A/N: Happy Thanksgiving!
I'll probably be editing this chapter later, but here are the bare bones.
CHAPTER NOT BETA'D

APoV

Friday, March 12, 2004

"…this is a reminder that all returning Sophomores must complete their Random Acts of Socialization projects before the school year begins. Don't wait 'til the last minute, Ladies and Gentlemen; The early bird catches the worm…"

The voice from the PA system has repeated the same message for the past week, yet we have months to go before this school year concludes. Let's just hope that they remind us again before we actually leave school for the summer. I cannot believe they're expecting us to write letters to people we don't know. This town is small enough without risking our safety. Whose bright idea was this?

I feel terrible. The little headache from this morning is excruciating now and I have developed a stomach ache to boot. I feel like I'm going to vomit. Please don't let me vomit in Biology. Please don't let me vomit in Biology. It's just a frog. I finish labelling the last part of the organ system with a sigh. I'm not nauseous because of the class. It's the darn stomach flu that Katie gifted the school with. Her parents should've named her Mary because she's infected almost everyone, one class period at a time; now she's prancing around campus in the peak of health. Witch. I'm not going to make it to lunch. What's left? Gym, AP Algebra with Trig, Honors English and study hall. Frack! I'm going to vomit in Biology.

Stomach convulsing, everything hurting so badly… Is this what appendicitis feels like? I feel like something is about to burst. Making my way to the front of the classroom, away from the lab tables, I collapse into my seat at my desk. "Ms. Steele?" a voice calls out as I fall to the floor. "Annie?"

I wake up in the nurse's office, clammy and disoriented. Looking up, Mrs. Smith the school nurse bustles around the room, grabbing a file from the cabinet, and when she sees me, she exclaims, "Ah, good, you're awake! We tried to contact your mother, but there wasn't an answer, so we called your father; he should be here in just a few minutes."

Make that no minutes, as Ray bursts into the office, his face creased in concern. "Daddy!" I whimper. "It hurts everywhere."

"Nurse Smith? What should we do?" he inquires.

"Well, it seems Annie finally caught a touch of that stomach flu that's been going around. It's a virus, so there's nothing much to do really, but wait it out and drink plenty of liquids. No caffeine. Ginger or peppermint tea will help with the nausea. Don't eat heavy foods. Avoid serving Ana any foods that might overly tax her digestive system. Bananas, rice, applesauce and toast are her best bet, but leave the meat and dairy alone. Rest is the best medicine. She can take Acetaminophen for pain and fever if she needs it," she recited. She must have been doling out this advice for the past week.

Looking to me, she said, "I'm sorry, Annie. We know how much our little valedictorian loves school, but we want you well."

"I'm not valedictorian, Nurse Smith," I demurred.

"You are if you stay on track for the next three years, missy. Don't tell anyone I told you, but you're a shoe-in, especially with that KR2K program you suggested to the library and your 4.0 GPA. You're a good egg."

I hadn't thought about it much. I had seen a need and it's disgraceful that so many kids don't know how to read when we have such a good school and public library system here. Besides, just because a child can't read doesn't mean they shouldn't experience the benefits of a good book. There was one boy in my class that we found had dyslexia the first week of the Kids Read to Kids program. His parents kept thanking me over and over 'til I began avoiding them every time I saw them. David is just so wicked smart that his intelligence masked it for years, I guess.

"We got all your books and assignments together for you to take home," she said, handing my overloaded backpack to Ray. "If you listen to your daddy, we'll see you bright and early this Monday."

"It's Montesano, Nurse Smith. You'll see me pale gray and early."

She probably laughed at my lame joke because she felt sorry for me. My dad and I left the nurse's office and walked directly to the truck. "I already signed you out, Annie. VIP-only service for my baby girl," he said, hugging me gently to his side and patting my back comfortingly. "How 'bout we swing around to the store and grab some of that stuff the nurse told us you need?"

"'K. Daddy," I said weakly, leaning my head against the cool window.

Minutes later, the backseat loaded with all manner of health food, Ray pops back into the driver's seat and we're on our way home. Pulling up in the driveway, we see my mom's little car. I hope she didn't get sick, too. She's a terrible patient.

"I got you this while I was in the store," Dad says, handing me a small bag containing two new books, Chasing Vermeer by Blue Balliett and A Hat Full of Sky by Terry Pratchett. "Dad, I was at the store just yesterday, and they didn't have them in."

