Chapter 7
After another two weeks,
Rachel was almost fully recovered, except for minor dizzy spells and a
general sense of weakness. She didn't talk about leaving anymore, but someone
still stayed with her at all times. Cassie had to start going back to work
of course, but she cut down on the number of meetings she attended so she
was usually home with Rachel. When Cassie did have work to do, Jordan came,
often skipping school, to spend the time with her sister. It was the best
compromise Rachel and Cassie could come up with and it pleased Naomi to
have someone keeping an eye on Rachel that felt obligated to report on
how she was doing.
Cassie was optimistic
about Rachel's recovery. Jordan's visits seemed to help a lot. But Rachel
didn't say anything more about what had happened to her on the streets,
or even what had happened to the mysterious Marissa. Cassie wasn't pressing
the matter; the few times she'd asked questions Rachel had clammed up and
wouldn't speak until the subject was changed. For the time being, Cassie
was content to keep nursing Rachel back to health.
It was a few weeks
before Rachel finally convinced Cassie that she was well enough to satisfy
her Chinese craving. She didn't feel ready to be seen out in public yet,
so Cassie ordered in.
When the food came,
Rachel and Cassie took their boxes and chopsticks into Rachel's room and
spread the open boxes out on Rachel's bed so they could eat from whatever
looked interesting.
"I feel like I'm fifteen
again," Rachel said as she grabbed a piece of orange chicken. "We should
be wearing our pajamas and figuring out who to prank call."
"That sounds like something
Marco would have done," Cassie said.
"I wouldn't be surprised
if he still does. If a girl dumps him, he probably has a hundred pizzas
delivered to her place."
"And because she's
a model, she would probably faint at the sight of all that grease." Rachel
burst into giggles, while Cassie put a hand over her mouth to stifle hers.
"I can't believe I said that. That's awful."
"Hey, go with it. We're
pretending to be 15."
"Let's pretend to be
17."
Rachel stopped giggling.
"Cassie. We are 17."
"But we aren't living
like we're 17. 17 year olds don't pretend to be 15. 17 year olds don't
live on their own in lavish apartments, or have boyfriends four years older
than them."
"You have a boyfriend?"
Rachel gasped.
"Yeah. You met him
a few weeks ago and, uh, kind of scared him away," Cassie admitted.
"Oh." Rachel looked
down into the box of rice she had nestled between her legs. "Sorry."
"It's not your fault.
Ronnie understood completely. And it was my fault, really, for not calling
to cancel our date."
"What were you going
to do?"
"Spend a day out to
celebrate our six month anniversary."
"Aw. Have you rescheduled
yet?"
"No. I've been waiting
for you. To be able to be by yourself for awhile," Cassie added hesitantly.
Rachel frowned. "You
don't trust me yet?"
"Of course I do," Cassie
said quickly. "But you've had periods of weakness where you've needed someone's
help. I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if something happened to you
while I was out, especially if it was something as frivolous as a date."
"Dating someone you've
been with for six months isn't frivolous. And I'm doing a lot better now.
I'm eating good food," she popped a piece of chicken in her mouth to demonstrate,
"and I haven't thrown anything up in over a week," she added after chewing
and swallowing. "I'd say I'm cured."
"Well, I don't know
about cured," Cassie said slowly, "but I suppose I could call Ronnie and
we could go out for an hour or two."
"Yes. You deserve it.
I know I've been a pain -"
"No, you haven't."
Rachel smirked. "You
can't lie, Cassie. Anyway, I've been a pain to take care of, and I wouldn't
be surprised if there were times I was downright bitchy, but you didn't
give up and you have no idea how much that means to me."
"I would do it all
over again in a heartbeat."
Rachel blushed. "Well,
you're a better person than me. So, uh, will I get to meet this Ronnie
guy? Again, I guess."
"Of course you will.
In fact, I'll call him as soon as we finish lunch and tell him we're on
for this weekend. As long as he meets you properly first."
"Why wait till after
lunch?" Rachel reached across the food and gave Cassie a gentle push. "Call
him now. I'll leave you some rice or something."
"How generous of you,"
Cassie said dryly. But she hadn't had the chance to talk to Ronnie for
several days, so she gladly hopped off the bed and went to her own room.
But this was going to be Rachel's first day on her own since Cassie had found her. She wasn't going to screw it up by throwing up over a slight case of nerves.
Carefully, because she wasn't used to doing much on her own yet, Rachel got up, gathered a few of the clothes Cassie had bought her (only because Rachel had desperately needed clothes and hadn't been in a condition to go shopping) and shuffled to the bathroom for a long, hot shower. It was a new day and meeting Cassie's boyfriend would be the start of Rachel's first steps towards independence.
Cassie was standing at the stove in the kitchen when Rachel had finished her shower. "Good morning!" Cassie said cheerfully.
