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Authors: Janet Gurtler

I'm Not Her (15 page)

BOOK: I'm Not Her
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I look at my feet, unable to answer.

“What about your boyfriend?”

This gets my attention and I look up. “My boyfriend?”

“That guy who’s attached to your side, the tall kid with the glasses. He glares at everyone who looks at you.”

“Superman?”A giggle escapes my mouth and I cover it with my hand.

Nick raises his brows in question.

“Clark Trent, I mean. He’s not my boyfriend. He’s just a friend.”

“You sure he knows that?”

Nick stares down at me with an intense look in his blue eyes. I lean forward, trying to give him the hint it’s okay to kiss again, but he steps back and runs his hand through his hair. Killer walks around and sits by his feet and begins panting. Loudly.

“Man, Tess. I can’t do this to you. You don’t know me. I mean, I’m not a good guy when it comes to girls.”

Boy fail. I blink quickly and my back straightens. He doesn’t like me. Before I can stop it, another tear slips out and slides down my cheek. I let it fall without even bothering to wipe it away. I feel like such an incredible idiot and a horrible loser.

“Don’t cry.” He shuffles from one foot to the next and his expression says he would rather be sitting in a dentist’s chair than dealing with me. “You’re a nice kid. You’ve got a tough deal with your sister. I know what it’s like to look for someone to fill up the hole inside you. But I’m not that person. Trust me.”

His eyes plead for understanding but I turn to leave. Killer pokes her nose right in my butt and I squeal. Humiliated and insulted, I flap my hand at her head and she moves back to Nick’s side.

I’m not just a kid, running away from my sister’s cancer. That’s just the way he sees me. He grabs my hand and gently spins me around so I face him again, and he doesn’t let go.

“You want the truth, Tess? I like you. I do. Probably more than I should. But listen. For one, I don’t do relationships. I’m not that kind of guy. And second, I don’t want to get involved in someone’s life. I have enough problems of my own.”

A shock of anger runs through me and my jaws clench. I jerk my hand away. He thinks I’m a bundle of problems? It insults me to the core. Like I’m damaged goods. Not good enough for anyone with my flaws and baggage.

He tries to take my hand again, but I slide it behind my back and move away.

“You can do better than me. You’re brilliant and beautiful,” he says.

“I’m not beautiful,” I say bitterly, not wanting excuses and lies. His words echo. He doesn’t need my problems. No one will want me with my problems.

“You don’t even see it, Tess. I mean it.”

I break away and start to walk as fast as I can, wishing I’d never made the mistake of thinking he was my friend. More.

I want to die. I’m such an idiot. Killer barks and then, with his much longer legs, Nick catches up and is at my side in seconds.

“You have something your sister doesn’t even have, Tess. No offense, you know, with everything that’s happening to Kristina. She was beautiful…”

My jaw snaps and my mouth opens and I stop, freezing in place.

“I mean,
she is
beautiful.”

I shake my head, insulted now on Kristina’s behalf as well as my own.

“You’ve got something special. You’re not the typical girl. I mean, you look great, but it’s not all you care about. You’ve also got a kicking brain to keep a guy on his toes. And the fact that you’re an artist too. Well, that just rocks.”

It’s flattering and insulting. And I may suck at physical activities, but he’s not exactly an athlete either and my chances of outrunning him are pretty good. It hits me that I’d be faster than Kristina now. For the first time in my life, I’m the sporty sister.

I think about bolting and doubling back later for my bike, but chances are, in this neighborhood, it would get stolen. Even if it is hot pink. Considering it’s my only form of transportation, I don’t really want that to happen. I walk faster.

“Find a guy your own age,” he says. “Someone you have more in common with.”

I snort as a car whizzes past us, windows open, rock music blasting. “Jailbait!” the teenager in the passenger seat yells out the window as they speed down the street.

I can’t decide if I should laugh or cry.

Nick laughs. “See?”

I give him the finger.

“You think I’m kidding? Okay. So what’d you think of my house?” He spits it out, trying to sound nonchalant, but there’s bitterness tainting his voice. “You think your old man wants to shoot a couple of rounds of golf with my old man?”

My pace slows. “I don’t care about your house, Nick.” But uneasiness slinks around my insides. This neighborhood is nothing like the one I live in. And I don’t know what to say about the man who was bellowing from his house. His dad.

