Torch Red: Color Me Torn with Bonus Content (15 page)

She brightens. “You think this jacket is pretty ugly too?” I nod sheepishly. “I got it at the mission,” she admits. “I didn’t have time to pack when I left home.”

“Did your stepmom really throw you out?” I ask.

“Pretty much.” She uses her finger to wipe the last bit of frosting from her plate.

“Are you still pregnant?”

She looks down. “No, thanks to Planned Parenthood’s charity plan, I am child-free now.”

“Are you okay about that?”

“Yeah, you know what they say . . . it’s a woman’s right to choose.” Then she sighs. “What other choice did I really have?”

“I don’t know.” Then I reach over and put my hand on hers. “I know it probably seems kind of weird, Shannon, but I really would like to be your friend. I’d like to help you if I can.”

She looks as if she’s about to cry now, and I wonder if I’ve said something wrong. But finally, she says, “Thanks, but there’s probably nothing you can do.”

Now I’m feeling torn. I mean my parents are gone and I am seriously considering inviting this homeless girl home with me. I’d call them, but it’s only two o’clock and I’m guessing they could be out on the slopes right now. Besides I hate to get them all worried. I study Shannon for a moment. I mean for all I know she could be a thief or a murderer. But somehow I don’t think so. Mostly I think she’s a girl who’s hit hard times and has nowhere to turn.

“Do you want to come home with me?” I offer.

“What?”

“Just for the day, you know,” I say quickly since I realize I can’t exactly offer my parents’ home as full-time shelter without their permission. “You could have a shower and do your laundry and stuff.”

She studies me now, almost as if she’s trying to figure out my motives. I mean for all she knows I could be about to sell her as a slave or something. I saw a news show where this actually happens, although it’s usually in big cities. Finally, she says, “Okay, that sounds good.”

So after I finish helping in the kitchen I go out and she’s still there. She has a backpack and a duffle bag and I help her load these into my mom’s car. Okay, I’m feeling a little nervous now, but at the same time I’m thinking this is the right thing to do.

Once we get home, she takes a shower and puts her dirty laundry in the washing machine, then falls asleep on the couch in the family room. She’s sleeping so soundly that I figure she must be exhausted.

My dad calls around five and asks how I’m doing. “Okay,” I tell
him. “I hope you don’t mind that I have a friend over.”

“A
friend
?” his voice sounds slightly concerned and I suspect he thinks I’m talking about Justin.

“A girl I met at the church today,” I say quickly. “Her name is Shannon.”

“Oh,” he sounds greatly relieved. “That’s fine, Zoë.”

“And if it’s okay, I thought I might ask her to spend the night.”

“You met her at church?” he sounds hopeful.

“Yeah, she’s really sweet. You’ll like her.”

“I think that’s okay. And I’m sure your mother will be relieved to know you’re not home alone.”

And so it’s settled. I’ll invite her to stay the night and I won’t even feel guilty about it. Oh, I realize it might be risky, since I don’t really know her, although I can’t imagine that she’d try anything stupid like robbing us or holding me at gunpoint or anything.

And she seems pleased when I invite her to spend the night. “Are you sure your parents won’t mind?” she asks.

“No, I already talked to my dad and he said that’s fine. I thought I could order out pizza if that sounds good to you.”

“Oh, man, that sounds awesome.”

And so we spend the evening like two normal high school girls, eating pizza and watching a movie and then pigging out on popcorn, soda, and some of my dad’s stashed peanut-butter cups. And Shannon really seems to be having a good time. Then suddenly our conversation takes a serious turn.

“My life used to be kind of like this,” she says in a tired voice.

“Uh-huh.” I reach for another handful of popcorn then lean back into the chair and wait.

“I mean just a year ago, I never would’ve dreamed that I’d be living out on the streets.”

I nod. “Yeah, who would?”

“Although I did threaten to run away a couple of times,” she says. “And I considered it. I mean my stepmom can really be a witch sometimes.”

