Текст книги "The Stillburrow Crush"

Автор книги: Linda Kage

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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 12 страниц)

Chapter Twelve

Mom discovered her wine bottle was missing the morning after Thanksgiving. I was still asleep.

Though Dad had told me to go to bed the night before when it was still light out, I hadn't actually fallen asleep until well after midnight. I'd gone to my room and only once did I try to sneak out to call Luke. I needed to explain to him what he'd seen earlier plus I had to tell someone the news. I knew Luke would keep his mouth shut about it, especially if I blackmailed him with his own little poetry-writing secret if I thought he might blab. But when I tiptoed out of my room I ran into Dad in the hallway. He was staring at his closed bedroom door. I could hear Mom moving around inside. In my father's eyes, I saw anguish and the aching desire to go into that room with her.

His gaze shot to mine when he saw me approach. I stopped short.

"What do you need?" he said in a sharp manner.

"I, uh..." I glanced hopefully around for a sign of the phone. "I was just getting a drink." He nodded once and I dashed into the kitchen, filled a glass with tap water, and quickly retreated to the harbor of my messy lair. I sat on my mattress and sipped the water. It was incredibly warm, so I spit it back into the cup and set it on my nightstand.

Marty was going to be a daddy. I was going to be an aunt. There was going to be a baby. I tried to imagine Abby as a 161

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part of the family. I set up a picture in my head of her and Marty coming through the door for a Christmas celebration, a wide grin on his face as he carried a heaping pile of wrapped gifts. Abby tagged regretfully along behind him, toting a blond-headed child on her hip. She didn't smile as she set the toddler on the floor as soon as she stepped inside. The little boy wobbled across the ivory carpet with his arms spread open, ready to be held by the first person to reach him. Then I pictured myself sitting across from her at our family table. She made this disgusted face as Dad started talking about motor problems. The little tow-headed boy in the high chair next to her picked up his plate and smashed it upside down on the table. Mom scurried to her feet for a washrag and Abby yelled at him.

I shivered and shook my head. It didn't seem possible. A baby? No, it was too weird to be true.

I tossed and turned half the night, thinking about how my mother and father had responded to the news, worried how Marty was holding up, and wondering how Principal and Mrs. Eggrow had reacted when they learned. And I thought of Luke.

He'd come to see me on Thanksgiving Day. It put a warm spot in my heart. I was sure I'd figure out a way to see him the next day but it turned out Mom had different plans. She woke me by slamming open my door and ripping the covers off me. I winced and curled into a ball.

"Mom," I groaned, groping for my blankets. I opened one eye to discover them at the foot of the bed. 162

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"Get up, Carrie." Mom's voice brooked no room for discussion. "We need to talk."

My eyes opened fully then. It felt early but it was late enough for the room to be flooded in light. I blinked a couple of times and finally sat up. I shivered, then reached for the blankets and pulled them over my legs. "What?" I said, and yawned.

Mom loomed over me with a drill sergeant's stance, her jaw set and her hands fisted in a pair of yellow dishwashing gloves. She brought the very potent aroma of lemon-scented disinfectant with her.

I forgot to mention earlier how she deep-cleaned when she was upset. She didn't just dust and vacuum; she got down on her elbows and scrubbed when something was troubling her. And from the smell permeating my room, I figured she must've been at it for a while.

She thumped one foot repeatedly against the floor and folded her arms. "There's a wine bottle missing from the kitchen drawer."

I stopped in the middle of a full body stretch. My arms fell limply down to my side.

I was busted. But I didn't go down lightly. With all the innocence I could muster, I said, "There is?"

"Don't play dumb with me." She was loud enough for anyone inside the house to hear. "I didn't take it. And I've already asked your father. He didn't take it. Your brother doesn't live here anymore. So that just leaves you." I attempted to move deeper inside the warmth of my blanket. "Are you sure there's one missing?" I tried. 163

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"Carrie," she said, her voice stern.

"OK," I said, dropping my eyes. "I took it." My words were mumbled, but she heard me just fine.

"Where is it?"

I shrugged. In some ditch, busted by the side of the road.

"It's gone."

"You drank the entire bottle by yourself?" At my lack of answer, she hissed out a long breath. I glanced up and shrank even further away. If she'd looked upset before, she was completely ticked off now. "You shared it with that boy, didn't you?" She spat out "that boy" like it was some kind of despicable disease.

I wanted to ask since when had Luke turned into "that boy"? This was the same guy she'd practically pushed me into being alone with in my bedroom. But I already knew the answer. It was since my brother had come home with the news he'd impregnated Abby Eggrow.

"That's it," she said, her voice rough and angry. "You're grounded."

My jaw fell loose. "Grounded?" I'd never been grounded in my entire life. I wasn't even sure what the punishment entailed.

