I heard her sigh on the other end of the phone, which pissed me off even further. I’d been yelling like a banshee during our entire conversation, only to hear her calmly respond to my remarks from her end. Where did she get off, expelling some wise-beyond-her-years sigh, talking at me like I was some petulant child and she was so damned mature all of a sudden? Not one month before, I was holding her freaking hair out of the toilet while she puked her guts out after too many shots of Jaeger. Four weeks later, she’s trying out her June Cleaver impersonation?
“You know what, Lis? FUCK YOU. I hope you and Pickford live happily ever after. Have a nice life.”
I slammed down the phone, so furious that I was actually shaking. It was the worst betrayal ever. I couldn’t believe my best friend in the entire world was content to just throw me into the lion’s den without even looking back. How the hell was I going to survive New York on my own? How could she expect me to?
I went downstairs and just shrieked the whole sordid story out to my father. The poor man didn’t know what to do with me, stunned that I was slumped at his feet, laying all this information on him.
“Oh, Layla. I’m so sorry.”
“Well, at least someone is! Lisa could care less!”
He finally realized he was holding a book, and placed it on the side table before offering, “I highly doubt that. She loves you, honey.”
“Well, she obviously loves Pick more!”
“Be fair. I’m sure this was a hard decision for her.”
“I doubt it.”
I was being extraordinarily stubborn, and my father could tell he wasn’t going to get through to me any time soon. He finally capitulated, throwing his hands in the air and attempted to distract me. “Well, it’s too much to figure out tonight, right?” He got up from his recliner and held out his hand to me. “Come on. I’ll buy you an ice cream cone.”
I let him haul me up from the floor before he threw an arm around my shoulders and led me to the kitchen. “Everything’s going to work out just fine, Layla-Loo. You’ll see.”
Yeah, right.
Not twenty-four hours after having to say goodbye to Cooper, Lisa decided to abandon me. I was so sick of how quickly everything was changing and I couldn’t seem to keep up with it all. I had enough anxiety about having to leave my friends and family behind, say sayonara to Trip, my dad, my brother... and leave the only place I’d ever lived in my entire life. On top of which Lisa goes and lays all this new information on me. It was just too much to handle for one seventeen-year-old girl.
If that’s what it took to grow up, then no thank you, I could do without it, thank you very much. It only meant letting go of everything and everyone I ever loved.
Chapter 34
DEFENDING YOUR LIFE
I found myself back at my old locker at St. Norman’s.
There was a padlock on the handle, which was weird, because those things had been banned the year before. The school was trying out a new honor system, under the misguided fantasy that good little Catholic students like us didn’t have any need to lock up our belongings from all the other good little Catholic students. I’d had a leather jacket, numerous writing implements and my senior yearbook stolen over the course of the year, so... I guess it was a pretty good system. Not. Thankfully, I was able to replace the yearbook, but I never did see that jacket again.
When I saw that the lock had my initials carved into it, I realized it was mine, the one I’d had ever since junior high. I’d left it in my locker all year, hoping for a reversal in the new rule. I must have unconsciously slapped the thing on there on the last day of school. I tried out my old combination: 0-6-16, and it popped right open.
I was expecting to find an empty space, but instead, there was a single, white rose. My heart starting beating faster, wondering if Trip had left it for me. The more I looked at it, the more I saw that it wasn’t in the best of shape, wilting and browning around the edges, obviously due to inattention. The thing had probably been in there since grad night. I’d never had the greenest thumb, but I’m sure I could have managed to keep a single flower alive, at least for a little while, had I only known it was in there. I figured the best I could do at that point was to try and dry it out and keep it as a memento.
I went to grab it, intending to press it into my yearbook, when I noticed it was making some sort of noise.
Like a ticking.
And then I saw some strange wires protruding from it.
I looked at the floor of my locker and saw a brick of explosive material-what was that stuff called again?- and wondered who would have left a boobytrap for me. Why is it called a boobytrap?
But then I realized I shouldn’t care about such details when all I really needed to concentrate on was getting out of there. Quick.
I tried to run, but it was like I couldn’t get my legs to move properly, practically in cartoon mode, my arms pumping and my legs in a Roadrunner blur, but it wasn’t getting me anywhere. I knew I only had seconds-for some reason, I was able to see the digital readout on the bomb, counting down in boxy, red numerals, even though I’d slammed the locker door shut before trying to run away.