Until Today (4 page)

Chapter Seven

I haven't seen Steph for at least an hour. I scan the smoky room from my spot on the couch, but still don't see her.
Where are you? I don't want to fight my way through this mob by myself. Please come tell me you hate it here and want to go home.

My view is blocked by a large butt that has stopped in front of me. Seeing past the cheeky mass is impossible. It sways every time I try to peek around it. I swear if I ever get out of here, I'll never speak to Steph again.

The guy beside me pokes his elbow into my ribs for the fifth time, while he wrestles with his buddy. If I don't get some fresh air soon, I'll burst. A bead of sweat trickles between my shoulder blades. After a few more minutes of Dodge-That-Butt, I poke it in frustration.

No reaction. I poke again. “Hey, Butt Boy!” No response, but the blonde sitting on the arm of the couch giggles like an idiot.

Glaring at the blonde, I get ready for a harder poke. Before I make contact, the butt falls toward me. With nowhere to escape on the crowded couch, I push myself as far back into the cushion as I can, before it crashes down.

The impact of the landing pushes us both deep into the couch. Butt Boy falls across my lap, into the guy beside me, spilling his drink on the carpet and my white running shoes. The guy beside me loses his drink and it spills down the side of my yellow shirt.

I'm
not going to cry. I'm not going to let these people see me break down.
I blink against the blur of tears, silently willing them to go away before anybody notices.
Please let me wake up from this nightmare.

I spot Steph, who's being dragged across the room by Mike.
Thank you! Finally, we can leave.

“See? I told you not to worry,” Mike shouts at Steph. “She's found her own friend.” He pulls Steph out of the room. She looks over her shoulder and mouths that she's sorry before disappearing.

With a sinking heart, I watch her go, leaving me alone in a room full of drunken strangers, with the largest one sprawled across my lap. How could she do this to me? I look away, wiping a tear off my cheek.

“Ah, don't cry, Babe. I love you,” slurs Butt Boy.

Something snaps inside me. The shouts and loud music recede to a dull hum as I focus on my one and only goal – to find the front door and leave this awful place.

With a mighty heave, I push the drunk off my lap and onto the floor. “Get off me, Bubble Butt.”

I barge my way through the crowd, searching for Steph. Fingers dig into my arms and steady me when I stumble over some garbage. I look into the eyes of my rescuer and attempt to thank him. He cuts me off. “You look like you could use some strong hands tonight, Baby.”

“In your dreams,” I shout and continue pushing my way through the crowd.

The cigarette smoke burns my throat and my lungs are begging for unpolluted air. My shoes stick to the floor with every step.
I should just leave Steph here. Why am I looking for her? She abandoned me. She doesn't need me, so I don't need her.

Finally, I make it into the kitchen. An elbow digs into my breast and I'm shoved from behind. That's it. I need out.

I glance around. There's
a base for a cordless phone hanging on the wall, but no phone.

“Anybody know where the phone is?” I shout over the din. Nobody answers.

“Forget it,” I mumble and push my way to the front door.

Outside, the house behind me pulses with life while I greedily suck in the fresh air.

What now? It's a long, cool walk home. Why didn't I grab my cell phone before I came?
I didn't grab it because it was in the family room and I didn't want to see Greg. The guy is making me afraid of going into my own house.

I shiver when a breeze blows my wet shirt against me. I can't stand out here all night.

We passed a convenience store on the way here in Mike's car. Maybe they have a phone I could use.

The lights of the convenience store light up the night. A car pulls out of the parking lot and somebody shouts, “Hey, Beautiful, want to go for a ride?” Hoots and hollers come from inside the car and fade away as it turns the corner.

There's an old pay phone at the side of the building. I dig into my pocket for a quarter, relieved to find one. At least something has gone right tonight.

Who should I call? I can't call home with Greg there. He'd either come for me, or Dad would leave him alone with Sarah. The thought of either scenario makes me cringe.

Scott – of course! I'll call Scott. Please be home,
I silently beg while dialling the phone.

“Hello?”

“Scott?” My voice sounds choked and breathless.

“Kat?”

“Yeah, it's me. Can you come get me? Steph dragged me to this party, and now I'm stuck.”

“What party? The one they've been talking about at school?”

“Yeah, that one. Can you come?”

“What were you thinking going there? Forget it. I'm not coming out there.”

“Please, Scott. I don't want to call my dad and I just need to get out of here.”

