Through Other People's Eyes

by Steph

Part 3

"Are you okay?" Dora asked Lane that Friday at lunch. She sounded concerned.

"Yeah," Lane lied. In fact, she was not okay. She and Dave were breaking up. She could feel it.

"What are you listening to?" Dora asked.

"Mad World," Lane replied unfastening her Walkman and turning the volume up. Dora leaned in close so she could hear.

"That's uplifting," Dora said sarcastically. "What's it from?"

"Donnie Darko," Lane answered. "The song's a remake, but it's probably where you know it from."

"Oh yeah," Dora said. "I kind of recognize it. That movie was all kinds of messed up."

Lane only nodded and put the Walkman in her backpack. She liked Dora a lot, considered her one of her best friends at school, but didn't want to talk. She wanted to listen to her depressing music, sleepwalk through her afternoon classes and go to work. She absently picked at her Band-Aid.

"You know you can tell me what's been bothering you," Dora said quietly. Despite the fact that she was constantly being reprimanded for dress code violations and talked back to teachers when she felt like it, she had a warm, maternal quality that Lane often appreciated. Today it only made her want to weep.

"I'm serious," Dora said. "Kristen said you seemed really out of it and sad during class. We're both concerned. You can talk to us. Is it your mom?" Lane occasionally told Mrs. Kim stories, much to Kristen and Dora's amusement. Only the funnier ones; she didn't want to scar her new friends.

"No," she said. "My mom's the same." She felt herself crumbling under Dora's kind gaze. She wasn't used to this kind of attention and it made her uncomfortable.

Dora tried one last time. "Is it Dave?"

And that's all it took. Lane nodded and said softly, "I think he has a new girlfriend in California. We're probably going to break up soon." Against her will, her eyes stung with a few tears. She quickly blinked them away.

"Oh, Lane, I'm so sorry," Dora said sympathetically.

"Thanks," Lane said. Then to change the subject she quickly asked, "Where's Kristen?"

"Right over there. Looks like she bought lunch." Dora waved her over.

Kristen plopped down next to the two of them. "Feeling better, Lane?"

"No," Lane responded honestly.

"Dave may have another girlfriend," Dora said.

"Bastard," Kristen said shaking her head. "Shall we plan a Christmas road trip to California and break his scrawny little legs?"

Lane laughed and wiped her eyes. "He's not scrawny."

"We saw your prom pictures. He's scrawny."

"That's not nice," Dora said to Kristen. She turned to Lane. "You two looked very nice in those prom pictures."

"I didn't go to prom," Kristen volunteered. "My boyfriend came out a week before prom and decided he didn't want to go."

"Really?" Dora asked. "I didn't know that."

"Yeah," Kristen said. "I still talk to him occasionally. But enough about that, what are you two doing tonight?"

"Working," Lane said. "Then going home."

"There's a party tonight. Christa's place on Birch. It supposed to be great. We all should go."

"Sounds good," Dora said. "She throws really fun parties. Up for it, Lane?"

"I can't," Lane replied automatically. "My mom wouldn't let me." It was her common refrain. She might as well have it tattooed on her forehead in case someone forgot.

"Lane, you're eighteen," Kristen said. "And it's a Friday night. She doesn't expect you to sit at home every weekend, does she?"

"Even if I could go, I don't have a car."

"I have a car," Dora said. "Kris has a car. Either one of us could pick you up or we can all go together."

"You should just ask her," Kristen said. "She may surprise you."

"She won't. Trust me."

When it was time for afternoon classes, the three of them walked toward the academic buildings.

Before they entered their respective classes, Kristen handed Lane a folder. "The newly-edited chapter seven of the saga. A chapter that's all about death. It'll really cheer you up."

Lane smiled in spite of herself. "Thanks."

"And give either one of us a call if you change your mind about tonight. Christa's parties are always a blast."

Even though she knew there was no way in hell she'd be able to go, Lane nodded. "Okay. Thanks."

It was slow again at Luke's ("Damn Taylor and his Christmas festivals," Luke had grumbled) and after refilling ketchup containers and napkin canisters, she found Kristen's story and began to read, careful to keep looking toward the door in case someone else arrived.

"Drake, where were you?" Simone asked worriedly. "I told you to come straight here." It was only at that moment that Simone noticed how pale and distracted he looked. "What's wrong?" she asked worriedly. "Where were you?"

After a few seconds of tense silence, Drake said, "I saw Millie Jones and she stopped to talk."

"Millie Jones?" Simone asked, her voice breaking. "Oh, Drake, you know it wasn't Millie Jones. Millie's been dead for years. Her husband murdered her. You know that."

"It was her. She stopped me and told me that she missed all of us. And she asked about you and your family. And she told me---"

"What?" Simone asked, her voice unnaturally high. "What did Millie Jones tell you?"

"She told me that as long as your mother was alive, she would never let us be together."

"No, that's wrong. She's coming around."

"Millie said that if I truly loved you, I'd have to get rid of your mother."

Simone stepped away from him in shock. "No, Millie would never say that. She was like a sister to me. She loved my mother."

