The Newcomer (Thunder Point #2)(33)

“Just ask your dad, okay? That’s all. He’s probably going to say it’s just one of those ugly things, but ask, anyway, okay?”

“I’ll ask. But don’t get your hopes up. I’ve seen this stuff happen before. Really mean stuff. And no one ever does anything.”

“I know,” he said. Because Landon had seen it before, too. If he’d done something like that and the school called his sister, she’d tie him up and work him over with a baseball bat. Sarah didn’t stand for that kind of nasty stuff. “You doing okay, baby?”

“Oh, you know. I’m a little shook up, can’t decide if I’m going to throw things at my mother or hug her.”

“What’s in between?” he asked her.

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out. A little coffee talk? ‘So, how’ve you been? What kind of interesting things have you been up to for ten years while I was growing up?’”

He laughed in spite of himself. “Have I told you lately how awesome you are?”

“You can tell me again if you want,” she said. “Listen, would you do something for me? I’m kind of caught up in the mother drama here—everyone in the family is all upside down. Will you help me try to take care of Ash? Because this has got to be like the worst thing that’s ever happened to her and I don’t know what to do.”

“I’ll check on her,” he said. “She asked me to call Downy so maybe she’ll take my call. I just don’t want to tell her what he said. I’ll tell her about your mom, tell her you’re worried about her.”

“Thanks. Landon, you’re awesome, too. And I always loved Downy...I never would’ve believed he’d let something like this happen.”

“Me, either. I don’t know what he’s smokin’.”

* * *

Gina thought it was reasonable to allow Ashley to stay home from school the day after the sexting incident, but it was difficult to bear. It was as if they were back at square one, if not worse. She’d slept or sobbed on and off all day. Gina went home from the diner several times during the day to check on her and found no improvement.

So Gina took Ashley’s phone, turned it off and slipped it into her apron pocket. This was a very bad time for her daughter to be making or taking calls. She could hardly blame her—it was tempting even to Gina to check the phone for inbound calls. But she resisted.

She had not confiscated the laptop. When she got home from work that day she asked Ashley if the Facebook debacle had been dealt with.

“The picture was taken down,” she said morosely. “But there’s lots of talk—people arguing back and forth about whether it was faked by a mean girl or the real deal...my desperate attempt to lure Downy back. I threw up four times today.”

Gina sat down on the edge of the bed. “We have to pull it together, Ash. The sooner you face it, the sooner it will fade away.”

“You’re kidding, right? I’m never facing this. Never! It’s just too cruel!”

Gina gave her a second day to sulk and work it like a hangnail because the following day was her group therapy. Gina had high hopes for that group. Before leaving Ashley in bed, she returned the phone. When she got home to check on her, she found the phone on the kitchen table, shattered to bits. Beside the wreckage was a hammer.

In a panic, Gina ran to Ashley’s bedroom. “What happened?” she asked. With a hand on her shoulder, she rolled her daughter onto her back. “Ashley, what happened?”

“I turned it on,” she said on a sob. “There were so many messages, the mailbox was full. I listened to about four and they were mean. ‘You’re a slut, Ashley! You’ll never get him back, Ashley—not even with your pathetic tits!’ There was even a guy—I don’t know who—who called me a whore.” She rolled back and sobbed.

“All right, you have to get up,” Gina said. “You’ll share this in your group, get some advice. Kids go through terrible bullying ordeals and survive. Not just survive but get stronger. Look what happened to Landon last fall, getting beat up by the likes of Jag Morrison! You have to stand up to this, Ash!”

Ashley rolled back. Her eyes were so red they were nearly crusty. Her whole face was swollen. “If you think I’m ever going anywhere, you’re crazy. I just want to die!”

“No, Ash. You have to fight back!”

“No! There are too many of them!”

“You have Eve, Landon and your friends!”

“I can’t even see them in the crowd!” Ashley whimpered. And then she pulled the covers over her head.

Gina left Ashley’s bedroom because she was beginning to shake. She didn’t know how to pull her girl out of this. She went to the kitchen and wondered who to call. Carrie? The useless Mrs. Downy? Finally, desperate, she got out her phone and dialed up the counselor, where she was forced to leave a message, which she left in low tones. “Mrs. Ross, it’s Gina James and I have a crisis—Ashley has been dealt another terrible blow. Her ex-boyfriend’s new girlfriend used Photoshop to create a na**d picture of Ashley and texted it to the boy’s entire directory and launched it on Facebook. Ashley has been sobbing for over two days, refuses to get out of bed and I found she smashed her phone with a hammer. She says she wants to die. I don’t know what to do. Please help.” And she left her number, which Simone Ross undoubtedly already had.