After a pause that feels like an eternity, Scott says he'll be there in a few minutes.

I tell him where to find me and walk into the store to wait. The cashier glances suspiciously at me while I stand just inside the door. Finally, Scott pulls up in his mom's van and I slip into the passenger seat. “Thanks, Scott. I wanted out of there so bad.”

“Where's Steph?”

“She's still there with Mike.” I turn toward the side window, unable to stand the look of disappointment on Scott's face.

“You mean Mike Turner?” Scott asks.

“Yeah, that's him. She's been mooning over him all week.”

“He's bad news. What's she doing with him?”

I turn toward Scott, annoyed. “How should I know? She was fine when I left.”

“Why would you let her be with him? That crowd only wants to party, drink, and smoke up.”

I lean back against the headrest, trying to ignore Scott's lecture. My whole body feels tired. My muscles no longer want to function and I can almost feel myself floating when I close my eyes.

The van rolls forward to pull out of the parking lot.

“Are you sure she's okay?” Scott's tone has changed, as if he's finally clued in to my mood.

I look over at him and nod. “She's a big girl, Scott. She's fine. She wants to be there.” He's obviously concerned for his sister.

Scott stops the van at a red light and glances at me. “At least one of you had enough brains to leave before things got out of control.” My eyes fall shut again. “You okay? You look beat.”

“Yeah, it's been a rough week. I could sleep for two days straight.”

“I'm sorry. I guess I haven't been around much. I should've been there for you more with Jared leaving and everything.”

“Yeah, Jared leaving, my parents—”
Greg.

“Anything I can do?”

He looks so sincere and concerned. None of his earlier annoyance is showing now.

I shake my head and whisper, “Just be my friend.” For the first time in a while, I feel safe and warm.

A comfortable silence wraps around us. The night feels peaceful. My muscles relax and I sink into the van's seat. Closing my eyes, my mind lets go, and I drift off to sleep.

“Hey, we're home.” Scott's hand presses into my shoulder. Surfacing, I see Scott's dark, chocolate-colored eyes staring at me. He's always had the kindest, warmest eyes. Never once have they turned cold and calculating like Greg's.

Why does Greg always have to pop into my head? Why does everything come back to him?

Awkwardly jerking the van door open, I turn to thank Scott. I pause when he puts his hand on my arm.

“What just freaked you out?” Scott sounds so sincere, like he really cares and wants to help. Until now, nobody has
asked me what's wrong. Nobody has been concerned. Nobody has cared.

If you tell, nobody will believe you. If you tell, I'll hurt Sarah. If you tell, your father will be mad at you, Kat. You'll be the bad girl, Kat, like always. It's your fault, Kat. I can hurt you, Kat. You know they'll blame you, Kat. You can't even talk to them without arguing.

“Kat?” Scott's fingers tighten on my arm.

Greg's voice grows louder.
Kat, you're my special girl. Kat, nobody can know about how special you are – they'll be jealous and try to hurt you. Let me hold you. I can make you feel better.

“Don't touch me!” I yell. I can't separate the touch on my arm from Greg's voice in my head.

Jerking free, I open the door and run down the driveway onto the road. A horn honks and headlights arc around me. I feel like I'm not really here, and this can't be happening.

“Kat!”

I draw in a deep breath at the sound of my name. Is that Scott's voice or Greg's? Greg gets angry if I try to run away. He'll punish me.

A dark cloak of panic wraps around me. Greg can't catch me. He can't touch me again. I can't stand anymore. I run up my driveway, my breath coming in short bursts. The fear of Greg popping out from behind every shadow and tree builds inside me.

Finally, the front door. I slam it shut behind me and look out the window. Nobody is coming up the steps and Greg's
car is gone. I lean back against the door.
I'm safe. He's outside and can't get in
.

My breathing gradually slows to a more regular pace and the edges of panic start to fade.

“Get a grip, Kat,” I tell myself.

Gradually, I start to notice my surroundings. The house is dark except for a lamp in the living room. Everybody must be in bed. That's odd. It must be later than I thought if the hockey game is over already and Dad is asleep.

Reality replaces the last edge of panic. Flinching, I remember what just happened outside with Scott. He must think I'm crazy. What happened to me out there? I think I'm going totally nuts.

“See what you've done to me!” I call out. Silence answers.

Chapter Eight

“Kat, Steph's here!”

