Page 23 of Shamed
When I looked at my future as a teenager, I never expected to enter my twenties like a damaged and failed student whose issues have issues, but here we are.
And it happenedtodayof all days.
As it stands, I already felt like my insides had been scooped out, so I feel no emptier than I did before. But it’s the lack of direction now that’s leaving me feeling adrift.
I don’t know why, since my father already has me pointed in the direction he wants me to go.
“Jennifer!”
I’m startled out of my depressing thoughts and spin around to see Marni and Jersey approaching. Smiles are stretched across their faces, not a hint of a blemish on their wonderfully perfect lives.
Envy slaps me across the face. I can’t help it.
They’ve always been safely covered under an umbrella while the storm of my life rages on, soaking me through.
And still, I miss them. Crave our old friendship. Feel the painful absence of their existence.
“Hey, girl.” Jersey leans in to kiss my cheek. She’s learned. “Are you going home?”
“Yeah, I was just going to make one stop first.”
Marni twirls a set of keys around her finger. “You should come to the BBQ our friend Charli is having.”
I try to mask my surprise that Marni is inviting me somewhere since it’s usually Jersey who does, if at all. The sad thing is, I can’t tell if she was sincere in asking or if she expected me to say no like I have in the past.
“Yes, you should.” Jersey bumps her elbow with mine. “We were just going to grab a few things from the store before going.”
I hike my purse higher, shifting on my feet.
“Come on, it’s been forever.”
My eyes flicker between my two old friends, thinking this might be a nice distraction for today. Maybe we’ll be able to catch up properly and rekindle some of our lost friendship.
“Okay, sure. I’ll come.”
An hour later, we’re pulling up to a single-story corner house on a tree-lined block.
The trip to the store was slightly awkward with the girls talking to each other about all the things in their lives that I have no idea about anymore.
And even though Matt and Jersey are still dating, both girls are just as boy crazy and love to talk about sex. I’m still working on being alone with a man, so dating and sex are not even a thought in my mind.
But I pasted on a smile and pretended none of it bothered me.
This is my doing after all—the distance, the fact that they know nothing about my struggles.
Or maybe it’s just that they don’t care.
We follow the path down the side of the house to the backyard, carrying bags of food and drinks.
It’s a seasonably warm day, though I think the sweat that’s causing my loose tank-top to cling to my body has more to do with this situation.
I knew it was likely that I wouldn’t know anyone here, but it doesn’t stop the anxiety rising to my skin in the form of more sweat when we spill into the backyard, and I’m met with a group of unfamiliar faces that turn to look at me while ending all conversations.
Their piercing gazes scan over me, stripping me bare as if they already know me and see the hidden filth below. They whisper things like, “Isn’t that the girl who was raped?”
Damaged. Dirty.
Jersey grabs the bag from my hand, pulling my eyes to her. “Go get a plate of food and find a seat. All the meat is already cooked.”
