The Best Friend (16 page)

Read The Best Friend Online

Authors: Melody Carlson

Tags: #JUV033200, #JUV033220, #JUV033240, #Best friends—Fiction, #Friendship—Fiction, #High schools—Fiction, #Schools—Fiction, #Christian life—Fiction

BOOK: The Best Friend
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She opened the fridge, distracting him by choosing sodas and making small talk about how soon Christmas would be here and how she hadn't had a chance to get her parents any gifts yet. “Cheerleading has taken up so much of my time,” she chattered on. “I can't believe how much work it's been to catch up with the rest of the squad. And then there are regionals right after New Year's, and there's going to be all kinds of practice before—”

“Lishia,” Mom called. “A friend's here to see you.”

“I'm in the kitchen,” Lishia called back.

“Maybe that's Riley.” Brandon smiled like this would be a good thing.

“Gillian,” Lishia tried to act natural.

“What are you doing here?” Brandon frowned.

“We stopped by to talk,” Gillian coolly told him.

“I'm Sandra Anthony.” The woman behind Gillian handed a business card to Brandon. “Gillian's attorney.”

“Huh?” Brandon gave Lishia a worried glance.

“We just want to chat with you.” Lishia gestured toward the breakfast nook. “Let's all sit down.”

Almost as if they were rounding him up, the three females escorted a surprised-looking Brandon over to the table, cornering him on the closed-in banquette seat with Lishia beside him and Gillian across.

Sandra immediately began with Gillian's blood test results, explaining what GHB was and speculating on how Gillian had it in her system. “Which brings us to Lishia.” She nodded to Lishia now, indicating it was her turn to speak.

“Yes, as you know, Brandon, a very similar incident happened with me. You were the one who got me my drink at Vanessa's parents' house. And I suspect if we asked around, there are others who know that you got my drink, and—”

“What are you trying to do?” Brandon looked trapped now. “Should I be calling a lawyer?”

“I would advise you to seek legal counsel,” Sandra soberly told him. “Unless you want to cooperate with us and completely disclose your story in an affidavit. In that case, Gillian might reconsider pressing charges.” She glanced at Lishia now. “I can't speak for your other alleged victim. However, giving girls what is commonly known as a date rape drug is a serious offense, Mr. Procter, and I doubt that the DA will take these accusations lightly.”

Brandon's freckled face was reddening, and Lishia wondered if he was about to start crying. “It was Riley's idea,” he told them. “She gave me the stuff. She never told me it was a date rape drug. She just said it would loosen the person up. She wanted Gillian to loosen up so she'd end up doing something stupid. But all I did was put some in her drink. I never planned to rape her.” He looked at Gillian with scared eyes. “Honest.”

Gillian scowled. “What you did got me into a lot of trouble, Brandon.”

“I'm sorry.”

“And what about Lishia?” Gillian pressed him.

“It was Riley's idea too.”

“Riley was behind that too?” Lishia was shocked. “Why?”

“She said she wanted you to loosen up and have a good time at the party. We didn't know you were going to go nuts on us.”

“That stuff made me sick,” Lishia told him. “So sick my friends almost took me to the hospital.”

“Do you realize how serious this is?” Sandra asked him. “If these girls press charges, you will be in—”

“I'm really, really sorry.” Now Brandon actually did start crying. “But, honestly, it was Riley's idea. She made it seem like a big joke—” A choked sob escaped. “Like no big deal. You guys were supposed to be her friends, right? Friends do crazy stuff like that. For laughs, you know.” He wiped his nose on his sleeve. “I'm sorry. Really, I am.”

“Are you willing to come with me to make a statement?” Sandra asked.

“Will it get me into more trouble?”

“It might keep you from getting into as much trouble,” she said gently. “If you like, you can call your parents or a lawyer.”

“Do I need a lawyer?”

She stood. “You might.”

It wasn't long until they were all gone. Lishia couldn't believe it had been that easy to get Brandon to confess. But maybe he, like her, was sick of the lies and the games . . . maybe he was tired of being one of Riley's pawns. Thinking of Riley only reminded her that she had been ignoring her calls and texts. The last person she wanted to talk to was Riley. Yet she knew it was inevitable.

nineteen

L
ishia knew that before she talked to Riley, she needed to come clean with Gillian. It seemed only fair—plus it gave her a good excuse to ignore Riley's numerous text messages, which were growing increasingly obnoxious. However, her palms got sweaty as she punched in Gillian's cell phone number on Monday evening. And then, before she could explain anything, Gillian began gushing about how awesome it was that Lishia had helped to get Brandon to confess.

“He made a complete statement to Sandra once we got to her office,” she said happily. “I can't believe how great you were today, Lishia. Seriously, you are the best friend ever! This is really going to help my case.”

“I'm glad,” Lishia said in a quiet voice.