"Morning," Rachel said. "Did I wake you up?"
"Not really," Cassie admitted. "I didn't sleep much. I guess I'm kind of nervous."
"Nervous?"
Cassie sighed and turned off the stove. She brought a plate of waffles to the table and set it down before she sat. "Well, even if it is late, this is Ronnie's and my six month anniversary celebration. I think that's enough to cause nerves. And I'm worried about leaving you alone -"
"It's only for two hours!" Rachel protested.
"No one ever said nervousness was a logical emotion. And now you're going to meet Ronnie. I mean, really meet him. You're going to be the first person who really matters to me to meet him."
"You mean your parents haven't met him? They're half an hour away!"
"I know. But first I didn't want to bring someone home who I might leave within a week, or something. And then Ronnie's and my schedules became so hectic we were rarely in town on the same weekends."
"And then I came into the picture."
"Rachel, you have not been a burden to me," Cassie said emphatically. "I can't say I've really enjoyed every moment of your stay, but I wouldn't want you anywhere else. Now eat a waffle. Hopefully I got Mom's recipe right."
With Cassie gone, the apartment was suddenly intimidating to Rachel. She felt claustrophobic, yet nervous about the emptiness at the same time. She really wanted nothing more than to leave, but Cassie would have killed her, so she retreated to the familiarity of the guest bedroom instead.
With sunlight streaming through the windows, the room had grown uncomfortably hot. Rachel went to a window to pull down the shades, but first glanced down the twenty or so stories of the apartment building. Way down there was an alley, not unlike the ones Rachel vaguely remembered spending a few nights in at various times over the past year. There was a small group of kids down there, passing around a small object. It was a cylinder and when held at the right angle, sunlight glinted off a thin metal piece.
It's a syringe, Rachel recognized suddenly. And she knew exactly what those kids were injecting into their arms. She was hit with a craving so intense she actually moaned aloud and grasped the window sill to keep her balance. Without stopping to think about anything but the chance of having a shot, Rachel ran from the apartment and took the elevator down to the ground level.
Out on the street, it took Rachel a moment to remember what way her bedroom window faced, but after a moment she visualized it properly and found the alley.
The kids were still there. They looked panicked for a moment but when they realized the intruder was around their age they relaxed.
Rachel had to use all her self control to keep herself from grabbing the needle out of the nearest kid's hands. Instead, she sauntered up to them and asked casually, "Mind if I join?"
One boy, who looked to be the oldest, leered at Rachel. "What'll you give us?"
"Well, if your shit's any good, you'll find out, won't you?"
"Hey, I think I know you!" one of the kids said. Rachel hadn't seen him earlier. He was significantly smaller than the others. He couldn't have been more than 14. "You look like that Animorph chick on TV. What's her name? Rochelle?"
"Naw, it's Renee," a girl said.
"She ain't no Renee!"
"It ain't Rochelle neither!"
"Whatever her name is," Rachel broke in, "I'm not her, I swear. Would the savior of the planet be out here bumming shots? I just need one. I haven't had any for a long time."
The oldest boy filled the syringe, then handed it to Rachel. "What's your name?"
Rachel didn't answer while she concentrated on finding a suitable vein. She sighed with content when she found one and injected the whitish liquid. She could practically feel the heroin coursing through her system. "Uh, Sara," she said, remembering what she'd put on her fake ID. That afternoon seemed like a lifetime ago.
And it was.
Marissa's.
Rachel closed her eyes and shook her head. She didn't need to follow that train of thought. "Thanks for the hit, guys," Rachel said as she began to walk away.
"Wait, Sara." Rachel turned around. It was the older guy. Obviously the ring leader of this gang. "Stay awhile. Take a few more shots. This shit is better with company."
Rachel went back to the circle and found a spot to stand between the ring leader and the kid. "I couldn't agree more."
"Soon," Rachel mumbled. She remembered that. Just before Cassie left she'd said she'd see Rachel 'soon.' Rachel said goodbye to the group and, feeling better than she had in weeks, started back towards Cassie's apartment.
The doorman gave Rachel an odd look as she stumbled through the doors, but didn't say anything. He remembered Cassie bringing in this bedraggled woman almost two months ago, and he'd seen her run out earlier. She didn't really belong here, but Cassie would take care of her.
Rachel stopped the elevator at every floor to find Cassie's familiar looking one. Every floor looked pretty cool and some interesting people got on and off the elevator, but Cassie had a distinctive floor. Namely, her door was the only one on it. As Rachel got off the elevator and walked down the hall she wondered if Cassie got to decorate it, too.
Rachel stood for several minutes beside Cassie's door, tracing the flowing flowery pattern of the wallpaper with her index finger. If Cassie did do the decorating down this hall, Rachel decided, she hadn't chosen the wall paper. It was pretty, but too pink for Cassie's tastes.
