Before The Storm (8 page)

It’s just not the time. It wouldn’t be fair to anyone, especially not him.”

Angelina pats my leg gently. “Now there’s the best friend I know and love.

Always doing the right thing, even if it’s the hardest thing.”

I try to force a half smile but it barely appears on the sides of my mouth. How am I going to do this? How am I going to live with this pain? I feel like my heart is literally breaking in my chest. Like I can literally feel the ache. I’ve spent so many hours thinking about seeing him again, so many days thinking about what it would be like to finally have him back again, to finally tell him about this horrible, awful thing that happened to me. It never occurred to me that circumstances would stop me from telling him, would stop me from at least being able to be honest with him.

What makes matters even worse is knowing that I have to see him in only a few short hours. How am I going to deal with this? Even more, what’s his reaction going to be? Is he even going to have one? Does he still care? Does he miss me? Does he hate me?

Knowing nothing about anything that he feels, or exactly what’s going on with him, is one of the worst feelings in the world.

“Everything I have to figure out is buzzing in and out of my mind every second.”

“One thing at a time, “ Angelina tells me firmly as she pulls herself to her feet.

She then reaches her hand out to me, “Come on.”

I allow myself to reach for her hand and bring myself to my feet. “What are we doing?”

“If you have to go back to school, after supposedly being off with your long lost aunt for months, at least your going to look hot doing it.”

And then she pulls me toward my new closet, Mo slowly creeping behind us with every step.

Chapter Seven

If there was one person in the world who could make anyone look good no matter what the circumstance, Angelina would be that person for sure.

An hour later I’m completely transformed. My hair is perfectly curled in all the right places, so you can barely tell how bad my highlights have grown out over the past few months, my makeup is completely flawless, and Angelina has somehow managed to cover up the bags over my eyes and my white complexion, thanks to some self tanner and a few other tubes of things I’ve never seen or heard of before. My eyes are perfectly shadowed and my eyelashes look long and healthy. A light pink gloss is smeared on my lips and she’s even managed to paint my nails a light blue color that looks perfect against my skin.

I’m dressed in a white skirt, long black cami, and a short sleeved blue shirt that falls just to the middle of my stomach. She somehow has made it so my boobs look bigger than they actually are, and that I have some sort of ass, which I so don’t anymore.

She’s paired all this with a pair of white sandals that have a little bit of a heel. I might fall flat on my face the second I start walking, but hey, at least I’ll look good doing it.

Now,” Angelina says, taking a step back to do a quick once-over of her work,

“who would think you’ve been off in a boot camp for troubled kids looking like this? It’s more like you’ve been off at a photo shoot in the big city!”

“Gee, thanks,” I tell her sarcastically.

She rolls her eyes. “You know what I mean. You look great Tor. Really.”

I smile at her as I look at myself in the mirror for the hundredth time since she finished making me over.

“I know, thanks. You truly are the best, best friend ever.”

She shrugs, trying to sound all modest. “Oh well, you know, I try.”

I playfully push her and she pushes me back, causing me to practically fall over in my heels. I grab on to the end of the dresser to steady myself and she laughs at my failed attempt to keep my balance.

“Well, it’s good to see that some things never change,” she says, hinting at my lack of balancing skills.

“Ha-ha, very funny.”

And I suddenly realize how much I miss this, just doing stupid random things with her, things I couldn’t do with anyone else.

“Now,” Angelina says, looking at all the makeup and hair products that she spread out over the counter, “if you’ll excuse me, I have to make myself look beautiful too.”

“Of course, of course,” I tell her, smoothing down the skirt I’m wearing and studying myself again in the mirror. “Not that it matters since Dustin likes you no matter what you look like. How is he by the way?”

Angelina drops the hairbrush she just picked up and gets really quiet all of a sudden.

“Ang?” I press her, turning away from the mirror to look at her.

“He broke up with me a month ago.”

I instantly feel completely and totally awful. I was so busy worrying about myself and all my problems that I never even bothered to ask how she and Dustin are doing. Or how she is in general, for that matter. What kind of friend am I?

“What! Why? What happened?”

