Twenty.
Dawn
My head was absolutely pounding, when I decided to lie down for a few minutes. I'd spent the entire day pretending everything was okay, unwilling to let my friends worry about me. I just want to forget it happened. I don't even know what I did, not really. I know that I thought I had done too much, and I remember looking through the medicine cabinet in the bathroom down the hall, trying to find something, anything to calm me down.
I guess I took too much. Trent told me that John (and it is John, not Jay or Mike) had freaked out because I just fell on the bed, passed out, and he could not wake me up. All I know is the next thing I remember is waking up in my room and it's light outside, Mary Anne's sacked out next to me. I woke her up for a groggy explanation, and she even apologized for what she had said to me the night before. We'd spent about an hour laying in bed talking. She told me about Trent, what she did, and she wasn't quite sure how she felt. Then I'd insisted on going out on the beach. All day long everyone asked if I was okay and I replied yes, fine, fine. Some of them, like Stacey, looked at me a little suspiciously.
Rightfully so.
Somewhere around ten in the morning, when Mary Anne had left me to get her bathing suit on, I had pulled out my stash and done two lines. Because my head screamed. Because I had to. Because I am an addict.
I had come in my room this time for the same reason, and after I'd done it decided to lie down, let my headache go away, wait for it to kick in. When I heard Mary Anne start yelling I was starting to feel it. When I heard Mallory answer, I bolted upright.
Things were coming to a head, it seemed.
I immediately tore out of my room and followed the sound of shouts and screams. In the livingroom I found the situation. Mary Anne, red faced and snarling, with Trent loosely holding her back from Mallory, who was backed up against the wall, wide-eyed but also snarling. Stacey stood between the two, shouting for them to calm down. Claudia simply watched, not looking too shocked.
"Calm down! Mary Anne, you have no right to-" Stacey was shouting.
"You don't know what you're talking about!" My sister shouted. "Why did you lie, Mallory? Why didn't you tell anyone? Why all the secrets? I cannot believe he's..." Mary Anne spun around, her hand on her cheek. Her eyes met mine. She looked horrified. "Dawn, what if... what if..."
I know what she wanted to say. What if he hurts her, too? She couldn't though, not out loud. She didn't want people to know. It was her deepest, darkest secret. I wanted to shout at her to just say it, tell everyone, because they think she's jealous, but I couldn't. I respect what my sister wants.
"I lied because Logan knew you would be jealous. I knew you would be, too." Mallory said haughtily. "Get over it, Mary Anne. The best won."
"Mal, I don't think you-" Stacey began.
"You keep your big mouth shut! I told you that in confidence! I'm never speaking to you again!"
Stacey didn't appear devastated. "Fine." She spat, taking a step back. "Let Mary Anne beat you to a pulp. Let Logan control your life. Keep saving your money, you never know when you'll need another abortion."
I heard a gasp from behind me. It's Kristy. I looked around the room in horror. Everyone stood still, staring at Mallory openmouthed.
Finally, Mary Anne moved. She turned away, toward me, toward the kitchen. She looked green. The rest of us remained, staring at Mallory. Waiting, I guess. Waiting for her to deny it. Not wanting it to be true.
Mallory stood strong. She looked confident. For the first time, I noticed her eyes looked blank. Uncaring. Vacant.
I wondered how long they had been that way.
I wondered if Mary Anne ever looked like that.
Slowly, Stacey walked away as well. Then Claudia. Mallory scoffed. "Yeah, go be friends with the loser."
That did it.
I lunged at Mallory. I felt a little bad for her, yeah, but something in my brain just snapped. I'm one hundred and ten percent positive the drugs contributed. Mal screamed as I landed on her, and I hooked her pretty good in the right eye. I could feel hands on me as I reached for her neck, and suddenly I felt myself fly, and looked around in a bit of a daze as the room sailed by. I landed on the couch with an "Ooof," a little dazed.
Alan and Trent were both looking at me, wide eyed, out of breath.
"You okay?" Alan asked, looking a little scared.
"Yeah..." I stood up, glaring at Mallory, who was now sitting on the floor with her head in her hands. I looked back at the guys. They both looked a little shaken. I realized with a start that they had both had to pull me off of her. "I'm... I'm sorry, guys." I said, a little scared of myself.
"You should lay off that shit, Dawn." Trent replied, trying to sound good-natured. He meant it.
Sighing, I shook my head and quickly walked to the kitchen, where Mary Anne sat at the table looking similar to Mallory, her head in her hands. She was surrounded by Kristy, Stacey and Claudia. I joined them, sliding into the second to last empty chair. Trent and Alan just stood back.
We were all quiet.
I looked around the table, at my friends. They all looked tired. Tired and... older. I looked at them all fondly, wondering if this might be the last time the five of us would ever be together. Because I no longer wanted to be in Sea City. I wanted to go home. I wanted to sit down with my mother, I wanted to cry in her arms, and I wanted to check myself into rehab. Because I have never in my life been a violent person. I had just attacked a sixteen-year-old, and it had taken two grown men to get me off of her.
Everyone at that table looked pretty weary. I had no doubt in my mind they were thinking similar thoughts.
It's time to go home. This is not working.
Then again, it's never really worked. We've always fought. We've always made up. We're all so different, and we always have been. It's amazing that we were ever friends in the first place. I smiled to myself, imagining what would have happened if Abby, Jessi, and Shannon were here, too. We'd probably all have killed each other by now. In the past, we've gotten through our differences. Things are different now. Our problems are not over haircuts and clothing styles.
We've grown up.
"We should call Mal's parent's." Our fearless leader spoke first, as always. As soon as she said it I heard small sniffles coming from the livingroom. I felt a little guilty, but perhaps I had knocked some sense into her.
Stacey nodded, wide-eyed. "If you guys only knew everything I did..." She shook her head. "That guy is sick. Just... sick. There's something wrong with him. Poor Mallory..." Stacey glanced toward the sound of sniffles. "She doesn't seem to have any idea. It's like he's brainwashed her."
Nothing, said Mary Anne.
"Maybe we should let that be her choice." Claudia responded. "If Mallory chooses to be with Logan..."
"She's choosing to be with a controlling, manipulative rapist. We have to call her parents." I replied vehemently.
"Rapist?" Claudia asked.
"Well, she is only sixteen," Stacey pointed out.
"That's not what she meant." Mary Anne said slowly. Carefully.
The quiet in the house, broken only by our low voices and Mallory's sniffles, was suddenly filled by a thumping bass line. The seven of us in the kitchen looked toward the window and watched as Pete Black's truck rolled to a stop.
Mary Anne stood up, looking around. I stood up with her.
"I should have just kept my mouth shut..." Trent said, looking both worried and a little excited. I glanced at Stacey, who immediately looked at the floor. Stacey had told Trent, Trent had told Mary Anne. But why had Stacey told trent?
Mary Anne continued to search for something, and then strode toward the door. On her way she casually picked up a tennis racket off of the counter.
"What did you mean, Dawn?" Claudia spoke to me, but watched Mary Anne. I did, too. I heard two slams of car doors. Mary Anne tensed.
The front door opened, and I could hear Logan's slow, rumbling laugh. He cut short.
"Mal?" I heard him ask. "Hey? You okay?"
Mary Anne charged out of the room, tennis racket in hand.
As she ran, her voice carried back to us, exposing Logan for what he is.
She no longer cared who knew, I guess.