Finally, the pattern flowed higher than Rachel could reach, so she turned her attention to the door. The wood grain made a cool pattern, too, but not as cool as the wall paper, so she just turned the door handle.
Or tried to.
The door was locked.
Rachel tried to remember if she'd locked it when she left. She didn't think so. She'd been too excited about meeting Mark and the others. Had Cassie come home already?
Rachel knocked on the door lightly. No one answered, so Rachel, figuring Cassie may have been in her bedroom (with Ronnie), knocked harder. Then banged on the door with her fist. When she still got no answer, Rachel began to pound with both fists, and occasionally with her feet and knees until she was suddenly too tired to stand. She put her back to the door, then sank quickly to the ground. She felt like crying, but then discovered the wall paper pattern went down to the floor, then there was an interesting pattern in the carpet. She'd never be bored again!
It didn't take long for Rachel to trace the wall paper pattern down to the floor. She'd begun to memorize it so she could anticipate every twist and turn. The carpet pattern was much more complex and random. When crawling around to find it, Rachel had to keep her nose close to the green carpet to follow the pink lines.
Rachel didn't look up until she heard the light ding signaling the opening of the elevator doors. Cassie stepped out and almost on to Rachel.
"What are you doing out here?" Cassie demanded.
"I think your door locks behind you."
"Of course it does," Cassie said. "But what were you doing outside of the apartment?" She leaned down and picked Rachel up by one arm.
"Uh, claustrophobia?"
Cassie inspected the inside of Rachel's right arm carefully. She didn't see anything suspicious, so she turned to Rachel's left arm. And there she found what she'd suspected: a trio of minute scabs on the inside of Rachel's elbow. "Oh, Rachel."
"Oh nothing," Rachel said, snatching her arm back. "Come on, let's go inside. I wanna talk."
"About what?" Cassie asked as she dug through her purse to find her keys.
"My day. Your day. Life in general. It'll be fun! Like, girl talk time."
Part of Cassie was glad to see Rachel have seemingly boundless energy. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen Rachel so excited. But then she had to remind herself that Rachel wasn't really happy. She was just really high.
"Come on inside," Cassie said with a sigh. She pushed open her door and held it open for Rachel. "Let's go talk in your room."
Rachel seemed to crash as soon as she laid down on the bed. Out in the hall she hadn't been able to stay still, but in here Cassie would have thought Rachel had fallen asleep if her eyes weren't open. And if she hadn't been talking. Slower now, but she still kept up a steady monologue.
"I had a lot of fun today. More than I have in months! See, I came back to my room after you left and looked out the window. There were a bunch of kids in the alley and they were passing a needle around. Well, you don't know what it's like to be so close yet so far away from your people, so I went out and joined them. It was fun. It reminded me of old times, with Marissa."
Cassie really didn't want to hear about Rachel's drug adventures, but she did want to know who Marissa was. "Will you tell me about Marissa?"
"Marissa was the best person on the streets. I've met lots of prostitutes out there and a lot of them are cool, but a lot are real bitchy. But Marissa was always real nice to me. I met her the first time I went out on my own."
"When was that?"
Rachel frowned. "I don't know. After I moved in with Tobias? A few months. See, after. . . everything, all was good. For about a month. I think. I kind of liked being called a hero and doing all the interviews." Rachel craned her neck back to look at Cassie. "Remember all the stuff we did then? It was what we'd been waiting for!" Cassie hadn't wanted anything to do with most of it, but she nodded to keep Rachel going.
"Then I guess the. . . the novelty wore off. I skipped interviews and I stopped doing those stupid correspondence courses Mom made me take. She kept saying I could get anywhere without a high school diploma, but I think she was forgetting I was a super hero. I finally got sick of her so I got my legal emancipation. It was really easy. I should have done it earlier. Anyway, I hooked up with Tobias and we found the only apartment we could afford, in what had to be the worst neighborhood in town."
Cassie nodded. Rachel couldn't see her, but she couldn't find the words to encourage Rachel to continue. That explains why she never invited us over.
"Tobias had his own stuff to do. He paints, y'know. And he's pretty good. He paid the bills, anyway. But I was bored. I'm not a politician or an entertainer. I can't crusade to save the rain forest. So, yeah, I was bored. I'd go wander through the neighborhood. I dyed my hair a couple of times so I wouldn't be recognized. I finally got to hang out with kids my own age. Don't you miss that?"
Cassie shrugged. "A little."
"Well, the best part about that neighborhood were the parties. There was one practically every night and there was plenty of alcohol. And sex." Rachel frowned. "Hmm. Here everything goes fuzzy. Y'know, I woke up after some of those parties with no idea where the hell I was. But while the buzz lasted it was fun. On the street I wasn't an Animorph. I was just Rachel. Or 'that chick', since most guys didn't bother to learn my name. And vice versa."
