Chapter Thirty-Three Abracadabra!
An arm swings out from beneath my mattress, and I swallow bile. There’s a person under my bed. She must have come in before Poppet and I did, snuck beneath the pink fringe bed skirts, and waited until we fell asleep. No wonder our assailants still reached us when we blocked the door.
They slept there overnight.
They hate us that much.
I snap forward and grab the person’s wrist. Slim, veiny—a girl’s wrist. I jerk on it and hear her squeal with surprise.
“Get out from under there!” I yell.
Poppet is awake now, bolting upright. “What’s going on?”
I pull on the wrist harder until a face appears from under my bed. Because it’s dark, I cross the room and flip on the lamp. When I see who stares back at me from the floor, I gasp.
Dark hair, blond eyebrows, a smile that says she’s almost proud to be caught.
“Ruby?” Poppet says.
Ruby gets to her feet and I rush to Poppet’s bed, peek underneath. There’s no one there. I turn on the Point Girl. “So it’s you then. All this time, it’s been you. Why?”
Ruby shrugs. “You girls think you’re so special. Think the rest of us haven’t worked to move up? Think we haven’t asked the madam for the same allowances? But here you come and her equality speech goes out the window.”
I try to mask how badly the betrayal burns. I didn’t see this coming. Not after how kind she’d been, though now I understand why she was always so adamant about keeping the lights off. It was so she could slither under our beds and stay there without being seen. “You’ve been cutting us! What in the world could that accomplish?”
Ruby strides toward the door like she’s finished with this conversation.
“Hey, I’m talking to you,” I snap.
Don’t let her walk out on us, Wilson growls.
Poppet gets to her feet. “You were the only one?”
I look at Poppet like what does that matter, but Ruby laughs and turns partway around. “Nah. It was a group effort. See, we’re friends. But you two are just a couple of holier-than-thou skanks. You’re like parasites.” She grins and touches a finger to her nose. “One of my girls said she was counting the days until you were gone, and it gave us an idea.”
A cold sweat breaks out across my forehead. These girls are worse than the Carnations. At least they were up-front about their resentment. But to hide beneath our beds and torture us while we slept, all while being welcoming to our faces? It makes me sick.
“I want you off my floor.” Ruby’s voice holds a warning.
There are two beats of silence before our bedroom door opens and another Daisy strides inside. “Oh, crap. They found us out?” She throws her head back and laughs. It’s theatrical, that laugh, like she planned for this moment.
Three more girls are close on her heels.
Oh, good. They’re all here. It’s go time.
“Get out,” I whisper.
A Daisy with shiny skin, slick with lotion, crosses her arms. “Didn’t you know? We own this floor, which means we own this room, too. You could sleep in the hallway if you’d like. Right, Ruby?”
Ruby shrugs one shoulder. “Don’t ever say we aren’t charitable.”
“Get out of here,” I repeat. My blood pounds behind my eyes as Wilson pulls on boxing gloves, bounces around inside my head, and swings right hooks. He’s being funny, but I’m not laughing.
The girl with the well-lotioned face uncrosses her arms and powers toward me. “I’m tired of this chick.”
I don’t know what she intends to do, but Poppet cuts her off. Slaps her cold across the face and shoves her backward. “You get near Domino again, and I’ll hit you a second time. This time with a closed fist.”
The girl acts like she might accept the challenge, but Poppet is quick to flinch in her direction. “Try it! Hit me! But you better know where I come from. You better know who you’re picking a fight with.”
I don’t move. Neither does anyone else. If Lotion Face decides to take on Poppet, I’ll hit her before she can rear back. But for now, I let Poppet hold the floor. I let her protect me. My body floods with affection for Poppet, this girl with small eyes behind thick glasses. This girl who told me she’d never leave with me, but won’t stand by as someone threatens her friend.
The girls in the back of the room are pushed aside when Mr. Hodge bursts into the small space. The moment he enters the arena, the floodgates burst. I don’t know how exactly it happens, but it goes something like this: Mr. Hodge bumps Lotion Face in the back.
Lotion Face collides with Poppet.
Poppet shoves her backward.
Lotion Face makes a fist.
And the room erupts into civil war. I’m taken to the ground, my head slamming into the hardwood floor. Someone is on top of me—Ruby, I think—and she’s clawing at my face. I remain calm even though Wilson is bouncing around up there. Instead of defending myself, I let her tear her nails down my cheeks. Then I wait for an opening.