“You don't sound glad. Are you okay?”

“I, uh, I have something I need to tell you, Gillian. But I wonder if I should tell you in person.” Lishia didn't really want to have a face-to-face conversation, but she'd heard somewhere, maybe in church, that that was the right way to clear things up with a person you'd offended.

“What is it?”

“Do you really want me to tell you over the phone?” Although it was appealing, she knew it was the coward's way out.

“Well, you've got me dying of curiosity now, Lishia. So, yeah, just tell me.”

“I wanted to tell you this on Friday, but I was hoping to, uh, deal with some other things first.” Lishia bumbled along for a bit, stumbling over her words until she realized she was sounding more and more idiotic.

“What are you trying to say?” Gillian finally demanded.

Lishia poured out the whole ugly story, cringing all over again to hear what a stupid fool she'd been to trust someone like Riley and at the same time wishing for the day when she could put all this behind her. How many more times would she have to repeat this embarrassing tale?

“You've got to be kidding!” Gillian's voice was a mix of disbelief and anger.

“I wish I was kidding, Gillian. But I really am sorry. Really, really sorry.”

“Sorry . . . yeah . . . right.” Gillian's voice had a flat sound to it now. Lishia could tell she was hurt—she probably felt like Lishia had pulled the rug out from under her.

“Honestly, Gillian, I'd do anything to turn back the clock and make it so all this never happened. I know you so much better now and I never—” She heard a loud click, the sound of a phone being snapped shut. “Gillian?” she said meekly. No answer. Of course, Gillian had hung up on her. And why shouldn't she?

Lishia closed her own phone, then sat down on her bed and wondered what, if anything, she could do to soften this thing with Gillian. Was there anything more she could do to take some of the sting away? She really liked Gillian now—and knowing that she'd hurt her so badly made Lishia feel sick inside. When would this mess end?

Lishia went to her closet and looked at the cheerleader clothing hanging neatly together. Of course—she would return all of Gillian's stuff! Never mind that Mom and Lishia had paid for it; it was obvious that Lishia wouldn't need it anymore. In fact, it would be a relief to be rid of it. So she got some bags and neatly folded everything to fill three bags. While it was mostly a relief, she also felt some sadness as she realized that her chances of being part of the squad were truly gone. Not only had she blown it . . . it had never been meant to be.

Next she sat down and wrote Gillian an apology letter. She took her time and went into more detail, explaining how she'd been pulled into the whole scheme, how she had wanted to stop it when she realized that Riley had tampered with the votes, and how she'd eventually succumbed to what was essentially blackmail. But finally she admitted that she really couldn't blame Riley for everything since Lishia had made her own choices. Still, she said one last time, she was sorry. Very, very sorry. She put the three-page letter in an envelope and tucked it inside one of the bags. Gillian would probably just tear it up—like she'd probably tear into Lishia if she ever got the opportunity.

Finally, Lishia explained to Mom what she'd done and asked her to drive her to Gillian's house. With a pounding heart, Lishia rang Gillian's doorbell, and when Gillian's mother answered, Lishia quickly apologized to her and handed over the bags. Mrs. Rodowski looked slightly bewildered, but Lishia didn't have the words to explain any further, so she simply turned and hurried back to the car. Neither she nor Mom said a single word on the trip back home. It seemed that all the words had already been said. And really, Lishia was sick of words.

To Lishia's relief, Riley left town with her family the next day. According to Riley's latest message, which sounded slightly friendlier than the previous ones, the Atkins family would be staying at a fancy ski resort in Montana. “My dad surprised us with this,” Riley explained. “We'll be there until New Year's Day. If you and I had been getting along better, I might've asked you to come along. Anyway, Dad says that cell phone service is pretty sketchy there, so I probably won't talk to you until we get home.”

Relief rushed through Lishia. She was so thankful for this little reprieve. She sent a simple text message wishing Riley a good Christmas and promising to talk more when Riley got back. But mostly she was glad that Riley was gone. Lishia wasn't ready to sort this out with her yet. She felt emotionally spent now, in need of some peace and quiet.

For the next few days, Lishia was perfectly content to hang at home. She was happy to spend time with her family and help Mom in preparation for Christmas. Oh, she wasn't looking forward to explaining her recent dilemma to her relatives on Christmas Day. But she was ready to get it behind her. At least she would have the support of her parents. That was worth a lot.

Lishia had also been surprised by how supportive Megan had been these past few days. She called to check on Lishia two to three times a day. She even invited her to go ice-skating with some friends on the day before Christmas. At first Lishia said no, she needed to stay home and help with wrapping gifts, but Mom put her foot down, insisting Lishia should go. Once she was there, Lishia couldn't believe how much fun it was to do such an ordinary activity or how great it was being with her old friends. It was almost like they were kids again—and that felt good. Plus it gave Lishia hope. Maybe there really was life after Riley.