“No? Well, I do. I care that I live in an ass shithole and my old man is a drunk. He’s mean. I think my sister was fine until he smacked her around when I wasn’t home to protect her.”

I wince at his acidic voice. He marches on, his legs stiff like a soldier.

“And I’m a jerk, because I still leave her alone with him. That’s what you get with me. A jerk. I learned from the best.”

We walk past another old house, where a couple is yelling at each other. The windows are open and we hear loud, drunk-sounding voices. Nick grins. “Like my neighbors?”

I speed up, not wanting to hear the argument.

“So, speaking of sisters,” he says, his voice still black and twisty. “How’s yours?”

“I don’t want to talk about her,” I say, and press my lips tight, watching another car whizz past. At least this time no one shouts insults.

“No? Well, she’s got it bad for sure, but at least your parents can afford to get her the best care. I’m sure she’ll beat the cancer thing.”

I stare at him, blown away by his insensitivity. “Do you have any idea what’s happening?” I ask. But of course he doesn’t. “She’s going to lose her leg. They’re chopping it off. It doesn’t matter who her doctor is. How can that possibly be okay? How is she supposed to cope with that?”

Nick’s eyes open wider. We eyeball each other and then he drops his gaze first. “Are you serious?”

When I don’t answer, he swears softly under his breath. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t realize. I mean, I guess I assumed that she would be okay.”

“Why? Because we’re rich? You think that guarantees anything? It doesn’t.”

He nods once. “I guess, right? I never thought of it before. It just seems like things would be so much easier.”

Killer pokes my hand with her snout and I pet her scraggly head. “It’s not. Things are not okay. My best friend hates me and the first boy I ever kissed did it because he pitied me.” My cheeks warm as soon as I realize what I said.

“Me?” Nick asks and glances sideways at me.

I don’t answer.

“I didn’t kiss you because I pity you,” he says.

Killer barks. She wants us to start moving again. Some of my anger melts. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter.” Before he can fumble around trying to make me feel better, I blurt out, “My mom was drunk when I got home from school.” I bite my lip. “She told me she wishes I was the one losing my leg. Not Kristina.”

Nick blows air through his teeth, but there’s no harmony. He looks down at me but keeps moving. “She really said that?”

I nod, struggling to keep my emotions inside.

“She drink a lot?” he asks.

“I’ve never seen her drunk before.”

He laughs, but it’s bitter. “Lucky you. I hardly know what it’s like to see my dad not drunk. Or hungover.” He runs both hands through his hair. “I’m sorry. That’s messed up. I’m sure she didn’t mean it.”

I lift a shoulder. “Kristina had volleyball. My mom thought she was going to go far with it. I’m not the one who uses my legs.”

“That’s crap, Tess.” He gets a weird look on his face, then lunges forward and pulls me into a tight hug. My arms hang stiff, pointing down at my side, but he keeps squeezing hard. It’s not in the least romantic. Finally he lets me go. “Drunk people suck,” he says as he steps back.

Killer barks at a squirrel, but it sounds like she’s agreeing with us. We both laugh as we head toward his house. He picks up my bike and holds it for me. My hand brushes his as I grab it and he pulls away, as if touching me is grotesque or something. He’s a weird boy. No wonder I’m crushing on him.

I jump on the bike and start pedaling without saying good-bye. The closer to home, the farther and more surreal my encounter with Nick feels. My first kiss. It was awesome, but it was also…not.

I drag my bike inside the garage and close the door, dreading seeing my mom. When I get inside she’s nowhere around, so I check her bedroom and see a big lump under the bedspread. I go forward and poke to make sure she’s passed out and sleeping and not dead.

When dinnertime comes, Dad isn’t home. I fix myself a peanut butter and banana sandwich and have three glasses of milk and watch the Discovery Channel. When I finally head to bed, Dad is still not home from work.

In the morning, when I’m dressed and go to the kitchen, Mom is already there making freshly squeezed orange juice. She’s wearing yoga pants and a tank top and her hair is pulled high in a ponytail. She’s got on her full makeup.

“Morning, Tess,” she says in a normal tone, but she doesn’t look me in the eye. “Have some of your Cap’n Crunch if you want. I didn’t make a hot breakfast.”

She turns her back to me, wiping down the counter and putting away things. I bite my lip, wondering how to bring last night up. She ignores me, so I get the box of Cap’n Crunch and finish off the last of it while she unloads the dishwasher.