Mom's voice, calling up the stairs, wakes me from a troubled sleep. I groan and roll over to see my alarm clock. Eleven o'clock already.

“Tell her to come on up here,” I yell back.

I had tossed and turned all night, disturbed by weird dreams. First, Greg was chasing me through a park. He turned into a lion when he leaped on me. Steph was sitting on a park bench, laughing and watching the whole thing.

Then I had a dream about Scott. I asked him to help keep Greg away. Scott took me away and hid me. I begged him not to leave me alone, but he turned into Greg, promising he would always be with me.

My head is pounding, and I'm not looking forward to seeing Steph.

The bedroom door creaks as Steph peeks around it.

“Hey, can I come in?” She looks like she survived last night's party. The happy expression on her face makes me sick to my stomach.

I sit up on the side of the bed and shrug. “Suit yourself.”

Steph steps in and closes the door behind her. “Guess you're mad about last night.” She sits on my desk chair and rolls back and forth, pushing herself with her foot.

Is she for real?

Steph assumes the obvious by my silence and launches into a pitiful apology.

“Come on, Kat. I'm sorry I left you alone at the party, but you didn't seem to mind with that guy sprawled across your lap.”

I glare at Steph. “That was a drunken jerk who fell on me. He spilled a drink all over me. I wouldn't exactly call that fun.”

I point to the shirt lying on the floor. Steph picks it up and crinkles her nose.

“Sorry Kat. I didn't realize you were having such a miserable time. I'll make it up to you. I promise. Besides, how can you stay mad at me?”

Steph's face transforms into a goofy pout that makes me laugh. She's right. I can't stay mad at her. I really need a friend right now. Scott probably thinks I belong in the loony bin.

Steph smiles when I laugh. “I'm glad you're not going to give me a hard time. Scott already lit into me this morning for going to a party like that, for dating Mike, and for abandoning you. He was in a real mood. He's such a stick lately!”

Grabbing my dirty shirt away from Steph, I throw it in the corner and go to my closet to find some clothes. “He was worried about you. Give him a break. Some of the people there last night don't have the best rep.”

“He's my twin, not my father,” Steph moans. “He used to be fun, but lately he needs to loosen up.”

I pull out a sweatshirt and an old pair of jeans. The shirt has been worn so much, it has holes in the elbows, but it's comfortable. The jeans have a hole in the right knee.

Steph wrinkles her nose. “Why don't you wear that shirt I bought you for your birthday?”

“Steph, you're only forgiven if you lay off about my clothes. These are comfortable, and I don't have plans today, anyway.”

“Okay, okay. Deal. Hey, you wouldn't want to help me with that calculus assignment we're supposed to have done for Monday, would you?”

Sighing, I nod. Steph started asking for my help with homework a lot last year. I get the feeling she'd prefer I do it for her. That's probably why she asks me instead of Scott.

“Thanks,” she says and jumps off the chair. “I'll get my books.” The front door slams a few moments after Steph leaves my room.

I head for the kitchen, grab a bagel, and wander toward the family room, where Sarah is watching Saturday morning cartoons.

“Where are Mom and Dad?”

“They left when Steph came. They told me to get you if I needed anything.”

Nice of them to let me know.

“Where'd they go?”

Sarah shrugs. “Don't know. They just said they'd be back soon. Jared called last night.”

“Really?” I'm disappointed to have missed his call.

Her eyes light up. “Yeah, he said I can come visit him some time. That'll be neat.”

“Yeah, that'd be cool. Maybe I'll try to call him.”

Sarah turns back to the television. I try Jared's number. No answer.

A knock on the door echoes through the house as Steph bursts in. “I'm back,” she shouts.

No kidding.

“Come upstairs. We might as well work in my room.”

Steph and I spend the afternoon together. We do a bit of homework and Steph whines about having to learn derivatives. She can't think of a single time she'd ever have to use them in the “real world.” I can't think of a use for them either, but I don't mind learning them.

We take a break from calculus and watch
Finding Nemo
with Sarah. After the movie, the phone rings.

Sarah answers in the kitchen, then returns to announce that Mom and Dad won't be home for a while.

“Where are they?” I ask.

“Dad is at Greg's, helping him fix their car. Mom did some work at the school and then went shopping with Amy.”

“Great,” I mumble.

“Mom said to order pizza for supper. We can use the money on top of her dresser.”

“You want to stay for pizza?” I ask Steph. “You could stay over tonight. It'd be fun.”

