The Nowhere Girls(79)

There’s that guy she met at that PCC party last weekend. Chad something. He texted her yesterday and she never texted back. Maybe this one’s different. Maybe he’s more mature because he’s older and in college.

Chad picks her up two blocks away. Amber thinks maybe if he doesn’t see where she lives, he won’t jump to certain conclusions. And maybe because he’s not part of her high school world, he won’t have any preconceived ideas about who she is. She can start with a clean slate. She could be anyone.

She tells him she’s hungry. She hopes maybe he’ll take her out for a real date at a real restaurant. Her heart drops when the car slows and turns into the McDonald’s drive-through. But at least he pays for it.

“Let’s go to my place,” Chad says. In the few minutes it takes to drive to his apartment complex, Amber eats her burger and fries and swallows whatever pride foolishly dared to surface this morning.

Amber has seen apartments like this before. Dishes piled in the sink for who knows how long. Cheap and mismatched secondhand furniture. Stained, drooping couch. Large bong on the coffee table amidst empty bags of chips and beer cans. A rank smell of dirty socks, rancid food, and ball sweat. Walls bare except for one crooked poster of a car Chad will never in his life be able to afford, with a bikini-clad woman on top he will never sleep with.

Amber’s phone rings. The caller ID says it’s that girl Grace from school. What is her problem? Why does she keep bothering Amber? Is it a weird Christian thing? Is Grace trying to save her? Well, too bad. It’s way too late for that.

“Here,” Chad says, handing Amber a plastic cup. She takes a sip of what she guesses is about five shots of cheap vodka with a splash of SunnyD. They talk for approximately four minutes before Chad unceremoniously leans over and puts his mouth on hers, his hand on her breast. He tastes like the room smells.

Amber wishes she’d gone to school today after all. Grace invited her to sit with her weird friends at lunch, but Amber hasn’t taken her up on it yet. Even though Amber doesn’t trust her, even though she has no clue what her angle is, sitting next to her at lunch and wondering what Grace wants from her sure sounds a lot better than this.

She pushes Chad away. “What’s wrong, baby?” he mumbles as he pulls her back. She tries to wiggle out of his arms, but he holds her closer. She hears her phone ring again, and she moves to reach for her purse on the floor, but Chad doesn’t let go.

“Stop,” she whispers, the word so foreign and strange in her mouth. She thinks maybe he didn’t hear her. She says it a little louder.

Chad laughs and pushes her down on the couch. “Yeah, right,” he says, both hands under her shirt, pressing against her ribs, holding her in place.

“No, really,” Amber says, the taste of fear in her mouth. “I’m not joking.”

He pretends not to hear her. He pushes her shirt up until it is gathered around her neck like a noose.

Amber knows she must make a decision. To fight or not to fight.

She is so tired. She thinks today was not a good day to try to not be herself.

She thinks, It doesn’t count as rape if I give up.

She thinks, Different rules apply to different girls. Someone like me doesn’t get to say no.

*

“You guys!” Melissa yells, running up to Rosina and Grace in the hall after school. Sam Robeson follows, silky multicolored scarves trailing after her. “Stop everything you’re doing and come with us,” Melissa says.

“What’s going on?” asks Grace.

Rosina doesn’t need to know. She’ll go wherever Melissa asks her to.

“We’re going to the police station,” Melissa says. “Like, right now. Lisa and Abby are already on their way.”

“Numbers nine and ten have come forward, too,” Sam says.

“Holy shit,” Rosina says. “This is really happening.”

“Did you ever get ahold of Amber?” Melissa asks.

Grace shakes her head. “I tried. She never answered.”

“It’s okay,” Sam says. “Four girls is totally enough.”

“We have to find Erin,” Grace says.

“I already talked to her,” Sam says. “She’s not coming. She said she had something really important to do after school.”

“What’s more important than this?” Grace says.

“Probably just taking a shower and watching Star Trek,” Rosina grumbles.

“I’m ready for you two to stop being mad at each other,” Grace says.

“Let’s go,” Melissa says. “You can both ride with me.”





ERIN.


Otis Goldberg’s car is clean and tidy inside. Erin finds this acceptable, maybe even pleasing. She might be comfortable if she wasn’t so anxious.

“Take a right here,” she manages to say, though what she wants to do is open the door and jump out of the moving car.

“Okeydokey,” he says.

“What is this music?” Erin says. “And who buys CDs anymore?” She realizes the words may have sounded rude. She reminds herself to work on this. This may have been something she would have asked Rosina to help her with, but not anymore.

“In answer to your first question,” Otis says. “This is Muddy Waters, the greatest blues musician in history. In answer to your second question, I buy CDs because I can get them used cheap. All kinds of cool old music like this.”