"I, uh, called in an order for them last week. I know they're way below your reading level, but you've checked out similar books and I know you like that Discworld stuff…" he said, trailing off.

He remembered, I thought, as tears filled my eyes. "Thank you, daddy, "I said thickly, swiping the tears away. It must be hard dealing with a child who loves Austen, the sisters Brontë and Hardy, yet he hasn't forgotten that I adore fantasy, mystery and science fiction, too.

As he opened the door for me, I heard moaning and groaning. I stumbled in, racing into the living room, thinking I'd find my mom as sick and wretched as me. Instead, she was laid back on the couch moaning with her head thrown back as Mr. Morton from the general store was moving between her legs, groaning in concert.

I could just stand there, frozen in shock as they continued having sex right in front of me. On our couch. Dad came in, loaded down with groceries, walking briskly towards the kitchen. I guess he must've seen something from the corner of his eye, because he suddenly halted, dropping the groceries on the floor.

That sound roused them and my mom just looked at us, while Mr. Morton got off of her and pulled his pants up that were hanging around his ankles. She just sat up and rearranged her skirt. I don't even think she was wearing panties. Nope, she wasn't wearing panties because I'm standing on them. Ew! Mr. Morton just strolled out the front door while I ran to my room, slamming the door. This has been hands-down the worst day of my life.

"What the hell were you thinking, Carla?" my father suddenly explodes. I could hear his voice reverberating through the floorboards. "In my house? Where my daughter sleeps? Why would you do this? How?!"

"I haven't been happy for a long time, Ray. And you two weren't supposed to be home until six," she said, as if that was supposed to make any difference. At least she finally answered the question about trees falling in the forest without witnesses. I suppose we're expected to believe that she never had sex with Mr. Morton at our house on our couch. Ew! I've fallen asleep on that couch! My face has been pressed against those cushions! I need bleach! And a clean room with a chemical shower!

"Three generations, Carla. My grandfather built this house with his own two hands! His, blood, sweat and tears went into its very foundation! But I guess I can't expect you to respect my home since you don't possess a smidgeon of respect for yourself!"

"You sanctimonious son of a bitch! How dare you judge me? You work all day, and you and Ana don't even come home until after five in the evening. We never go anywhere. I'm trapped here!" she retorted.

"That's your choice. There's nothing stopping you from getting a job except the fact that you wouldn't be able to fuck random assholes in my goddamn house! That, and the fact that Montesano's too damn small to give you a corner to work!"

"You bastard! You callin' me a whore?"

"If the thong fits… You almost made Annie a bastard acting like the base bicycle… If it wasn't for the fact that I threatened Frank with a dishonorable discharge, he never would've married you. He was willing to go AWOL to escape you. He was so angry and hungover the day Annie was born, realizing there was no denying his spitting image in the cot and she was his baby after all, I'm only amazed he didn't blow us all up and you're worried that I'm accusing you of being a whore? The whole fucking town knows you're a slut. You're not disciplined enough to be a whore. Whores get paid. You spread yourself like Hellman's for free!"

Smack!

"That's one's free, Carla. Go clean yourself up. If you can."

"Fuck you! Let go of me!"

"Gladly! A dirty mouth on a filthy slut really doesn't surprise me. The best thing you've ever done in your entire goddamn life is give birth to Annie! And whatever goodness Annie left behind ran down your leg with the afterbirth!"

I go inside my closet, closing the door and sliding into the corner while covering my ears. I could've lived my whole life without this information. I knew some of the townsfolk sneered at Carla a little bit and tended to avoid her, but I never thought they considered her promiscuous on top of everything else. I just assumed that they were put off by her flirtatious demeanor.

She's never been precisely motherly, but I always figured she'd at least be an extra body in the event that someone broke into the house. I don't know this woman at all. How she could just so calmly and cavalierly sit there after destroying our family, and have the nerve to act as if everything was fine, when I knew nothing would ever be the same again. Did she think Dad would take this crap laying down? No man would accept this kind of behavior unless he enjoyed being a cuckold.

Dad had never snapped at anyone like that before. He was always the voice of reason, the peacemaker and a very wise person; so when he dropped the f-bomb, you could've knocked me over with a feather. By the time I stopped listening (or simply overhearing at the volume they were going at it), it was a TKO.