“What happened to your real mom?”

“She died when I was thirteen.”

“Sorry.”

“Yeah, me too. Then my dad met Sandra, at church, of course.” She makes a face. “They got married a couple of years ago, when I was fifteen. And Sandra’s new mission in life was to make me into the perfect daughter. Yeah, sure!”

“That must’ve been hard.”

“Tell me about it.” She reaches for another peanut-butter cup and slowly peels off the paper. “At first I thought she was okay. And I even liked going to church things with her. But then she started getting real bossy, and the harder she pushed me, the more I pulled away. My dad pretty much just checked out.”

“And how did you get pregnant?”

Shannon looks at me like I have two heads then laughs. “Oh, you know, the usual way.”

“Yeah, I know. But I mean was it a boyfriend or just a one-night stand or what?”

“Well, I started dating Grayson last summer. He was out of high school and seemed like he had it all together. I mean he was so cool—he had tattoos and both ears pierced and he even rode a motorcycle, which totally freaked my dad. But he was working hard and wanted to get his own place. I mean he wasn’t like a total degenerate or anything.”

I laugh now. “Yeah, but my dad would probably freak about a motorcycle too.”

“And I kind of liked getting a reaction out of my dad. I mean he was like so checked out, and like Sandra was running the show. And so when Grayson wanted to start having sex, I thought, hey, why not?” She pauses and looks at me like she’s waiting for my reaction.

I just shrug. “Yeah, I can understand that. I mean almost everyone I know is sleeping with someone.” Then I look down at my lap.

“You mean everyone but you?”

“Yeah, but that’s about to change.”

So she gets me to tell her about Justin and I almost feel relieved to spill my guts to someone who doesn’t go to my school and isn’t related to me. I guess I really am missing Emily these days.

“Do you love him?”

I consider this. “I guess I do.” Then I look at her. “Did you love Grayson?”

She firmly shakes her head. “Not even. I mean I kind of liked him then, but I totally despise him now.”

“Why?”

“Well for starters, he used me. Then when I got pregnant, he dumped me and told me it was my problem, not his. And even when Sandra kicked me out, and I went to him for help, he turned his back on me.”

“What a jerk.”

“Yeah. I actually had these delusions that maybe he’d want to marry me and take care of me and the baby. I mean a friend of mine had gotten pregnant earlier in the year and her boyfriend married her and he was still in high school. But it wasn’t like that with Grayson. I was barely out on my own before he had a new girlfriend. That’s when I decided to leave town and come here.” She shakes her head. “I actually thought that I might be able to get a job or something.”

“But you haven’t?”

“Just a couple of temporary things. The job market’s tough right now, and it’s even harder when you show up for an interview looking like you just climbed out of a Dumpster, which is often the case.”

“Oh.” Now for the first time I was stunned by how different Shannon’s life was from mine.

“Well, I’m sure you’re tired. And to be honest, so am I. You have no idea how nice it is to sleep someplace where you don’t have to keep one hand on your bag and the other one holding a knife.”

“You carry a knife?”

“Of course. You think it’d be safe for a girl to sleep out on the streets without a weapon?”

I just shake my head. I think that’s about enough information for the night. “Well, I hope you’ll be comfortable down here,” I tell her. “I’d give you one of my sister’s rooms, but they’d probably have a fit.”

“Hey, like I said, no problem. And if it’s okay, I might watch TV for a while. I haven’t seen TV for so long.”

“That’s fine. And feel free to raid the fridge if you get hungry.”

“Thanks,” she says as I head toward the stairs. “I mean it, Zoë, thanks for everything.”

And so I go to bed with Shannon’s story running through my head. I can’t imagine how she must’ve felt to have gotten pregnant and then been betrayed by her boyfriend, and then to be thrown out. Well, I know that if I got pregnant, and I have no intention of letting this happen, my parents probably wouldn’t throw me out. But on the other hand, they would both be opposed to an abortion. And there was a time when I would’ve been totally opposed as well. Now I’m not so sure what I’d do.

