The Unbecoming of Mara - 27

Fantasy Completed 1177

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Daniel said as he stuffed his keys in his pocket and grabbed his handful of validation. Joseph reappeared holding a Ziploc bag full of ice and handed it to Noah.

“Thanks,” Noah said with a grin. Joseph looked like he won the lottery. “I should go. I’ll see you in a few days?” Noah said to me.

I nodded. “Don’t forget to go to the doctor.”

Noah shot me a look. “Good-bye, Mara,” he said, and strolled off to his car. I narrowed my eyes as I watched him walk away, and closed the door once he was gone.

Daniel’s arms were crossed when I turned inside. I peered at him. “What?”

“You need to go to the doctor,” he said, looking at my arm.

I pressed the heels of my palms into my eyes. “Come on, Daniel.”

“Come on yourself. When was the last time you changed the dressings?”

“A few days ago,” I lied.

“Well, Mom said you have an appointment for a checkup. So, either I take you, or she does.”

“Fine,” I groaned and headed out the door. Daniel followed behind me.

“I heard about Jamie, by the way.”

“You know what really happened?” I asked my brother. He nodded. I stared at my feet. “I can’t believe Anna and Aiden did that to him. And they’re going to get away with it.” I felt a stabbing pain in my hands all of a sudden, and looked down. I’d been clenching my fists so that my nails dug into my palms. I tried to relax. “School is going to be misery without him.”

“At least you have Noah.”

I stared straight ahead. “It’s not like I’ve exceeded my friend quota,” I said quietly.

Daniel started the car and pulled out of the driveway. “I’m sorry I said that to you, you know.”

“It’s fine,” I said, looking out the window.

“How are you doing otherwise?”

“Okay.”

“When’s your next therapy appointment?”

I glared at him. “Next Thursday. Did you tell Noah about it?”

“Of course not,” Daniel said. “But I don’t think he’d care.”

I leaned my head back against the seat and turned away. “I’d rather he not know the depths of my crazy.”

“Oh, come on. The guy’s been in two fights in as many weeks. He clearly has some issues of his own.”

“And yet, here you are, pimping me out to him.”

“Nobody’s perfect. And I’m not pimping you out. I think he’s good for you. He’s been through a lot too, you know.”

“I know.”

“And I don’t think he really has anyone who he can talk to about it.”

“Sounds like he’s talked to you about it.”

“Not really. Guys don’t really hash things out like girls do. I just know enough—whatever. All I’m saying is that I think he’d get it.”

“Yeah. Nothing like hearing the girl you just started dating is on antipsychotics.”

Daniel took the opportunity to change the subject. “How are those going, anyway? Any side effects?”

“Not that I’ve noticed.”

“Do you think they’re working?”

With the exception of the disturbing phone call. “I think so.”

“Good. So you think you’ll be up for Sophie’s surprise party Friday night? I’m planning a big shebang. Well, not so big. But a shebang nevertheless.”

“I don’t know,” I said, thinking now about the phone call. The threat. Jamie. I wasn’t sure I’d be in a partying mood. “Maybe.”

“What about your birthday? You and Noah have any plans?”

“I didn’t tell him,” I said in a low voice, as I looked out the window at the passing cars. We were almost at the doctor’s office. My stomach clenched at the realization.

“Why not?”

I sighed. “I don’t want to make a big deal of it, Daniel.”

He shook his head as he pulled into the parking lot of the doctor’s office. “You should let him in, Mara.”

“I’ll take it under advisement.” I opened the door to the office and Daniel followed behind me. I signed in on the clipboard and waited until they called my name. It was better than the hospital, but the same smell—that medical smell—made my breath quicken and my throat close. When the nurse took my blood pressure, my pulse thudded against the cuff as it constricted my arm. I gasped for breath and the nurse looked at me like I was crazy. Little did she know.

She led me into a room and pointed to the vinyl bench covered in doctor’s office paper. I sat down, but the rustle and crunch of it annoyed me. The doctor walked in to see me a few minutes later.

“Mara?” she asked, reading her clipboard. Then she met my eyes and extended her hand. “I’m Dr. Everett. How’s that arm?”

“Feels fine,” I said, holding it out for her.

“Have you been changing your dressings every two days?”

Nope. “Mmm-hmm.”

“How’s the pain?”

“I actually haven’t noticed it much,” I said. Her eyebrows lifted. “I’ve been really busy with exams and school stuff,” I said, by way of explanation.

“Distraction can be good medicine. Okay, Mara, let’s have a look.” She unwrapped the gauze from my elbow first, and worked her way down my forearm. Her forehead creased and she pursed her lips as the bandage unraveled further and further, revealing my pale, intact skin. She glanced over at her clipboard. “When did this happen?”

“Two weeks ago.”

“Hmm. The ER doctor must have made a mistake. Probably an intern,” she said to herself.

“What?” I asked, growing nervous.

“Sometimes first-degree burns are mistaken for second-degree, especially on the arms and feet,” she said, turning over my arm and inspecting it. “But even so, the redness usually lasts for quite some time. Any pain when I do this?” she asked as she extended my fingers.

I shook my head. “I don’t understand. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, Mara,” she said, staring at my arm. “It’s completely healed.”

40

nOT HAVING AN ITCHY, SWEAT-COLLECTING bandage under my sleeve was the only bright spot in the next two days. Without Noah, and especially without Jamie, I had even less patience for school, and it showed. I snapped at my History teacher, who I loved, and came very close to punching Anna in the face when she walked past me and banged her bag into my shoulder. She’d gotten my only friend expelled. It would be the least I could do.

I resisted. Barely. But my dire mood followed me home. I just wanted to be alone.

When I walked in the house, I whipped out my sketchbook and went to the family room to draw. Working on the floor was always better for sketching, and my carpeted bedroom was not conducive.

