Going Under

Monday morning was painful. I didn’t want to see Ryan and sneaked into first period, tiptoeing to my desk like a burglar. I should have carried my book bag like those cartoon characters carry the sack of money, cinched at the top with my two hands pressed close to my chest. All I needed was a striped outfit and a big dollar sign on my bag.

He was already in his seat, staring out the window, and I hoped he wouldn’t turn around. I decided against striking up a conversation with Lucy. I thought if he didn’t hear my voice, he would forget I even existed.

“Did you have a nice weekend?” Lucy asked, as I opened my notebook. Ryan turned around and glanced at me. Well, so much for that.

“Yeah. You?”

“It was all right. I went to this crafts antique fair thing up in the mountains with my mom,” Lucy said. “I thought it’d be really lame, but it was actually fun.”

“Uh huh.”

“I think I’m totally digging the shabby chic look. I think when I own my own place, I’ll decorate that way,” Lucy continued.

Who was this girl? I thought. I’d only been trying to get her to talk to me since the first day of school. Now when she decided to be a chatterbox, I wanted her to shut the hell up.

“We ended up staying in this cute bed and breakfast while we were up there. It wasn’t planned or anything. Just spur of the moment. I like that about my mom.”

I nodded and looked Ryan’s way. He was back at it, staring out the window, and I wished I knew what he was thinking. I was dying to talk to him, but I didn’t know what to say. We left things on such a weird note, not even bothering to say goodbye to each other. That was rude and immature on both our parts. Or maybe I didn’t realize just how much I had embarrassed him.

“You mentioned cheerleading the other day,” Lucy said, and I whipped my head around so fast, my neck popped. She heard it. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah yeah. Fine. What about cheerleading?” I asked, massaging my neck.

“Oh, well you mentioned you used to cheer. So did I,” she said.

My eyebrows shot up, and then I lowered them just as quickly. Must I make everything so obvious?

“When?” I asked. “Where?”

“Here in ninth grade. I quit though. Obviously.”

“Why?” I pressed.

Lucy fidgeted for a moment with the buttons on her blouse. “It just didn’t work out.”

I couldn’t leave it at that. “Did you have a falling out with one of the girls or something?”

Lucy shook her head. “I just became disinterested, I guess.”

Yeah, like everything else in her life. The girl did nothing at school now, but in ninth grade, she was involved in everything.

“Any particular reason why?” I asked.

“I guess I didn’t like being a flyer,” she said.

Bullshit. Those pictures I saw told otherwise, unless she was really good at faking it, and Lucy didn’t come across as the type of girl who was good at faking anything. That’s why I liked her.

“The Liberty was my specialty, though,” she said. “I know you said you were good at basket tosses and not so much the Liberty.” She thought for a moment then whispered, “I was good at the Liberty.”

I saw the pain and anger deep within her eyes, a hurt that’s only felt by someone who’s suffered a major indignity. And I’m not talking about being called a nasty name or having a rumor spread about you. I’m not talking about getting your feelings hurt because someone or something didn’t live up to your expectations. I’m talking about the kind of indignity that changes you as a person, makes you withdraw, hide from the world because suddenly it’s turned into something frightening—full of dark corners and monsters.

“Wanna hang out after school?” I asked. “I don’t have to work.”

Lucy looked at me confused.

“You know. Come to my house. Watch some TV or whatever,” I said. I wish I wouldn’t have added the “whatever” at the end. It made me sound indecisive, and I was not an indecisive person.

“I guess,” she said, uncertain.

“It won’t be too bad,” I said, and winked at her. She giggled.

“Sounds fun,” Lucy said, and the hurt vanished from her eyes instantly.

***

I wanted so much to invade Lucy’s privacy. I needed to know about Cal. I needed to know if she wished to do anything about him or bury her pain for good. But Gretchen showed up unannounced, so all of my well-planned questions had to wait.

“I’m totally loving your name,” Gretchen said to Lucy. “It’s adorable.”

Lucy shrugged. “I hate it, actually. Everyone calls me the Narnia girl. It’s so stupid.”

“Whatever,” Gretchen said. “She was adorable, too.”

“How do you know Brooke?” Lucy asked.

“Oh, she used to go to my high school,” Gretchen said, and I shifted uncomfortably on my bed. I wasn’t sure how much I wanted Lucy to know.

“Really?” Lucy asked, directing the question to me.

I nodded.

“So why do you go to Charity Run?” Lucy asked.

“My mom moved to California. It was either go live in San Francisco or move in with my dad,” I said.

“Well, you may have made the right choice. You’re kind of a hit with some boys at school,” Lucy said. “At least that’s what I heard.”

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