry class.

But there was Alice Franklin, my former best friend, dressed in that bulky weird sweatshirt and reaching for some paper towels. When I walked in, she lifted her head up and looked right at me. Right into my eyes.

There was nothing to say. I just stood there for a second and then I went into a stall. Not the Slut Stall. A different one. I tried to pee, and I couldn’t. I waited for at least five minutes. I thought I could out wait Alice, but when I heard her tell some girl who walked in after me to get out and that she wanted the bathroom to herself, I knew there wasn’t anything I could do except face her. I came back out and Alice was standing there, staring at me. Her dark brown eyes were just penetrating into me. My heart was racing. I felt sick.

“Why did you tell everyone I had an abortion?” Alice said evenly. Now my heart was thumping so loudly I was sure Alice could hear it. It was like that weird short story we read in English class about the guy who was convinced he could hear the heart of his murder victim underneath the floorboards.

I didn’t answer. I just stood there. Heart thumping.

“Why are you telling everyone that I had an abortion when you know it’s not true?” Alice said. Her cheeks were all red and blotchy, and she was breathing hard. She could be mad at me about so many things. Ditching her. Ignoring her. Starting the Slut Stall. But right then it was the abortion rumor she was the maddest about. And I couldn’t blame her.