The Nowhere Girls(86)
Sexy, she thinks. Holy shit, I’m sexy.
*
Trista’s father installed a new doorknob on her door that locks from the outside. She can’t come out except for once every two hours to use the bathroom. Mom brings her food and prays with her. After dinner the family has the incredible honor of being visited by Pastor Skinner. Trista is let out of her room to sit with him in the living room to talk about honoring her parents and the church.
As he drones on about respecting authority, Trista thinks about how she’s been raised to always ask herself “What would Jesus do?” She says nothing to Pastor Skinner about how Jesus fought for what he believed in, how he stood up against corrupt people in power, how he showed women kindness and respect at a time in history when they received little of either. But that is not the Jesus who Pastor Skinner is talking about. In fact, the pastor isn’t talking much about Jesus at all.
Trista is being held hostage, and that’s not even teenage hyperbole. This is really, truly a hostage situation. But there’s nothing she can do. She’s a kid. She has no rights. Her parents get to decide what’s right and wrong for her, even if they’re wrong.
*
Elise Powell knows this suspension is supposed to be a punishment, but she’s lying in bed with a grin on her face, looking at the ceiling and not feeling particularly guilty about anything. She already made it through the initial terror of her future being destroyed like Principal Slatterly promised—her parents’ disappointment, getting kicked off the softball team, losing her scholarship to U of O. After their visit to the principal’s office, as Elise explained her side of the story to her parents, she swears she saw her mom fighting a smile. Most important, they believed her. And when Elise called her coach in tears begging not to be kicked off the team, after a short pause and what sounded like a door closing, Coach Andrews whispered, “Don’t tell anyone, but, girl, I am so proud of you. And I’m pretty sure my friends over at U of O will feel the same way.”
But there is something even bigger than all that, something more unexpected and magical and earth shattering, something she is happy to spend her weeklong suspension replaying in her head over and over and over again: She had a date. With a boy. A cute, awesome, wonderful boy.
Elise should maybe feel guilty that she skipped a Nowhere Girls meeting to hang out with Benjamin Chu, that she kept it secret. She should feel guilty about her priorities being skewed, about caring more about a boy than solidarity with her friends and the cause, how instead of joining everyone at that creepy old house on Saturday, she played video games with Benjamin in his den, how it was kind of hot and he kept apologizing for the thermostat being busted, how their glasses of lemonade were sweaty, how his upper lip was sweaty, how Elise was so distracted by wanting to taste the sweat on his lip that she kept dying in the video game in embarrassingly lame ways, how he teased her for it in a way that made her feel magnificent, how he looked in her eyes for so long he died too, how she barely registered the tiny voice in her head crying, “What about the strike?” as she leaned over and pressed her lips to his, how when they finally separated, he could barely open his eyes, how he mumbled through his dopey grin, “The strike is over?” and she said, “Don’t tell anyone,” and he said, “I can wait,” and she said, “No way,” and he said, “Are you sure?” and as she kissed him again, her body said I’m sure I’m sure I’m sure I’m sure.
Elise lies on her bed, remembering the salty-sweet lemonade taste of Benjamin Chu’s lips. She thinks maybe she should be a little sorry, but mostly she thinks not. Because maybe the Nowhere Girls would be happy for her. Because maybe sometimes saying yes is just as important as saying no.
ERIN.
Erin doesn’t know exactly what happened last night at the police station while she was at home with Otis, but clearly it was bad, and clearly the news spread to people who had no business knowing it. The three girls who came forward as being on Spencer’s list all had their lockers vandalized by the time they got to school. Someone stuck a bumper sticker on Lisa Sutter’s locker that said DUCT TAPE: TURNING “NO NO NO” INTO “MMM MMM MMM” SINCE 1942.
Principal Slatterly is on a rampage. Four new rent-a-cops have been hired to patrol the halls and lunchroom. Rumor is at least eight girls have received detentions or gotten suspended today so far, and it’s only fourth period. Because of some list Slattery got from Delaney of who showed up at the station last night, she knows just who to target, and she certainly knows how to come up with bogus reasons.
Erin knows she should feel bad for them. She should regret not being there last night. Those would be the right things to feel. But she is too busy feeling something completely different.
And now, on her way to class, she has reason to feel that different feeling even more. There, at the other end of the hall, is Otis Goldberg getting something out of his locker. Something inside her jumps. It feels reptilian—a darting snake, a lizard flicking its tail. Before she even has a chance to think, Erin has what feels strangely like the beginning of a panic attack but also the opposite of a panic attack, which leads to the thought that maybe she would like to say “Hi, Otis” out loud, which would catch his attention, which would make him smile, which would cause him to walk toward Erin and talk to her, which would make Erin feel even happier because, Erin now suddenly realizes, as clear and unclouded as a perfect geometric proof, she likes him. She likes Otis Goldberg. She likes Otis Goldberg in a way that is different from and bigger than how she likes Rosina and Grace. She likes Otis Goldberg as something more than a friend.