There.
I throw a tight blow to her nose. It snaps and blood gushes out. Her hands fly to her face, and I push her off me with everything I have. Now she’s on the floor, and I’m the one scaling this mountain. I’m on her chest for two seconds, enough time to hit her once more in her ribs, before two girls are pulling me off.
The Neck is yelling and trying to hold a Daisy off Poppet, but Poppet is doing just fine on her own until a second girl hits her from behind. Now Mr. Hodge is standing between the three girls—two trying to clobber the third—and I’m left to defend myself against three Daisies.
Wilson positions himself firmly in my mind, whispers sweet nothings.
You don’t want to know the things he says.
Or maybe you do.
Get the lamp, he says. Smash it over her head.
What does that cord go to? Let’s wrap it around her neck.
There’s a pillow on your bed. I know exactly what we could do with that.
I try to drown him out and do what I do best when luck has turned its back. I curl into a ball and cover my head, wait while the Daisies get their licks in.
Get up! Wilson yells. Get up! Get that blanket from your bed. Tie a noose with it. Where are those high heels you wore last night? They’d make a fine blade.
I ignore him.
Domino Ray, do something. Do something or I will!
Nothing.
I said, DO SOMETHING!
My hands fly out without my permission. I grab hold of a Daisy’s ankle mid-kick and yank on it. She’s ripped from her feet and lands on her back. I spring on top of her like a chimp. My fingers find my dresser drawer and I rip it open, dive my hand in, pull out a fork. It appears like magic.
Abracadabra.
The girl beneath me stops fighting, and her eyes enlarge. Her mouth forms a black circle of surprise, and it seems to me the best place to sink this fork.
But I can’t stop staring at the weapon in my hand.
How did it get there?
When did I nip this from the kitchen?
Shhh, Wilson coos. Go to sleep, sweet Domino Ray.
I raise the fork, my arm shaking, and bring it down.
I’m an inch from driving it into the Daisy’s mouth—open wide!—when strong hands pull me from the girl. I’m no sooner on my feet than another girl is lunging at me. But a wall separates us.
Cain.
I know him by the look of his back alone.
That can’t be healthy.
Each time someone grabs for me, each time a girl tries to get in one last shot, he blocks their advance. He doesn’t lay his hands on anyone. Just stands there, making it clear whose side he’s on.
Mr. Hodge drags Ruby from the room and yells for her to calm down her girls. Ruby shakes her head like a skipping record. But finally she relents and calls for the Daisies to get out of there. They don’t listen until she stomps in and pulls two girls out by the elbow.
Though Daisies are still screaming profanities, and Poppet is acting like she might instigate another round, things begin to calm. As for me, I’m shaking. Not my whole body, just my left side. I can’t stop thinking about that fork.
About what Wilson almost had me do.
I can’t stay in this place much longer. It’s not so much about my safety, but the other girls. At the same time, I need more cash before I take off. If I leave with what little I have, I’ll end up in the same situation: depending on others, surviving day to day, forming rocky relationships that won’t stick.
I need a place of my own.
I need money.
The Neck shoves his face inside and roars for us to stay in this room and not come out. He starts to close the door, but I grab the edge.
“I want to see Madam Karina,” I bark, delirious.
He screws his face up like I’m mad. “Out of the question.”
“She’ll want to hear what I have to say.”
“I doubt that.”
“I could bring her up,” Cain suggests. “If the madam seems upset, I’ll take her away.”
Mr. Hodge looks back and forth between the two of us for a long time before glaring at Cain. “She’s not going to be happy with you.”
“Domino, don’t leave me,” Poppet squeaks.
I turn and look at my friend, at her torn shirt and disheveled hair. She has a purple bruise blooming under her right eye. In any other scenario, I’d tell her it looks wicked cool. But this isn’t another scenario, so I launch myself around her in an embrace and then look Poppet squarely in those red-rimmed eyeballs.
“I will never leave you,” I say. “Not me. No way, no how.”
Mr. Hodge groans. “This is all very touching.”
“Let us see Madam Karina.” I glare at Mr. Hodge, make him fidget from my silence.
He rolls his eyes upward and waves toward Cain. “Take ’em up there. Better you than me.” Mr. Hodge casts a stern look in my direction. “If I hear about you giving her any trouble…”
“You won’t.”
Cain touches my arm. “Come on.”