Steph shakes her head, glancing at her watch. “I can't. I'm going out with Mike.”

“Oh.” My stomach sinks. Scott is right – Mike is bad news. I nod my head toward my bedroom, signaling Steph that we need to talk away from Sarah.

She follows me up to my room.

“Um, Steph, maybe…”

“Oh, Kat, he's so great. We had a blast last night. He's so funny,” Steph gushes. “He's an awesome kisser.” Steph's eyes glow.

Caught off guard by her last statement, I clear my throat. “Oh…that's great, Steph. You didn't…?”

She catches my meaning immediately, and laughs. “No, of course not. We just made out. He made me tingle all over, Kat. I can't wait to see him tonight.”

The guy is a jerk and doesn't deserve her. The thought of her “tingling all over” is sickening.

“Steph, maybe you should be kind of careful. He has a lousy reputation. What if he's using you or something?”

“Mike likes me for me, not for anything else. I can't believe you'd say something like that. What kind of friend are you?”

“Steph, I didn't mean it like—”

“Are you jealous? Is that your problem? Are you jealous that I attract guys and you don't?”

I grab Steph's arm. “Steph, that's not…”

Steph breaks away from my grip and paces around the room. “Scott said you freaked out on him last night. I just figured it was from the party. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe it's more. You have been moody lately.”

“I'm not jealous, Steph. Why would I be jealous over someone like Mike?”

“So now Mike's not good enough for you? Nobody's good enough for you lately.”

Sudden anger clouds my common sense. “Yeah, you're right.
Nobody's
good enough for me.” I look pointedly at Steph.

“Fine,” Steph shouts and opens the bedroom door.

“Yeah fine,” I shout back. “You better get ready for your
date
. It'll take awhile to make yourself beautiful.”

Steph glares at me before leaving the room. I can hear her stomping all the way down the stairs and the front door slamming behind her.

How dare she yell at me and accuse me of being jealous!
Stupid, ungrateful…

“What's her problem?” Sarah asks, stepping into my room.

“Nothing. What do you want?”

“Mom said you're supposed to order pizza. I'm hungry,” Sarah whines.

“Fine.” I push past her to get the pizza money from Mom's dresser.

“I'm telling Dad you pushed me,” Sarah yells.

“Go ahead, you tell him everything. You always run to Daddy.” I feel tight and ready to explode after my scene with Steph.

“I do not,” Sarah screams at me.

“Yes, you do. You always go crying to him.”

“Well, you're mean and bossy.” Sarah sticks out her tongue.

“Shut up, Sarah.”

“No, I don't have to. You can't make me. You're always telling me what to do, and I don't have to do what you say.”

“Says who?”

“Says Daddy. He told me I don't have to do what you say when you're being silly, like when you told me to get away from Greg.”

This whole argument has turned serious now that Sarah has mentioned Greg. I try to calm myself with a deep breath.

“Sarah, listen to me…”

“No, I don't have to. I'm not listening.” Sarah covers her ears. “La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la—”

I pull her hands away from her ears. “Don't be so childish. Listen, I'm serious.” I fight against Sarah's struggles to break free. “Sarah, you shouldn't be hugging Greg like that. You shouldn't be touching him at all or letting him touch you. Do you understand? Has Greg ever tried to touch you or hurt you, Sarah?”

Sarah begins to sob. “No, Kat. I'm not listening! Daddy says I can hug Uncle Greg whenever I want.”

“Sarah!” I say harshly. “You can't do that anymore with Uncle Greg.”

With a tug, Sarah breaks free and runs away. “You're not nice, Kat. I hate you.”

Her steps echo down the stairs and the back patio door slides open. Let her pout. I'm ordering the pizza. If she's going to be a baby, then she can starve.

I calm down while I wait for the pizza. I didn't handle that well. If only she hadn't come in right after my argument with Steph, things probably would have gone better. I might have been able to make her understand how important it is for her to tell me if Greg has done anything to her.

“I'm only trying to protect you, Sarah,” I whisper, just as the doorbell rings.

Pizza in hand, I search for Sarah. I'm annoyed when I don't find her on the swing. She does this all the time for attention. She's probably sitting on the rock ledge beside the fire pit, pouting like a baby.

Annoyance turns into anger, then worry, when I don't find her on the rock ledge, in the clubhouse, or down by our dock in the river. Sarah has disappeared.