Hi everyone! Thanks for your patience with me – I've just started a new job, new classes, and picked up extra shifts at work, so I'm super busy. But bear with me…I plan to update at least once a week from now on, hopefully more. As always, thanks for all of the reviews and comments – everything is always appreciated!
Dawn hadn't quite taken to Mary Anne's new look as much as her stepsister had anticipated. When she had come down to the table, the only thing that Dawn could think was, Oh no, not again.
Mary Anne went through stages like this all the time. Dawn often caught her flipping through Vogue, tearing out pictures of girls who she wanted to look like at some point in time. Once, she had even gone so far as to put together a scrap book of looks to try out; she had also considered asking Stacey to take her shopping in New York. But something always stopped her; something always kept drawing her back to the loafers and pleated skirts that she was so used to.
Dawn also hated to admit that she was a snoop. Originally, she had tried to label herself as a thief, but the only thing that she really stole were Mary Anne's thoughts and feelings. Apparently her stepsister had quite the grudge against her but was too afraid to ever say anything. On countless occasions, Dawn had tried to ask Mary Anne how she felt about something, and Mary Anne would sniffle, bat her eyelashes, and head up to her room, probably to scribble notes in the notebook that she didn't hide well (come on, everyone knows about under the mattress. One would think that after all of these years of hanging out with Claudia and her junk food stash that she would be more prone to finding creative hiding spots).
As Dawn sat in the secret passageway before leaving for school, she again mulled over Mary Anne's new look. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate the change in her stepsister; it was just that she didn't like how she went about it. How come Mary Anne could never have a makeover that wasn't a secret? And why did she always have to change so drastically. Deep down, Dawn knew that Mary Anne was no different, especially through reading her journal.
She flipped through the most recent entry, smiling at Mary Anne's doodles in the margins. The smiley faces and squiggles that dotted the margins were the true essence of Mary Anne. It was hard to get mad at her when she could see her reduced to such a pure form. She only had a few moments before leaving, but she flipped back through earlier entries quickly. Just as she was about to head back into the house, her mother's name caught her eye. Quickly, she set her things down and entered Mary Anne's psyche:
It happened again tonight. Of course, this wasn't nearly as bad as the last time. I mentioned something about Dawn writing me a letter, and Sharon went off on another tirade about how I always get letters and she always gets nothing. I reminded her that Dawn had just called her the night before, but she was convinced that Dawn was calling for me. Then she smashed the dish that she was washing and went back up to her room, mumbling to herself again about she never should have had kids.
I just don't know how my dad puts up with this. I can't take it much longer. I wish there was anywhere I could go besides here. Dawn's lucky – she's here for a month and never has to be around Sharon all the time. Most of the time, she gets off with a quick vacation and a few family trips. When she's in California, she just calls once in a while or sends a postcard.
I don't know how much longer I can do this.
As that entry cut off, Dawn knew she had to leave for school. But she couldn't tear her eyes off of the next page, where Mary Anne wrote an entry for the following day:
Sharon apologized to me last night. She said she didn't mean any of the things she said, but I didn't believe her. I tried telling her how upset it makes me that she competes with me over Dawn, but she wouldn't listen. Instead, she brushed my hair out of my eyes and kissed me on the forehead. I wanted to punch her. I wanted to run screaming out of the room. But the last thing that I wanted to do was have her touch me.
Of course, Dad won't do anything about this. He thinks that I don't notice when he takes more and more hours at work, coming home later and later. He thinks that I can't tell that he's distancing himself from Sharon and me. He thinks I can't see the lipstick that I noticed on his collar once, or the way that he showers as soon as he gets home from "work." He thinks I don't see.
He thinks I don't see because he can't see me.
As Dawn placed the notebook down, she knew that she had to get out of Stoneybrook – the sooner the better. She raced to Mary Anne's room and replaced the book, not caring if she messed up the perfectly made linens. All she knew was that her being in California had started this situation; maybe it was time to go back to where she belonged. She'd already caused so much destruction, and there was absolutely nothing she could do to fix it.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Mallory couldn't believe how many boys were checking her out as she made her way to the post office. She knew she looked good – she had even picked out her best jeans for the occasion! As one guy gave her a wide grin, she winked back. For once, Mal didn't hate boys, not at all.
The line at the post office was moving quickly for once, but it was still not fast enough for Mal. She tapped her foot impatiently, attracting the attention of the lone customer ahead of her.
"Hey!" the girl responded, giving Mal a big smile. "How've you been?"
It took Mal a second to place her. She hadn't seen Shannon Kilbourne in two years, not since she had decided to spend more time on her extracurricular activities. As always, the familiar twinge of jealousy hit Mal as she checked out Shannon. Someday, she vowed, I'll have blonde hair and a nose job and a nice bag for my laptop and a mansion.
Normally, Mal was pretty standoffish in public. She thought that it helped to give her a mysterious writer's edge, and she dreamed of the day that she could become a recluse like Harper Lee. But until then, she had to at least attempt to be social once in a while. And since this was such a special day for her, she turned to Shannon and began a conversation. "Wow, you look great!" she exclaimed, hoping her usual jealousy didn't show too much.
Shannon gave Mal the once over as well. "Thanks! And you look nice, too. Those jeans are really…cool. Love the tapered. And did you embroider your name on them yourself?"
"Yep!" Mal said proudly. "I love embroidering, and it kind of reminded me of this jumper I used to have with my name on it. Of course, this is much cooler," she said, searching for approval.
Shannon turned her head briefly away to stifle a chuckle. She was hoping that Mallory wouldn't be making her "Shannon" jeans any time in the near future, or anything with her name on it for that matter.
"Well, I should go," Shannon said as the teller called her name.