I seriously hope I never have to figure that one out.

T
HE NEXT MORNING
I
AM SURPRISED TO DISCOVER THAT
S
HANNON IS GONE
. And at first I am alarmed, thinking she may have helped herself to anything of value and made a quick getaway. But after carefully checking through the house, even my mom’s jewelry box, I am assured that everything is in its proper place. And then I discover the note she’s left on the kitchen counter and feel guilty for my suspicions.

Dear Zoë,

Thank you for your kind hospitality. I decided to get out of your hair before your parents came home today. I suspect they might not be overly thrilled to find you’ve been harboring a homeless person. I really do appreciate your help and you’ve even inspired me to try harder. I’m not sure exactly what that means, but I think something’s about to change for me. I may even call my Aunt Sophie (my mom’s only sister) and ask her for help. But I’m not sure yet. Who knows, I may be back at the soup kitchen by next Saturday. But I really did appreciate your help.

Love, Shannon

I’m impressed with her well-written note (see, I knew she was smart!), and I’m happy that she wants to try to change things for herself, but at the same time I’m disappointed that she’s left so soon.
I actually liked having her around and had been thinking I’d ask my parents to let her stay for a while.

And when the phone rings around noon, I almost expect it to be her, maybe calling me to come pick her up. But to my complete surprise it’s Emily.

“Hey,” she says in a flat voice.

“Hey,” I say back, waiting for her to tell me why she’s calling. Hopefully not to yell at me again.

“I thought it was time to bury the hatchet,” she says.

“Oh.”

“I mean if you’re willing.”

“Sure, I’m willing.”

“Well, I’m sorry I was so hard on you,” she says. “I was hoping we could get together and talk. Are you busy today?”

And so we agree to go to the mall together. I’m a little nervous about her driving since last time I had to take the bus home, so I offer to take us. We get to the mall without any huge fireworks and walk through our favorite shops together, almost as if nothing was wrong. But when we sit down to have a late lunch, she begins to lay her cards on the table.

“I’m thinking you might be right about Todd,” she says as she sticks her straw into her soda.

I just nod.

“I mean I think there is something going on between him and Shawna Frye.”

I nod again, almost afraid to join this one-sided conversation.

“I saw the two of them together a few days ago. I got off cheerleading practice early and came down to the auditorium since Todd was going to give me a ride home that night, but I caught them out in the hallway and I’m pretty sure they were kissing.”

Feeling like one of those bobble-head dolls, I just nod again. Sure, I want to say things like, “See, I told you so,” and, “Todd is a total jerk,” but I know enough to keep my big mouth shut.

“We got into a big fight and Todd tried to tell me they were just practicing one of their scenes. But I’m not buying it.” Then she leans over and peers at me. “They wouldn’t be out in the hallway practicing a kissing scene, would they?”

I suppress laughter. “No,” I say, trying to sober up. “In fact, Mr. Roberts has told us to save the kissing for the actual performances.”

“Yeah, I figured.” Now she just sits there with the saddest expression on her face. “Well, go ahead,” she tells me, “go ahead and say I told you so.”

I just shrug. “That’s okay. It looks like you figured it out on your own. Maybe I should’ve just kept my mouth shut from the start and then—”

“No way,” she says. “You did the right thing. I mean you are, or at least you were, my best friend, and I should’ve known you wouldn’t lie to me. I just didn’t want to believe it. I guess I was in denial.”

“Yeah, like the Queen of De Nile,” I say jokingly.

“Yeah.” But she still looks sad. “So, it was true then? They were really doing what you said?”

“I wouldn’t make something that disgusting up.”

“I know.” She seems to consider the whole thing. “I mean I realize that guys don’t take that stuff too seriously. I mean I’ve heard that they just use the girls who are willing to do that, and how guys would never get seriously involved with someone that trampy. I mean look at Monica Lewinsky. It didn’t exactly get her where she wanted to be.”