Page 13 of Shamed
There’s an awkward silence that fills the room once Marni plops down on the bed beside Jersey. They don’t know what to say. Neither do I.
These are my best friends: girls who know more about me than my parents, girls who are closer to me than anyone. Yet right now, it feels like a world of space sits between us.
How can I talk to them about how I’m feeling when I can’t even put it into words? When they wouldn’t even be able to understand? When I don’t evenwantto discuss it?
I wonder if we’d be able to pretend nothing ever happened.
With a twist of her fingers and a clearing of her throat, Jersey finally breaks the silence. “I’m so sorry for leaving you. If I’d only stayed outside with you . . .”
I guess I’m not the only one who’s been drowning in the what-ifs. The fact is, we can fill up our entire lives with what-ifs, drive ourselves to madness thinking about them, but nothing could ever change the past, only the choices we make for the future.
Nothing I do now can erase what was done. But the cycle continues, regardless. What if, what if, what if . . .
And so I sit here festering, fighting the flickers of memories and my own imagination.
I hear the echo of a grunt in my ear and internally flinch before refocusing on them. A glossy sheen covers Jersey’s eyes, and a look of pity fills them.
“It’s not your fault. Neither of yours,” I add when I see guilt on Marni’s face. She’s always been a little tougher, a little harder, so to see her emotions surfacing just adds to my messed-up state and I have to look away.
“I should have taken you to dance with me,” Marni says, her voice sounding pained. “Or just sat with you a little longer. The guys all feel bad as well.” My eyes fly back to her at that. “They’ve all been giving Jacob’s friends a hard time. Dylan’s personally taken it upon himself to make sure people know what happened and who was responsible. He’s even warned people to stay away from them, though Mase seems to have already separated himself from them on his own.”
She says it all as if Dylan is a good guy for doing that, for sticking up for me. I just wish he’d mind his own business and stay out of mine. Another wave of unease passes through my stomach, and I settle a hand on top of it.
“I don’t want him out there talking on my behalf—I don’t want anyone talking about it at all. It’s bad enough that my parents are determined to make an example of Jacob and make it even more public.” I scrub both hands over my face, then keep my face buried there. “The thought of everyone knowing and whispering about it is as if there’s a sex tape out there that they’re all watching.”
“It’s not like that,” Jersey tries to reassure.
“I know it’s not, but my mind is so fucked up right now, that’s how it’s making me feel.” I look up to find my friends watching me with uncertainty.
“You should come to brunch with us,” Marni says, squeezing my toes. “You can see for yourself that it’s not as bad as you think.”
Panic tightens my chest at the thought of it. All those people looking at me, judging me, or feeling sorry for me. “I can’t.” I fold my arms across my chest as if that will somehow loosen the threads of fear strangling it.
The two of them share a look, unspoken words said between them that I don’t bother trying to decipher.
Marni scoots a little closer. “Come on, babe; you need to get out.”
I’m already shaking my head before she finishes. She doesn’tget it. Despite telling myself to pull it together earlier, I’m very much a crumbling pile of emotions. One push and the pieces will scatter.
“Okay, okay.” Marni’s hands lift in resignation. “No brunch. We’ll stay here. But babe, you’re going to have to leave the house at some point.”
Jersey nods in agreement, her lips downturned.
“Maybe we should go down and bake some cookies? You like doing that when you’re feeling off, right?”
I shake my head again. Feelingoffis the biggest understatement. “It won’t help this time.”
“What about your parents? Have they talked to you about it?”
I exhale. “Dad came in and told me I wasn’t going to school.” Not that I would have gone, anyway. Especially not after hearing him say that he’d be making an example of Jacob. “And Mom has been trying to make small talk.”
Since Mom moved to Chicago, our distant relationship became even more strained. We still keep in contact somewhat regularly, but you could easily pluck my mother out from the other side of the phone call and replace her with my hairdresser, and I wouldn’t know the difference except for the voice.
I’ve always looked at my friends’ relationships with their moms with envy. Maybe if I had someone who tenderly hugged me and stroked my hair instead of going to war for me, or a dad who paid attention to what I need and want rather than whathedoes, I wouldn’t feel so alone.
My dark-haired friend’s lips purse, her eyes staring blankly at the wall beside my head in thought. “I just can’t believe Jacob did that after we were talking about him.”
This time, it’s Marni’s turn to nod. “Right? I didn’t exactly know him, but heseemednormal.”