"Annie. Annie, honey. Come to bed. You're going to catch your death of cold!" Dad coaxed and fussed in equal measure. I had fallen asleep in the closet. I felt stiff, but I no long felt quite as nauseous as I did in school. I was also famished because I didn't even make it to lunch. Dad had placed a cup of hot ginger tea on my nightstand along with a sleeve of saltines and a large glass of water. "This should tide you over for tonight. We'll get you fixed up in the morning."

"But you have work…," I began.

"Where is my treasure, Annie?" Dad gently chides.

"In here," I reply, pointing to my heart.

"Exactly! And what kind of a dad would I be if I couldn't take one day off work to help my best girl get well?"

"You would never do that!" I exclaim.

"You're gosh-darn skippy!" he said, giving me a light squeeze and briefly brushing his lips against my forehead.


To: chrisdottanner at hotmaildotcom

From: callmeannieo at hotmaildotcom

Date: Mon, Aug 23, 2004 at 3:53 PM

Subject: RE: Some Little Girls…

Chris:

Thank you for e-mailing me! When I didn't get a response, this 'little girl' thought either the letter was lost, damaged or nobody cared. Besides, my mother (like you predicted) did get married to Three, so it's possible I would've missed a letter since we moved away in July. This guy is such a tool! We moved to Texas for his great job opportunity; get this, he's a management trainee at another store just as small as the one back home!

You're right about the amount of info I put in the first letter. I wrote it when I was very angry and humiliated by everything Carla had done and I guess I was lashing out. I was 'not in a good place' as my Dad would say.

I can't believe that girl/woman/skank tried to trap you into a relationship by getting pregnant! OK, that's not true. I can believe it, but man that would've sucked major monkeyballs (since we're excusing French)! And I'll have you know that Prince is a very good role model because he turned 'scandalous' into a household word. Carla and your skank are scandalous.

scan·dal·ous

skandləs /

adjective: scandalous

causing general public outrage by a perceived offense against morality or law.

i.e. "a series of scandalous liaisons"

synonyms: discreditable, disreputable, dishonorable, improper, unseemly, sordid; antonyms: proper, seemly

The best response would probably be to just put her in your rear view, but I hope you made her pay. I see so many kids from broken homes and she wanted to purposely bring a child into a loveless one just because she's bonkers, you might look good and/or have a nice job? I can't respect that. It would be different if you guys really loved each other and it just happened, but she was trying to take away your choices.

I know of which I speak, too. I heard Carla tried to trap my bio-dad, but he had the last laugh; he married her, but since he died the day I was born, he never had to live up to his responsibilities. Instead, Ray swooped in to save the day, and me, I suppose. Dad told me that Carla had a really bad case of post-partum depression after I was born, but it seems as if she never got over it.

I'm sorry it took so long for me to reply, but I had to handle so much stuff on my end that it's not funny. Did you know I had to arrange to have my records forwarded from Montesano High because Carla couldn't be arsed to do it? She claimed that she forgot. Maybe she shouldn't have been so anxious to drag me from pillar to post, then so many things wouldn't have fallen through the cracks. She barely had enough documentation to get me registered for school.

They had me placed in all these remedial classes, so I had to send off for my own records which took forever since Ray couldn't sign for them since he never legally adopted me. As if that was his fault. Carla was the one who changed my name but didn't let him adopt me. But I'll show her! I just found out that an adult can be adopted, so I'm going to ask Ray to adopt me when I'm 21. Raymond Steele is my daddy forever!

We've settled in Nash, Texas and Chris, there is only one high school! I attend Texas High. The place is so generic that they just named it after the whole state! For the first two weeks of school, I could practically teach the classes they put me in. There is NO WAY I'd ever want to be a teacher if that's what they have to put up with! Four of the girls in just one of my classes are pregnant. I guess everything really is bigger in Texas including the teen pregnancy rate. Note to self: avoid all boys while I'm here. And the water (jusk kidding). Apparently, there are worse things than cooties and I have absolutely no interest in pushing something the size of a watermelon out of a hole the size of a lemon. They made us watch a childbirth video in Remedial Health. I liked 'Saw' better. The good news is that I'll have a lot of kids to babysit if I decide to do that as a sideline…NOT!

