Grabbing the handle of the suitcase, I pull it to the edge of the bed and move my hands to either end of it, flipping open the gold snaps holding it closed.
I feel Nolan come up behind me, the front of his body brushing up against my back while he silently looks over my shoulder. The lid of the suitcase creaks as I slowly open it, staring down at the contents with a smile on my face.
“Why did you put all of these clothes in a suitcase in another room and keep the stuffy, boring dresses in your closet?” he asks in confusion.
Glancing down at myself and the one pair of jean shorts I hacked off, paired with one of the “stuffy” dresses I turned into a crop top by cutting it off from the waist down, I smile as I look back inside the suitcase.
I hated those dresses, but I put them on every day because I was told they were what I loved and what I always wore. I forced myself to accept what I was told, even though it didn’t feel right, and I didn’t recognize the girl in the mirror.
“I have no idea,” I finally answer Nolan as I pull every item out of the suitcase.
This time, I don’t really have to lie to him. I remember being in this room, and I knew what would be in this suitcase before I even opened it, but I still don’t remember anything else.
Right now, it doesn’t matter. Pulling out ratty and well-worn jean shorts, miniskirts and tank tops, bell-bottoms and crop tops, I spread them out all over the bed and stare at the items before me. Confidence flares inside me with the knowledge that yet another gut feeling I had that conflicted with what my parents told me turned out to be correct.
“My name is Ravenna Duskin. I’m eighteen years old, I live in a prison, and I can finally dress the way I’m supposed to.”
Chapter 14
Pacing back and forth in the hallway while I wait for Nolan to get here, I try to come up with a way to get my father out of his office. I need to get in there and look at the picture my mother mentioned. I’m sure most of what she said to me that night in my room was utter nonsense from a delusional woman, but maybe not all of it. I won’t know for sure until I can get to the picture and see if it makes me remember anything.
There’s a knock at the door, and I race over to it and quickly throw it open. My shoulders drop and I let out an annoyed sigh, leaning my shoulder against the doorjamb and crossing my arms over my chest.
“What are you doing here?”
Trudy stands in front of me with her long blonde hair curled up at the ends and a wide yellow headband keeping her bangs pulled back on top of her head. She’s wearing a short yellow dress with a full skirt and capped sleeves, like a perfect ray of sunshine. It’s so pathetic I want to throw up on her black and white saddle shoes. Maybe she’s really my parents’ long-lost daughter. She certainly dresses the part.
Trudy holds out a bright orange Pyrex dish with a daisy painted on the white lid and smiles brightly.
“We just heard about your mom. I’m so sorry, Ravenna. My mom made a tuna casserole for you and your father. You haven’t returned any of my calls lately so I thought we could hang out and talk.”
Keeping my arms crossed, I stare down at the dish in disgust. “Thanks, but no thanks.”
I push off the doorframe, stepping back inside to close the door in her face. Trudy moves fast, sticking her foot in front of the door to stop it from closing.
“Look, I know your mom died, but that’s no reason for you to be so nasty to me when I’m just trying to help,” she says, tucking the dish under one arm. “What’s happened to you lately, Ravenna? One minute you’re my friend, then you’re mean to me, then you’re normal, and now you’re back to acting weird.”
She pauses in the middle of her speech to look me up and down from head to toe. “Also, that outfit you’re wearing is trashy.”
Maybe the black high-waist shorts that barely cover my butt and dark blue crop tank top that shows off a strip of the pale skin of my stomach are a bit much when I’m just going to be wandering around a prison all day, but this is who I am and Miss Trudy Sunshine better watch her mouth.
“Have you even brushed your hair in a week?” she finishes haughtily.
“What’s your problem, Ravenna? You look awful. Have you even brushed your hair in a week?”
A slow smile spreads across my face as I stare at the simpering idiot standing in front of me. This might be one of the best parts of my plan. If I’m going to destroy it all, might as well start with the useless best friend.
“He doesn’t want you. You realize that, right? You’re just a sad, pathetic little girl who can’t handle it when someone else has something you want.”
Her attitude vanishes and she drops her hands from her hips.
“W-what are you talking about?” she nervously stutters.
I laugh right in her face. How in the world would someone ever want to be friends with a girl who is so clueless?
“I saw you from my bedroom window, Trudy. Just because a guy feels sorry for you and spends a few minutes talking to you, doesn’t mean he wants you to throw yourself at him.”