She shakes her head and half shrugs, “I don’t know. He just didn’t feel it anymore, I guess.”

Wow. What a jerk.

“How is that possible? He was so into you.”

Angelina picks up the hairbrush again and starts taking her hair down for what feels like the tenth time since she got here.

“Who knows? It was hard at first, but I’m getting over it now. Every day is easier.”

Typical Angelina, always strong, never bitter. This is exactly how I wished I could be. I’m about to push for more details when my aunt knocks on the door to my bedroom, pushing it open slightly and peaking her perfectly made-up face inside. She’s wearing a navy blue pantsuit with a white blouse underneath, paired with a pair of white high heels that make her already tiny body look even skinner.

“Wow,” she says when she sees me, “you look great.”

I smile at her. “Thanks. It’s only because of Angelina. I have no idea what I’m doing when it comes to this stuff.” I wave my hands up and down my body as if she should know what “this stuff” means.

My aunt laughs. “Well, I’m glad you have her then. But we have to start heading to the school. I told your principal we would go in a little bit early to go over a few things, and it’s already past seven. Angelina’s welcome to stay and finish getting ready though. I’ll have a car wait downstairs to take her over to the school when she’s ready.”

Angelina smiles. “That would be great. Thank you so much.”

My Aunt Jenna smiles and nods before turning her attention back to me, “I’m ready when you are.”

I look at Angelina with an expression that I hope shows how sorry I am. “We’ll talk at school, ok?”

“Of course,” she tells me, still looking at her flawless skin in the mirror.

I hug her quickly and then run to catch up with my aunt who has already started making her way down the hall.

“Oh,” I call over my shoulder, “and be nice to Mo!”

* * *

The principal’s office is exactly the same as I remember it. I mean, I was only technically in here once, but still, it’s exactly how I remember it being that one time.

I wasn’t even supposed to be in here that one time anyway. It was a total misunderstanding. My Spanish teacher was convinced that it was me who had thrown a pencil at the back of her head one day during freshman year, which was just ridiculous. I know her reasoning was because I had just failed a quiz the week before and she had refused to give me extra credit when I asked her about it politely. But still, me throwing a pencil? Everyone knows I’m scared of my own shadow. I kind of wish I had done it since I ended up getting detention for it anyway. This, plus the fact that she was a total bitch.

But that was years ago. No need to dwell on the past! Ha-ha, get it? Since if I were to be dwelling on anything it would be the whole getting shipped off to a mental institution thing.

“Just relax,” my aunt tells me, placing her hand on my knee just as the door to the office swings open and in walks our principal, Mr. Johnson.

“Well, hello Victoria. We haven’t seen you since that pesky pencil incident freshman year, now have we?”

Wow, razor sharp memory this one has. But he is smiling when he says it, which makes me relax a little.

“I’m kidding!” he announces happily.

Well at least someone is in good spirits around here. I force a smile up at him.

“So,” he says, tossing my file down on his desk and taking a seat, “it’s good to have you back! This is a very important time of year. There are a lot of tests coming up, as well as SAT prep.”

Then he pauses and looks at me with an expression of panic for a second. “You are planning on taking the SATs, aren’t you?”

“Of course!” I don’t miss a beat.

In general, teachers and principals hate when you say things like you don’t want to take the SATs. They think you’re purposely throwing away your future. The truth is, of course, that I haven’t even thought about the SATs until this very moment. Some of us have bigger problems on our hands, clearly.

Relief passes over Mr. Johnson’s face. “Well, I think you’ll be fine. Same schedule, same classes. I’ve talked to your teachers and explained you have had some setbacks in your personal life, and they’re very willing to work with you on making up what you missed so you can proceed with no penalty for the year.”

“Thank you,” I tell him politely.

I’m not sure if he likes my response or not because suddenly his voice has a little bit of warning in it. “Of course, it won’t be easy. It’s going to take hard work to get back on track. You…um…you have that in you, don’t you?”

Jeez, what does this guy think? I was shipped off for being a psycho or something? It’s hard to respond to his question without really knowing what he’s been told. I look to my aunt for help and she jumps in right away.