"You stole from your parents," Mom said, lifting her index finger. "You lied to us." She lifted a second finger. "And you drank under age." Up with finger number three. "So you've broken the state law along with the laws of this house." She turned away disgusted. "And I don't know how many other things you've done.

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"I expect you to be more responsible than this, Carrie. Alcohol is a dangerous thing. At first, you think you've having fun and then the next thing you know, you're pregnant and getting married at age eighteen." She pinned me with a sudden glare. "How many times have you snuck out of the house to be with him?"

I shook my head. "Mom, it's not what you think. We're not—"

But she held up an I-don't-care hand and said. "How many times?"

My shoulders fell and my head dropped. I stared at the hands I had folded in my lap. "Just that once," I said. Then I remembered the first ride he'd given me in his Mustang. Our first kiss. "Twice," I quickly amended. Mom sighed in disgust. Then she tossed a dusting rag and a can of furniture polish onto the mattress beside me. "Clean this mess," she ordered. "And when you're done in here, wipe out the shelves in the kitchen."

She stormed out, leaving the door wide open. I was left in my room, barely awake and still in my pajamas. This wasn't how I'd expected to start my day. I crawled out of bed, not bothering to make it, and started picking things up from the floor.

This was grossly unfair. Marty had knocked up some girl and I was the one who ended up grounded? OK, so it'd been wrong to swipe the wine. But come on. I'd never done anything even remotely bad before. Didn't I deserve some kind of reprieve for a first-time offense?

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I guess not, because Mom frequently came to the doorway to check my progress. Sometimes, she'd throw out orders, telling me to make my bed or fold that pile of clothes or stack that pile of books straighter. It was just before noon when Luke called.

I'd finished my room and had all the plates and cups piled on the kitchen table while I stood on the countertop and wiped out each empty shelf. Mom sat at the table, apparently reading a book, though she never turned a page, just gazed sightlessly at the words and said nothing. When the phone rang, I immediately shimmied off the countertop. "I'll get it."

"You will not," Mother said, and slammed the book closed. She sent me a glare that had me climbing back on the counter, wiping away.

In the front room, I heard her say, "Hello, Luke...No, she can't come to the phone right now. Carrie's grounded...No...Thank you for calling. Have a nice weekend." She hurried the last part, like she was interrupting something he'd been saying, and then she hung up. When I saw her appear out of the corner of my eye, staring me down, I acted like I was pouring all my attention into scrubbing the top shelf.

"Do we need to get a pregnancy test taken for you too?" she finally asked.

After pausing a moment to discover I wasn't actually going to sink through the floor from mortification, I lifted my chin high and said, "No, we most certainly do not." 166

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She sniffed at my bitter tone like she didn't believe me, but after that she turned away, left me alone in the kitchen, and never broached the subject again.

I spent the rest of Thanksgiving break cleaning. Through the remainder of Friday and all day Saturday, neither Mom nor I left the house. She kept busy by finding things for me to do. I polished windows, washed curtains, scrubbed the walls and dusted every inch of wood to a reflecting shine. Mom told Dad about the wine at lunch on Friday. He said nothing but looked at me with distinct disappointment, which made me lower my head in guilt. That man could pack more blame in one look than Mom could in two days' worth of cleaning duty.

On Sunday, she couldn't find anything else for me to clean. I sat between her and Dad through church. Marty didn't show but neither did any of the Eggrows. After lunch, I was sent to my room where I remained the rest of the day. We didn't hear from Marty. Mom and Dad didn't call him either, to see if he was all right. And I couldn't be freed to go search him out. So none of us knew how the Marty-Abby situation was progressing.

It was Monday morning before I got wind of any latebreaking news. I arrived late to school, running in the front door after the first bell had already rung. Mom and Dad had argued the night before in their bedroom. I could barely hear them through the wall, so it was hard to make out specific words, but the tone of voice was clear.

I lay in the dark, waiting for the discussion to come to a close, but it dragged on. I heard Marty's name mentioned a 167

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few times. Sometimes, Dad would say, "He's got to live his own life, Andrea." Finally Mom said, louder than before, "He should've learned something from our mistake." Everything grew incredibly quiet after that. My eyes stung and I strained to hear my father say, "I didn't realize you thought of our life together as a mistake." Not much was said after that and their words grew increasingly quiet. Finally, I heard the door open. It clicked so softly I hardly caught the sound. But then muffled footsteps moved down the hall past my door and into the living room. They didn't return while I was awake. I wondered which one of them had stayed on the couch.

The next morning, I slept in. My eyes hurt when I woke. Dried tears were crusted to my cheeks. Dad was already out in the shop when I dared to leave my room and Mom was in the kitchen with her legs crossed under the table, sipping coffee and staring at an old family picture on the wall. I ate a silent and speedy breakfast with her but spent too long in the shower. I dawdled over getting dressed and didn't leave the house until Mom called to me, telling me it was getting late. I couldn't find all the homework and books I needed for school. It was hard to locate my stuff since Mom had made me clean my room.