I have to e-mail you from home or the library because the only computer is in Carla and Three's bedroom. He tells me it's ok for me to do my homework in there if I need to, but I'd much rather do it at school. And he rifles through our mail, too! Ray told me he had sent a letter, but Carla claimed she hadn't seen it. I found it when I was cleaning the house. Three got mad and accused me of rambling through his stuff, though he had told me to clean their bedroom and the letter was on their dresser beneath a huge pile of junk mail. He's not exactly on the side of the angels here.

I told Ray he should just e-mail me from now on because our postal service is unreliable. I hope he got the hint because I'd hate to miss out on his letters. When I was back home, I used to get an allowance for cleaning the house, taking out the trash and doing the lawn, but that doesn't happen here. Apparently, it's my job to do it and I have to 'earn my keep' but I had an even better idea; I told Three he and Carla could just let me go home and then I wouldn't cost them anything at all. Um, the results of that conversation were not good, so I won't be revisiting it any time soon.

I wrote to Ray about you, mostly; I told him that you were the pen-pal I made from the Random Act of Socialization project and that you were interested in communications, but I didn't tell him how old you were. I'm not sure it would go over well, but in a way, it's the school's fault for assigning it in the first place. For all they knew, my letter could've ended up in the hands of someone who couldn't or wouldn't write me back.

Thanks to your reply, I was able to fill out their little questionnaire; it was so dumb.

Did you receive a reply to your letter? YES

Was your letter answered by someone of the same sex? NO

Would you be willing to write this person again? YES

How far did your letter travel? ~98.9 miles

Did your give something of yourself? Sure, I gave the recipient a handmade wooden keepsake box that I made myself.

What have you learned from this experience? I learned that it's dangerous to expect kids to write total strangers and that life sucks no matter where you are.

What would you change about the project (if applicable)? First, I wouldn't encourage minors to send what amounts to messages in a bottle into what's been proven to be a rather hostile universe without so much as a parental permission slip. What if something bad had happened to one or more of us as a result of this project? Who would have been held legally liable? Second, I would've had the students write to students who are long-term cancer wards across Washington or perhaps to the parents who might have also just lost a child. If anyone needed a letter, it would be them. The problem with your project is that your instructions specified that the letters must be sent to perfect strangers. I don't know about you, but once you categorize people, they can no longer truly be 'strangers' because we all belong somewhere among the diaspora and are known to someone, even if it's just ourselves. What's more, no-one is perfect so your project goals failed at the outset.

Turns out that I got 50 out of 50 points for my summer project that can be applied absolutely…drumroll please…nowhere! Not that I'm not glad to have met you, but it seems like they just gave us busy work to keep us out of trouble, and just humored us by letting us pretend to have more control of the situation than we ever did. Once my letter left my hands, I no longer had any say in what happened to it. I hate having my intelligence insulted. The only thing worse than that is wasting my time.

Oh! And that reminds me of something rather gross that I felt I should warn you about. Just like I couldn't control where my letter ended up, you can't control what your sperm cells do once they leave your body. So, wrap it before you tap it. Please. If you get an STD and die, you won't be able to write me anymore, so safety first!

I'm thinking of cutting off about a half a foot of hair. This is like the twentieth time some guy has called me Rapunzel and offered to climb into my tower with me. Besides, if I don't brush it a million times and braid it before bed, I end up looking like a tangled up Cousin Itt. And don't mention the mean girls who try to put stuff in it when my back is turned. The month before school let out, someone put a piece of gum in my hair. I had to ice it for an hour to get the gum hard enough to crumble so I could get it out.

So, what do you think? Should I cut some off? I attached a photo so you can see the before. Don't worry; it's just a pic of my hair. I know some kids are posting images of themselves in the buff on the 'net, but that's NOT for me. It would really suck to cut my hair because I wanted to dress up as Princess Leia or Queen Amidala for Halloween. I think that's why I let it grow out for so long. Don't know if I'd feel safe trick or treating around here, though since I really don't know many people here. There is a very nice elderly couple next door, and I've done some odd jobs for them to earn some extra money. My gardening skills are really paying off.

I can't believe Carla argued so much about living in a small town when Nash has around ten percent fewer people. And wow, most of the people are kinda poor and it really shows. Montesano might be a small town, but it was very homey and welcoming. Here, not so much. And my bedroom is the size of a shoebox. I don't even have a closet.