"She told me what to do to your mother. Where to find her, what to use."

"What are you saying?" Simone asked. She couldn't' believe that what he was saying was true.

"Millie was always smart. She was right. And I followed her instructions to a tee."

"No," she said. It was then she noticed the spot on his shirt. Blood. She had been seeing that a lot lately.

"Now there's nothing to stop me from marrying you, Simone," Drake said. "No one to stop. If anyone tries, I'll do the same thing that I did to your mother, the same thing Millie did to me…"

"What did she do to you?" Simone said, even though she knew.

He didn't answer only came frighteningly close…

"What are you reading?" Luke asked her.

She looked down, as embarrassed as if she had been caught with soft core porn. "A story my friend Kristen wrote."

"It's pretty dead here. I can show you how to make French fries if you want."

She tried to smile and sound excited as she said. "Okay."

He shrugged his shoulders. "It's about all I can offer."

She wondered if there was an aura of depression about her. She didn't usually believe in things like auras. People in California believed in auras. Girls named Aimee who lived in California believed in auras. "Thanks," she said in what she hoped was a convincing voice. "I want to learn."

"It's not rocket science," he said. He shook out the frozen fries into the basket. "Then they go into the oil. Wait a little bit. Just look at them. Wait till they get kind of dark…not too dark…well you know what done fries look like."

She nodded. "Do you ever fry other things? Like Oreos or candy bars? You know to mix things up a little?"

He looked disgusted. "No, certain people wanted me to add crap like that to the menu, but I refused."

She went back to the front of the diner when the bell tinkled. A blond woman in a suit sat down at the counter. Nicole.

"Hi, Nicole," Lane said to her. "What can I get for you?"

"Hey Lane," she said pleasantly. "A burger's good. It's pretty dead, here, huh?"

"Yep. Luke was showing me how to work the fryer."

Nicole smiled. "That's just how we spent our second date."

"Really?" Lane asked wrinkling her nose.

"No, I'm kidding," Nicole said. "Speaking of dates, why does Luke have you working here on a Friday night? Do you want me to talk to him for you?"

"No," Lane said, not wanting to get in trouble or to get Luke in trouble. "It's okay. I don't have any plans…no dates. In fact…" No, she was not going to start crying about her problems.

"In fact what?" Nicole asked curiously. "I'm interested. And as a lawyer and as a wife, I would like to know if Luke is breaking any labor laws."

Lane flushed, embarrassed. "No, it's just my boyfriend is in California so even if I wasn't working, I wouldn't be doing anything other than reading and listening to music at home. Although I was invited to a party. I won't be allowed to go though."

"Oh," Nicole said excitedly. "My best friend lives in Sacramento. Where does your boyfriend live?"

Who knew if he still was her boyfriend. "He's in Whittier. He goes to Whittier College."

"Like Nixon," Nicole said.

"Yes," Lane said.

"You should go out to California," Nicole said. She pulled her coat tighter around her body. "I bet it's a lot warmer."

"Except I might be interfering with him and his new girlfriend," Lane said before she could stop herself. She was immediately sorry. She hated when she couldn't control her mouth.

"I'm sorry, Lane," Nicole said immediately.

Better to play it off like she hadn't said anything. "Let me get that burger for you. Fries?"

"Sure," Nicole said. "Thanks."

Later that shift, Luke walked up to Lane. "Look it's empty and it's a Friday night. You can leave a little earlier."

"I'll stay," Lane said.

"Nicole told me what you told her," he said, his voice quieter. "Go home. You can come in earlier tomorrow if you want."

She reluctantly agreed. If she didn't leave, she might start crying again. And she really didn't want that.

She walked home, Kristen's story hugged tight to her chest. Kristen. She immediately thought of the party and instantly, inexplicably had a strong desire to go. Kristen and Dora were right. She was eighteen; she shouldn't spend every Friday night alone with a book. It wasn't healthy.

In the olden days, she would have come up with an elaborate plan, involving sympathetic neighbors and decoys. She would have made up important exams, sickly friends, cultural or religious events that would benefit her well-being.

But tonight she was emotionally drained and wasn't thinking enough for complex plots. She walked into her house and said to her mother. "I'm going out tonight."

"Where?" Her mother asked immediately. "Who with?"

"My friends from school. We're going to hang out at another friend's house."

"Party," Mrs. Kim spat out as if it were poison. "No party."

"I'm eighteen," Lane said. "I spent every night of the week studying and working. I deserve this."

"You deserve boys? And drugs? You'll stay home."

Lane knew she should be fighting her mother more on this, but she didn't. She didn't have the energy. She only said quietly, "Fine."

She began the walk up the stairs to her bedroom. She could feel her mother's eyes on her; her mother wasn't used to instant submission.

Lane turned around and said softly. "I won't go tonight, Mama, but you're wrong. I do deserve to be with my friends."

Lane stayed in her room all night and her mother didn't ask Lane to come down.

Dave had called earlier that day, apologizing for not calling yesterday, blaming finals.

Lane fell asleep without getting that message.

To be continued…