"It must be nice, not being recognized everywhere you go."
Rachel grinned broadly. "The advantage of being a recluse!" She frowned suddenly. "But then I stopped going to parties. They were all the same: small apartments filled with sweaty, stinking people with nothing but booze and sex on their minds. I like the booze. And the sex. But not the people. So I tried to get my own booze, but too many places carded and I usually didn't have money to tip someone for buying me some. So I started
to. . . well, if you're not standing on a street corner advertising yourself, are you really hooking?"
"I don't know. I never really thought about it," Cassie admitted.
"Yeah, well. I. . . I started staying out for, I don't know, a couple of days at a time? Tobias was driving me crazy. He didn't want me to have any fun. I caught him dumping out a six pack of beer in the sink once! So I'd keep staying out longer, and it was hard to find a place to sleep. I met Marissa one of my first times out over night. Once she knew I didn't want any of her men, she offered me her couch to sleep on. Marissa was better than any of the other women out there. They treated my stays like a never ending sleep over. But Marissa never asked me about my past and I never asked about hers. She didn't care how much I drank and offered to share her heroin stash with me. Though I never accepted. Until last time. That was the first time I ever, like, worked at her place, too. Well, first time I ever worked anywhere at anything for money. And you know what?" Rachel sat up suddenly and leaned close to Cassie's ear. "It was fun!" She collapsed back on the bed in a fit of giggles.
"Really?"
"Oh, come on, Cassie! You know sex is one of the funnest things on Earth! Especially when you've got a nice buzz going. And when you're with a stranger, you can be whoever you want and do whatever you want."
Cassie had a dozen questions to ask Rachel, but most sounded too judgmental, or were too complicated, for Rachel to handle in her present state. "So. . . how did no one recognize you?"
Rachel shrugged. "It was dark? I certainly wasn't dressed like I did on TV. When I was dressed at all." She giggled again.
"Rachel. . . do you think you could tell me now what happened to Marissa?"
Rachel's giggles abruptly stopped and she grew so still and her face was so blank Cassie was afraid she'd made Rachel clam up again. She was just about to assure Rachel she didn't have to talk when Rachel began to speak. Slowly, quietly, in a voice that didn't seem like it could come from the girl who'd been laying there a moment ago.
"It was my night to use Marissa's room. I had one of Marissa's regulars and he really liked rough sex, y'know? So most of my attention was focused on him. But. . . I think. . . I remember Marissa had a guy in the living room. No, I know she had a man with her. She kept begging him to stop. Crying for help. Telling him. . . I think. . . she'd have it later."
Rachel stopped speaking, so Cassie filled the sudden silence. "What was 'it'?"
Silence again for a moment. "I don't know," Rachel finally admitted. "I didn't do anything because I've heard Marissa work before. It's sick how many men came and they didn't care what she did as long as she screamed and begged for mercy."
"Did they ever do that to you?"
"They never asked for it expressly," Rachel admitted slowly. "But that last night. . . I think I did. Partly to drown out Marissa. I never liked to hear her like that."
Cassie wasn't surprised to see Rachel begin to cry. She put a hand on Rachel's shoulder. "You don't have to tell me anymore."
"Yes I do!" Rachel sobbed. "When I got up the next morning I. . . I got a drink. Then went to the couch. She wasn't supposed to still be there. It was late. She always got up early. So I went to her. She wouldn't wake up. I told her to wake up. Wake up, Marissa! Wake up!" Rachel was nearly in hysterics now. "I shook her. And she moved. She had a needle in her arm. Like she'd just taken a shot? But then I saw. . . purple marks on her neck." Rachel put her hands to her throat, fingers spread apart like the bruises on her friend's neck had been. "You really did need help," she said, suddenly quiet. It took Cassie a moment to realize Rachel must have been talking to Marissa. "You needed help. He. . . he killed you. Why? Why did you bring him up? Why didn't you come get me?" Rachel was sobbing again.
Cassie pulled Rachel up so she could hug her close. "It's all right now, Rachel. You couldn't do anything, it's not your fault."
"You don't know what it was like! Her eyes were. . . and her skin!"
"Shh. It's all right now. I want you to go to sleep. We'll talk more later."
Rachel clamped her arms tightly around Cassie's neck. "Don't leave me," she begged into Cassie's shoulder.
Cassie carefully pried off Rachel's arms. "You lay down and I promise I'll sit right next to you."
Rachel reluctantly lay down, but kept a firm grip on one of Cassie's hands. Her eyes closed as soon as her head hit the pillow, but she stayed awake long enough to murmur, "I'll protect you, Cassie."