"Wait! Wait!" Mal called. "Want to wait for me? We can walk together. We're heading in practically the same direction!"
"Oh, I drove today," Shannon replied, beginning to get frustrated with the conversation. She practically had to bite her lip to keep her from offering Mal a ride. She knew it would be the polite thing to do, and she was raised better than her actions of the day, but she couldn't stand to be near Mallory Pike for one more instant.
"Could I have a ride?" Mal shouted, sounding a bit panicky. "It's just that we've been in line for so long, I'm afraid that I'll be late for school."
Shannon sighed and tried to hide it. "Of course," she responded. "I was just about to offer you one anyway."
"Great! Just wait for me outside. I know your car."
As Mal waited in her respective spot in line, she smiled to herself. Shannon had been the hardest of the sitters to get access to for her work because she was never around, and she and Mal had never been close. This was her chance. Don't blow this, she reminded herself. She wiped her palms on her jeans, barely noticing that she was smudging ink all over her great outfit. Just another day of a writer's life, she told herself.
As she finally approached the counter, she smiled at the clerk. "I need these documents to go to New York. As soon as possible, please."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Stacey couldn't even contend with the phone ringing all morning. Every time it did, she stuffed her head under the pillow for a little longer and willed it to stop. She hadn't been able to reach her dad on his cell phone that morning, so she wasn't sure if he had called her in to school or not. She figured it was the secretary trying to check up on her. Please, please, stop ringing, she thought. She figured that with the amount of hanging up, the call must be a wrong number.
An hour later, though, Stacey couldn't deal with it anymore. She glanced at the caller ID and was slightly horrified to see that the number was from a nearby hospital. "Hello?" she answered, wondering if there were some test results that she had forgotten about.
"Ms. McGill?" an unfamiliar voice said. "This is Carolyn calling from St. Francis hospital. Your father asked us to call you."
"My dad? What? Is everything okay?"
"Ms. McGill, we need to see you down here as soon as possible. How long do you think it will take you to get here?"
"Um…I don't…I don't drive. I don't have anyone to take me there."
"I can call a cab for you," Carolyn said, her voice softening. "It will be up in front of your place as soon as possible. We'll see you in a bit."
"Is my dad…is he okay?"
"Ms. McGill, I really can't release those details over the phone. A doctor will speak with you as soon as you get here."
Stacey ran around her room, throwing on the first outfit that she could find. For once, she didn't care about labels. As she ran out the door, she could hear the phone ringing and Laine leaving her a message: "Hey slut, thanks for going after my guy last night. But that's okay, the rest of the band was great. Very hospitable. I'll chat with your more later. Bye, beyotch!"
She had the urge to grab the machine and break it into a thousand pieces. But there was no time. She grabbed her purse and ran downstairs to wait for the cab. Please, please be okay, she willed. Daddy, please be okay. I need you.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Kristy was dying to run to the bathroom, take out the X Acto knife she had borrowed from Ashley, and relieve some of her pain. But she was trying to be stronger than that. She willed herself to walk past the bathroom, rationalizing that it would be crowded in the morning and near impossible to get in there without anyone noticing.
Her conversation with Mallory was weighing heavily on her mind. How could Mal possibly have known about Sam? Even though she claimed that she hadn't read Kristy's journal, how would she have known? And hadn't Mal pretty much come out and admitted her guilt?
Kristy barely noticed as she bumped into Mary Anne in the hallway. "Sorry," she called, failing to recognize her friend.
"Hey, Kristy," Mary Anne called, waving. Though things weren't okay between the two of them yet, Kristy had the highest hope for staying friends with Mary Anne. They could get through anything together.
"No…Mary Anne, is that you? I thought you were Cokie. You know how she looks different every two weeks."
"It's me!" Mary Anne said gleefully. "Do you like it?"
To be honest, Kristy didn't. But she didn't want to hurt her friend's feelings, especially since she was so sensitive; it's not like they were on the best grounds either. So instead of doing the usual Kristy Thomas number and telling it like it was, she choked back her dislike and said, "You look awesome!"
"Thanks! Claudia helped me last night. She even cut my hair. I think she might be able to do this for a living some day."
Kristy didn't want to talk about Claudia or the fact that her other friends had gotten over the demise of the BSC so quickly. So instead, she changed the subject. "Do you have any plans for tomorrow? We're having a party tomorrow at my house, me, Sam and Shannon. Do you want to come?"
"Sure! Is it okay if I bring Logan?"
"Sure, bring whoever you want," Kristy said. "Seriously, the more the merrier. I need something like this to get my mind off of things."
The bell rang, interrupting their conversation. "Hey, can I call you later? I had this weird talk with Mallory Pike and I kind of want to talk about it with someone."
"Mallory Pike? Weird, I haven't talked to her in ages. But sure, we can talk later! Just give me a call after school. I should be around for a while," Mary Anne replied, smiling flirtatiously at a group of basketball players.
Mary Anne is so weird, Kristy thought to herself. But she pushed that thought out of her mind as she entered her first classroom. She made it halfway through the class before she realized that her need to cut herself was completely gone. In fact, she felt completely okay. Maybe I'm on the road to recovery, finally.
Kristy had never really been able to figure out why she started this self-abuse. She always tried to rationalize it in her mind. At least I'm not anorexic, she would think as she looked at Stacey in her tiny jeans. At least I'm not a compulsive eater, she would think as she saw Claudia shove Ho-Hos down her throat. The list went on and on. Kristy could easily cross off the things that she wasn't, but she could never admit what she was.
But even though Mal knew about Sam somehow, she wasn't going to worry about it today. Today was going to change everything. Today was the first time she had been able to control her addiction. She flexed her legs and stretched them out in front of her desk. Today is the first day of the rest of my life, she thought, and almost laughed at how Mary Anne-ish that sounded.