Students were already clearing the halls and teachers were pulling their classroom doors shut when I raced through the front doors. It was a shock to see Luke standing next to my locker, pacing. His hands were in his pockets and he looked like an expectant father outside the door of a delivery room. He took a step in my direction when he caught sight of me. 168

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"What's going on?" he said instantly. He crowded in around me as I dropped my book bag by my locker and began working on the combination of my lock.

"I'm late," I said. My voice was breathless and harried. I opened the locker door and it covered his face. He made a sound of disgust and moved it so it opened the entire way and he could lean toward me as I dug inside my cubby.

"Your mom said you were grounded."

"Oh, yeah." I made it sound like I'd forgotten all about that torture, and I yanked out the supplies I needed for first hour. I glanced up at Luke and saw the concern on his face. Then I wiped my bangs out of my eyes and said, "She found out about the wine."

Luke glanced up and down the empty halls and leaned closer. "No wonder she sounded so ticked off on the phone." I blew out a breath and slammed my locker. "Let's just say it was a bad weekend all around."

"Why?" Luke followed close behind me as I started up the hall toward my classroom. "Something else happened, didn't it?" His fingers wrapped around my upper arm, pulling me around to face him.

"You're going to be late for class too," I said.

"What's going on, Carrie?" he said in a low demand. I sighed and checked the quiet halls. "I'll talk to you later, OK?"

He nodded, bobbing his head quickly, while giving me a concerned look. His fingers squeezed briefly, and then he let go, racing down the hall in the opposite direction toward his own class. The bell rang just as I eased inside the room. The 169

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teacher slid me a short, condemning look and then waited to start until I slumped into the first available seat. I noticed it immediately: the stares and the whispers. I saw more than one person glance at me and then away when I caught them doing so. The teacher also noticed the lack of attention and spent a couple of minutes lecturing us about talking while she was trying to teach. But as soon as she started teaching again, someone would turn around and whisper something to the person behind them. Finally, the teacher gave up and assigned us extra homework. Whispers continued to circulate around me and glances steadily hit in my direction. I figured it was about Abby and Marty. Pregnancy was big news in our school since girls so rarely came up pregnant before they left the twelfth grade.

There'd probably only been a dozen or so high school girls who'd gotten pregnant since my mom had had her turn years ago. Now it was the son she'd been carrying who'd caused the damage.

When the bell rang, students swarmed into the halls spreading gossip like a brush fire. I followed at the end, feeling like the spark that had lit the fuse. People stopped talking and stared at me when I passed. "That's her," I could almost hear them snicker behind their hands. "Marty Paxton's sister." I began to feel like I was the one who was pregnant. I caught E.T. near my locker. He seemed leery about approaching me, but I grabbed his arm and dragged him with me as I went by.

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"What's going on?" I hissed, even though I was already sure I knew.

"Is Abby Eggrow really pregnant?" was all he could say.

"Where'd you hear that?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Everyone's been asking me since I'm your friend and you're Marty's sister, and he's roommates with my brother." He puffed out his chest a little, like that gave him importance. "Is it really Marty's kid?"

"Look," I said, and edged in closer to him so I could speak confidentially, "that's nobody's business but Abby and Marty's. Who started the rumor, anyway? Does Egghead know about it?"

E.T.'s eyes shot open wide and his head bobbed. "He knows," he said in a horrified whisper. "I saw him storming down the halls right after class. He's fuming."

"Well I would be too if everyone was spreading rumors like that about my daughter."

"Rumors?" E.T. frowned at me. "She's not pregnant, then?"

I sighed. "I guess you'll find out in nine months when she does or doesn't have a baby, won't you?" E.T. gave me a disappointed look. "Fine," he said, already turning away. "Don't tell me."

"Fine, I won't," I called after him. "And quit spreading gossip. It's beneath you, E.T."

I had to go the bathroom before the next class started, making me almost late again. The girls in there shut up when they saw me enter and they quickly began to file out. I turned on the water and let it spray out into my cupped hands. I 171

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dipped my head and wet my face, shuddering when the icy cold droplets hit my nose and cheeks. When I dabbed myself dry with a handful of paper towels, I stared at my reflection in the mirror.

This was not the way I'd wanted to end my terrible weekend. But I should've expected it. Of course the news would leak and spread. I knew that. I just hadn't been aware it would seep out so fast or that it'd personally affect me. Liz and Jill came inside the bathroom but pulled up short when they caught sight of me. Then they glared and folded their arms until I dropped my head and murmured an,

"Excuse me." I brushed past them and fled. I wasn't sure if they held me responsible for Marty and Abby's actions or what, but I could tell I wasn't on their A-list. I could've stuck around and defended myself but I didn't feel like going into a battle at the moment. If they wanted to be mad at me for something my brother and their friend had done, then I wasn't going to cry about it and throw a fit. They could think whatever they wanted. I didn't care about their opinions.