“Victoria is very committed to all aspects of her recovery process.”

Yikes, that made it sound like I had an addiction or something. Nathan is definitely not an addiction. At least I don’t think he is. La la la.

This is good enough for Mr. Johnson. “Wonderful! Alright then, no use wasting any more time in here. Your life is waiting for you just outside these doors!”

Oh wow, who knew inspiration was waiting right inside our principal’s office all these years. I jump to my feet quickly, before I have the opportunity to feel any more uncomfortable than I already do. My aunt follows my lead.

“If either of you have any questions or concerns please feel free to come to me at any time,” he calls out after us.

And the weird thing is, I somehow believe him. I believe if I really do need him for some reason, he’ll hear me out. Once we get outside his office and into the hall the butterflies in my stomach start to turn into bricks. Why am I so nervous suddenly? I’ve walked down this hallway a hundred times at least, but for some reason today is different.

Kids are already starting to make their way inside the big doors at the front of the school. The hallways are full of students milling about and people are busy chatting before going into their homerooms.

“You okay?” My Aunt asks, following my gaze down the hallway. “You want me to go with you?”

Part of me wants to say yes, wants to tell her to stay with me all day long, but the stronger part of me is telling me to keep myself together.

“No, this is something I need to do on my own.”

She nods. “Well, good luck. Will you be home right after school?”

Of course I will be. I know better than to think I have the same type of freedom I once did. But, instead of saying this, I just nod. She gives my shoulder one last reassuring squeeze and then she’s gone.

I take a deep breath and start to make my way down the hall toward my locker, the same locker I’ve had all year. I took the same path to get there, but every step feels heavy in my hells. Every inch feels like I’m going to trip over my feet and stumble.

If anyone notices that I’m back, they don’t show it. I feel invisible, and the feeling of comfort I receive from that starts to flow back in just like it has so many times before.

Being unnoticed is what I’ve always been. It’s something I’m used to, and I like the feeling of it.

But the feeling is short lived, because as soon as I get to the top of the stairwell I see Nathan about twenty feet away from me. He has one arm around Katie and a stack of books in the other. He also has this huge smile plastered across his face. I feel like I just caught him in the middle of this really funny moment or something.

The second his eyes meet mine, his smile vanishes, his arm drops off of Katie’s shoulder, and the books in his hand fall to the floor, causing the people gathered around him to jump back in confusion and surprise. I do exactly what any girl would do in such a situation, in such a time, I gather up all the strength I have, move it into my legs, turn my gaze away from him, and walk as fast as I can into the girls bathroom.

I quickly shut the door behind me and run into a stall, locking it as tightly as I can.

Then I completely and totally lose it. I start crying. I mean, really crying. And then I take my perfectly curled hair and scrunch it inside of my hands holding it so tightly my knuckles start to hurt. I hold it so tightly it starts to turn my fingers white. I cry so hard that my head instantly starts pounding.

And I stay this way. I stay exactly in this position until I hear the warning bell ring for homeroom, and then again until I hear the final bell ring. And only after I’ve been sitting here for a few minutes, breathing in and out and repeating over and over to myself that I can do this, that I’m going to be okay, do I finally allow myself to walk out of the stall and look at myself in the mirror.

My hair is a mess, and my makeup to match. How could I be stupid enough to think looking good would actually make me feel good? I do my best to repair the damage I’ve done, and when I’m finally satisfied I tiptoe over to the door to the bathroom and pull it open the slightest bit. I peak my head out and glance up and down the hall.

Nothing. It’s like a ghost world. I breathe a sigh of relief and then allow myself to walk across the hallway to my locker.

The combination comes back to me as if the last time I opened the locker was yesterday. Twenty-six, three, forty-two. Boom! Pops open, no problem. All my books are still here, all my notebooks. I reach in and run my fingers over the familiar bindings and allow myself to relax just the slightest bit, to take in the familiar feeling of it all again.

But then without warning, without the slightest glitch of my knowledge, the door to my locker swings closed, almost taking my finger with it. I jump back, startled, and am met with Nathan’s intense gaze. A gaze, that I might add, looks completely and totally pissed.