I've been thinking about your relationship with your parents, and I wondered if you've gotten closer since you've gotten older. I can't imagine a time when Carla and I would ever be on the same page. Sometimes I just need a hug or some real support and she's just not present. She may be physically there, but it's like she feels nothing for me but disinterest.

What kind of degree do you need to get into communications? I've been using the school library to get information on colleges where I can study Literature, but the job prospects seem somewhat grim. I think I should minor in something. What do you think?

What I haven't told you: a year before I left Montesano, my junior high made me the class valedictorian, so if you ever see me, you shall bow and genuflect before me and refer to me as Your Uber Geekiness, Nerd Queen of Montesano Junior High. I'll just wave like Miss America while the you (peon) worship my mighty brain cells. LOL! Too bad I won't be the high school valedictorian like I wished, but moving away with three years to go pretty much put a kibosh on that.

I hadn't really believed I would get the top spot, especially with everything that was happening at home, but I guess I just threw myself into my studies rather than deal with Carla and her lover. And once the relationship was revealed, the floodgates opened. They became pretty blatant with their affections and the PDA was ridiculous. I can't help it; I look at Morton and I look at my dad and I just don't see the attraction. He's a ne'er-do-well. I mean, what kind of man has sex in a house the woman shares with her husband?

Well, technically, Carla doesn't share the house per se. Finding out that she had signed documentation that stated that she had no interest in the property or profits rendered from property owned prior to marriage meant she was only going to leave how she came. The house, workshop and craft studio had been in Dad's family for years before they even met. He had spent the majority of his pay and settlement from the Marines to pay for everything, so she had nothing coming. I can't believe he pre-nupped Mom! Raymond Steele for the win! Go Daddy! Go Daddy!

What did she think was going to happen? That Dad was going to finance her and Morton's love nest or something? What would be his motivation? Don't let the door hit ya where the good Lord split ya!

I've heard them discussing child support, but since he was never legally my dad (which she's thrown in his face for the last several months), he doesn't technically owe her or me anything. How would she explain to a judge why she was demanding child support from a man that she wouldn't allow to legally adopt me?

Why are adults so crappy to each other? Apparently, Dad sends money for me every month just so that he can talk to me on the phone. Mom said that he had no rights, so he should count himself lucky to have me in his life at all. She's selling my time to a guy who owes her nothing but a pop upside the head. Really. I dream about slapping her, but I'm afraid if ever did, I wouldn't be able to stop until I collapse from delirium caused by lack of sleep and food.

Am I a bad person? (HINT: You're supposed to say "no, of course not" and offer me a shovel and locations to dispose of their bodies 'cos that's what best friends do.)

Love,

Annie

P.S. We're now 2,200 miles apart, so this officially counts as a long-distance relationship.


Friday, August 27, 2004

CPoV

I decided to make an unscheduled side-trip after my meeting in Dallas. It was a logistics nightmare, but I thought if I could just see Annie safe in the flesh, nightmares of her brutalized and broken body would flee my dreams. It was very important that she not see me, so Taylor (finally let into the secret) arranged to have a compact rental at our disposal. I was dressed down in a button down shirt, jeans and trainers, and Taylor had miraculously cast aside his rigid business uniform.

We were parked inconspicuously toward the corner of the street where Annie lived. Soon a yellow school bus pulled up and a passel of kids burst out, one trailing behind. It was Annie! She was wearing jeans and a long-sleeved shirt unlike most of the teenagers nearby in shorts and t-shirts. Her hair was down and she was wearing a headband. Her hair obscured the right side of her face since her head was tilted down. But suddenly she looked up, almost locked in on my location. There was a breeze and her hair was momentarily swept aside revealing her face and a terrific, mother of all shiners.

"Fuck!" Taylor exclaimed with an exhalation of air.

I knew we had just witnessed the result of that 'not good' conversation that Annie wouldn't be revisiting any time soon.

E/N: Annie has experienced the day from hell. What is our erstwhile hero doing, you wonder? Re-thinking every conversation he and Elena ever had? Going to a club to find a sub on his own? Or stalking our heroine?

Ray comforts Ana when she's sick and reassures her that she's more important than anything or anyone, when he tells her he'll stay with her rather than working. He uses the scripture from the book of Matthew to explain that she is his priority.
Matthew 6:21, "For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also."

Next: CG reacts to Annie's letter.

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