On Christmas Day, shortly before they were to sit down at Grandma Willis's big dining table, Lishia stood in front of her extended family and made her embarrassing confession. She'd hoped it might be easier by now, but it was even harder than when she'd done it at youth group. These people had known and supported her for her whole life. They'd believed in her, hoped the best for her, even contributed to her purchasing the uniform.

After she finished, everyone remained really quiet, and it was obvious that some of them were totally shocked, but then Uncle Roy grinned and slapped his thigh and said, “Well, good golly, Lishia, at least you're not pregnant!” He winked at Dad. “That's what I thought she was about to say.” Of course, everyone laughed and lightened up. And Lishia felt a tiny bit better.

However, as they ate dinner, she still sensed that some of her relatives were deeply disappointed in her—though probably not as much as she had been disappointed in herself. But fortunately, by the end of the day, when they were all sitting around playing board games and just being goofy, she could tell that they still loved her, and once again she felt extremely thankful for family.

Despite Riley's concerns about “lack of service” at the resort, Lishia had received a couple of chirpy text messages from her. Apparently if they went to a nearby town, her phone would work. Anyway, it sounded like she was having a fantastic time, getting really good at snowboarding, and completely oblivious to Lishia's recent confession to Mrs. Glassman. That was a relief.

Lishia considered giving Riley a little heads up about the whole thing but decided against it. Why ruin Riley's family vacation? Riley's life would fall apart soon enough. At least that's what Lishia assumed. There was always the off chance that Mrs. Glassman would choose to handle this in a different way. Lishia had no idea how she would react if that happened. How would she feel if Riley came out of this mess unscathed? Sometimes Lishia had suspected that Riley had some kind of Teflon coating, slipping through the stickiest situations while others tripped up and fell on their faces. What if Riley slipped through this one too?

Finally Lishia realized that instead of obsessing over the possibility that Riley's life would continue as usual, she should just keep praying. And because she didn't know exactly how to pray—for Riley—she turned her prayer into a short one. Whenever she thought of Riley, she simply prayed,
God's will be done in Riley's life.
It was the only prayer she could manage that didn't make her feel like throwing something. And it was genuine. She did want God's will for Riley.

A couple days after Christmas, Lishia went to the next scheduled cheerleading practice. Not to practice, since that was ridiculous, but to apologize to the other girls and explain why she was off the squad. Practice was supposed to be in the gym, which was opened due to the guys' basketball practice. However, Lishia was surprised to see that Mrs. Glassman was not present. Even more surprising was that the other girls were completely in the dark as to what had happened with Lishia. She'd barely begun her apology when they started questioning her.

“What do you mean you're not practicing today?” Vanessa demanded to know. “We have work to do!”

“I already told you, I'm off the squad,” Lishia repeated. “I came by to say I'm sorry and explain that—”

“But we need you,” Amanda insisted. “You know we're getting ready for regionals right now. It's bad enough that Riley's gone for all of Christmas break. But how can we practice without you too?”

“You'll have to figure it out,” Lishia told her. “And really, I'm sorry. I never meant for—”

“So what exactly happened?” Krista asked. “Why are you off?”

Lishia had been determined not to tell the entire story (it didn't seem right to tell the part about Riley's involvement) but to simply take the blame for her own mistakes. “I was trying to explain. I've been suspended—”

“Why?” Amanda asked.

“Is it because of what happened at my parents' party?” Vanessa's eyes got wide, like she was worried now. “Because it's not like I told Glassman anything. No one did.”

“To be honest, it's partly because of that,” Lishia admitted.

“But that's not fair.” Amanda glanced at Vanessa. “There were other girls at your party too—including you. And no one else was suspended.”

“How long are you suspended for?” Krista asked.

“I'm off,” Lishia said slowly. “For good.”

“But what about—”

“I'm really sorry,” Lishia said again. She had wanted to do this without tears, but they were threatening to come. Still, she didn't want to break down in front of everyone. “Honestly, if there was any way to keep this from happening, I would. But it's over, okay? I just wanted to tell you guys in person—and to say that I'm truly sorry and I hope everything turns out okay.” She tried to step away, but they continued to press around her.

Everyone continued talking at once. Some of the girls sounded confused, worried over their own cheerleader status. Others, like Amanda and Krista, sounded outraged, and justly so. But Lishia could tell there was no use trying to explain anymore. Besides, the tears had escaped and she felt even more embarrassed. She hadn't expected this to be so hard, but it wasn't easy letting others down.

“I'm sorry,” she said one last time. Then she turned and ran out of the gym, out the door, and to the street where Mom's car was still waiting.

“Was that pretty hard?” Mom asked.

Lishia nodded as she sniffed noisily.

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