About an hour after I’d started, Daniel peeked his head around the archway. “Hey.”

I looked up from the floor and smiled without feeling.

“Have you thought about going to Sophie’s party tomorrow night?”

I went back to smudging. Self-portraits are tough without a mirror. “Isn’t there some kind of theme?”

“No,” Daniel said.

“Oh.”

“Does that mean you’ll come?”

“No,” I said. “Just wondering.”

“You know Mom and Dad are going out tonight, right?” Daniel asked.

“Yup.”

“And Joseph is coming with me to help get things ready for tomorrow.”

“Yup,” I said, without looking up.

“So what are you going to do?” Daniel asked.

“I am going to sit here. And draw.”

Daniel arched an eyebrow. “You’re sure you’re all right?”

I sighed. “I just prefer my wallowing with a heaping dollop of self-pity, Daniel. I’ll be fine.”

“If it’s your grades, I can talk to Mom for you. Soften the blow.”

“What?” I hadn’t really been listening before, but Daniel sure as hell had my full attention now.

“You haven’t checked your grades?”

My heart started pounding. “They’re up?”

Daniel nodded. “I didn’t know you didn’t know.”

I shot up from the floor, leaving my sketchpad behind, and darted to my bedroom. I dove into my desk chair and swiveled around to look at the monitor. Anxiety skittered through my veins. I’d been confident a few days ago, but now …

As my eyes scanned the screen, I started to relax.

AP English: A

Bio: B+

History: B

Art: A

Spanish: F

Algebra II: B

I did a double take. Then scanned the screen again. F. Falls between D and G on the keyboard. F for first. F for failure. First failure.

I couldn’t catch my breath and dropped my head between my knees. I should have known. God, was I stupid. But in my defense, I had never, ever failed a class before, and those things just don’t seem possible until they actually happen. How was I going to explain this to my parents?

Shamed though I was, I hoped Daniel was still around. I sprinted to the kitchen, my face hot. He’d left me a note on the refrigerator.

Went to set things up.

Call me and I can come back and get you.

I swore under my breath and leaned against the stainless steel, getting fingerprints all over it. And then it hit me.

Jamie.

He recorded my exam. He had proof that I aced it. I withdrew my cell phone from my pocket and pressed the picture Jamie installed for himself on my phone. A ram’s head. Weirdo. I tilted my head toward the ceiling and prayed that he would pick up.

It went straight to voice mail.

“Grounded likely means no phone or computer,” Jamie had said. “But if I encounter an owl, I’ll try to smuggle a message to the outside, okay? “

My eyes filled with tears and I threw my cell phone at the wall, scuffing the paint and smashing the phone. Couldn’t have cared less. There was an F on my transcript. An F.

I put my head in my hands and tugged on my face. Dark thoughts swirled in my brain. I needed to tell someone, to figure out what to do. I needed a friend—I needed my best friend, but she was gone. And Jamie was gone too. But I did have Noah. I walked over to my decimated phone and collected the pieces. I tried to put it back together. No luck. I took the house phone off the cradle and pressed the talk button, but then realized that I didn’t even know his number by heart. I’d only known him for a few weeks, after all.

The tears dried on my face, making my skin stiff. I didn’t finish my sketch. I didn’t do anything. I was too upset, furious with myself for being so stupid but even angrier at Morales. And the more I stewed, the angrier I became.

It was all her fault. I’d never done anything to her when I started at Croyden, and she went out of her way to screw with my life. Maybe I could find out Jamie’s address and get the MP3 from him, but would it help? Did Dr. Kahn even know Spanish? The exam was, as Jamie said, subjective. And even though I knew I nailed that answer, I also knew that Morales would lie.

I stared out the kitchen window at the black sky outside. I would deal with it tomorrow.

41

THE NEXT DAY BEGAN ABNORMALLY. I AWOKE starving at about four in the morning and went to the kitchen to make toast. I withdrew a halfgallon of milk from the refrigerator and poured myself a glass as the machine heated the bread. When the slices popped up, I ate them slowly, turning last night over in my mind. I didn’t notice Joseph until he waved his hand in front of my face.

“Earth to Mara!”

A white drop fell from the triangle lip of the milk container. Joseph’s words were muffled, invading my brain. I wanted to turn off the sound.

“Wake up.”

I jumped, then slapped his hand away. “Leave me alone.”

I heard a second person rummaging around in the kitchen and swiveled my neck around. Daniel withdrew a granola bar from the pantry and took a bite.

“Who peed in your Cheerios?” he asked me, mouth full.

I leaned over the table and put my throbbing head in my hands. It was the worst headache I’d had in weeks.

“Is Noah picking you up? His suspension should be over today, right?”

“I don’t know. I guess.”

Daniel looked at his watch. “Well, he’s late. Which means I’m taking you. Which means you have to get dressed. Now.”

I opened my mouth to inform Daniel that we had hours until school started, and to ask him what he was doing up so early, but caught sight of the microwave clock. Seven thirty. I’d been sitting at the kitchen table for hours. Chewing … for hours. I swallowed the cold bread and my panic over losing so much time.

Daniel looked at me out of the corner of his eye. “Come on,” he said softly. “I can’t be late.”

I didn’t see Noah’s car in the parking lot when we arrived at school. Maybe he decided to take an extra day off. I drifted towards the campus, half-conscious. I didn’t see Noah in English, or wandering the halls between classes, either. He was supposed to be there. I wanted to find out where Jamie lived and even though they hated each other, I didn’t know anyone else well enough to ask.

Between classes, I made my way to the administration office to make an appointment with Dr. Kahn, and when the fated hour arrived, I entered his office armed with sound reasoning. I would argue for the grade I deserved. I would tell him about the MP3. I would stay calm. I would not cry.

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