Dad rushes into the kitchen, briefcase in hand. He pecks my mom on the cheek and winks at me. “How’s it going, Tess?”

“Fine, Dad. Great. Couldn’t be better,” I say with as much sarcasm as I can. I want to jump up and down, wave my hands in front of his face, see if he even notices.

“Good. Gotta go.” He kisses Mom again and mumbles something to her about Kristina, and then rushes out the door as fast as he swirled in.

Mom stands at the counter watching him go, her back to me, completely still. She stays like that for a moment, and then begins wiping down the counter like it’s the most important thing in the world.

“Will you come to the hospital after school?” she says. “Kristina’s going to need us.” Her voice is tight and quivery, as if she’s holding in tears. She doesn’t stop scrubbing.

Despite everything, my heart swells for her. “Of course.”

“Take a cab,” she says. “I’m sure your father is working late again tonight.”

“Yeah, I’m sure he is.”

She hurries out of the kitchen, and I watch her leave with a heavy heart.

I go to the living room and log on to the computer. There are postings all over my wall on Facebook.

“Tell Tee we love her.”

“Get well, Tee.”

“Your sister rocks.”

I have new friend requests and every single one of them has a note asking about my sister. My fingers pause on the keyboard. I’m tempted to type in the news. Tell the school the horrible truth. My sister is going to lose her leg. It will be big news for a while but I wonder how long it will be before they forget her.

***

My first class is English and when I walk in as the bell rings, Clark raises his eyebrows. My cheeks warm and I quickly look away. My body feels beat-up and bruised. It’s an effort to breathe. Mr. Pepson assigns some chapters to read from our textbook and then calls me to the front of the class.

“I’m sorry about the Honor Society, Tess,” he tells me in a low solemn voice when I sit in the chair opposite his.

I have to keep myself from rolling my eyes. As if it matters now. I lift a shoulder and glance back at the class. Clark is watching me, and doesn’t make an effort to pretend he’s not. I turn back to Mr. Pepson.

“You’re an excellent student with enormous potential. I know that your sister…is…well, having a tough time right now. I would have liked to make exceptions but…we have standards, I suppose. The others voted that we couldn’t accept excuses for letting performance slip.”

“Really?” I say. “They couldn’t?” I stand up. “Well, they’re kind of assholes then. Don’t you think?”

I turn and go back to my seat. Mr. Pepson does not call me back or reprimand me. I wouldn’t care if he did. I think he knows it.

***

Clark appears at my side as soon as the bell rings.

“You okay?” he asks. “You look really upset.”

I struggle to keep myself together. “No, I’m fine.” If you don’t count having my mother tell me she wishes I were the one with cancer and throwing myself at the high school man-slut.

“You sure?” he asks.

I can’t do it. I can’t do it today. I bite my lip and nod. He takes the hint and doesn’t say another word, but stays by my side as we navigate the hallway to our next class. My insides are mashing with guilt, as if he somehow must know I kissed Nick. It feels like I betrayed him in some way, which is stupid, but I can’t shake it.

“Tess! Tess!” A voice screams over the noise.

Gee comes running for me. She smiles at Clark, used to him being a permanent fixture at my side. “Seriously. I haven’t talked to her in ages. She just disappeared. She didn’t even call or anything after we sent the flowers. Is she okay? I mean. Well, you know what I mean.”

My lip quivers.

“I miss her. My mom says I should just try popping over. Force her to see me. Devon wants to come with me. A surprise attack! My mom says she needs us.” Her lips turn up hopefully. “She’s got to know we still love her. No matter what.”

“No!” I shout. “Don’t do that.”

She frowns and steps back. “She really doesn’t want to see me? I mean, we were best friends.” She makes a face. “We are best friends.”

“She’s going through a lot, Gee. She’s not herself.” Bubbles float up my lungs and I can’t swallow them down. I’m afraid I will drown.

I put my hand over my mouth. “She’s going through a lot of changes,” I mumble.

Clark puts a hand on my arm. And then Gee surprises me by rushing forward to hug me tight. She squeezes hard and, in a fit of weakness, I squeeze back and close my eyes.

When I open them, Melissa is stopped in the hallway, glaring at me. As if I’m betraying her. Gee spots her and pulls me tighter.

BOOK: I'm Not Her
7.39Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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