Suddenly, I wanted to see Luke, but I missed him in the halls.

My next class was history with Mr. Decker. It was the class I shared with Abby, but she wasn't present when I arrived and she never showed. When the sign-up sheet hit my desk, I read the word Excused by her name. I'd just signed my own name on the list when the secretary's voice came through the intercom.

"Mr. Decker?"

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The teacher paused and looked toward the speaker box at the corner where the ceiling met the wall. "Yes?"

"Could you send Carrie Paxton to the principal's office, please?"

Mr. Decker glanced at me. "Sure," he called.

[Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter Thirteen

The principal of SEC shut the door to his office. I was already seated at the chair in front of his desk when he came in, but I had no idea what this was about. I figured it had to involve Marty, but why would Abby's dad want to talk to me about that? I would've thought he'd prefer to avoid me. Mr. Eggrow came around his desk silently and sat in his chair. He rested his elbows gingerly on his desktop and stared at me as he folded his hands, carefully interlacing each finger. I sank back in the chair. For a moment, he said nothing and my eyes began to wander around the room, catching sight of pictures on the wall of Abby and her sister, Sidney. Finally, he spoke. "Do you know what the penalty is for defamation?"

I frowned. "Defamation?" I said slowly. His voice rose to a harsh, almost uncontrolled pitch. "Lying about another individual, Miss Paxton." He spat out the name Paxton like it was a piece of stale gum he needed to be rid of. My mouth worked. "I don't..." What in God's name was he talking about? "No, I don't know the penalty."

"People go to jail for it," he said. He was quickly losing control of the anger I could see simmering just beneath the surface, and I was becoming increasingly confused. But defamation? I tried to think of anything I might've written in the paper but came up blank.

"Not only does it hurt the person being lied about, but it decreases the worth of the person spreading the lie as well. I 174

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hope you realize the destruction you've not only done to this school, but what you're doing to yourself." My chest sucked in around my ribs when I inhaled sharply. I shook my head. "I'm sorry, but I have no idea what you're talking about."

He stood up slowly, his fingers flexing into a fist and then loosening. My eyes bugged. I had the feeling he wanted those constricting fingers wrapped around my neck. It didn't matter that his wide desk was between us. His looming stance scared the living daylights out of me. "Lies have been going around this school that my daughter's pregnant, and I know you started them."

I shot to my feet. "What?!"

"I'm giving you out-of-school suspension and refusing you any make-up homework. Your mother's already been called, so you can leave right now." My mouth dropped open as he nailed me with a menacing glare. "I don't want to see you in these halls for the rest of the week."

"But I didn't—"

He held up his hand and looked away. His jaw worked a few times before he hissed, "Just leave, Carrie." My chin trembled. "Mr. Eggrow, I swear I didn't say anything about Abby to anyone. And besides, it couldn't be defamation because it's not a lie. She is pregnant. Marty told us—"

I knew the instant I said it, I shouldn't have. His eyes flashed warningly and his hand fisted again. But this was injustice. I had to defend myself.

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"I'm aware your brother went to your house and told your family that," he said with strained patience. "But we've taken Abby to a real doctor since and had everything checked. She is definitely not pregnant."

The air left my lungs. Not pregnant? All this fuss and the girl wasn't even pregnant? I shook my head and stared at the desktop. Why hadn't Marty called and straightened everything out? My parents were fighting, my schoolmates were gossiping, and all because someone wasn't pregnant?

"Pregnant or not pregnant," I said, using the calmest voice I had, "I didn't talk to anyone. Mr. Eggrow, I don't—"

"Get out of here!" He roared it so loudly I jumped. "Get out of my office. Get out of my school." He started around his desk after me. "Get out of my town." I stifled a scream and fled. The doorknob seemed slippery under my palm and I could almost feel how his hand would clamp around the back of my throat and squeeze if he caught me. But then I pulled hard and yanked the door open, flying into the secretary's domain. Egghead slammed the door shut behind me. Again, my body jerked. My hand came up to muffle a sob. Two secretaries sat at their desks watching me. One gave me a sympathetic look while the other glared. I swept by them and dashed out into the hallway. I sprinted all the way to my locker, not caring that I wasn't supposed to run in the halls. Egghead could give me another week's worth of suspensions for all it mattered. As I raced by opened doors of classrooms, I caught glimpses of students seated at their desks. I didn't care if they gawked after me either. I just had to get out of there.

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I reached my locker in record time and tore off the lock, throwing open my door. I'm not sure what I was thinking. I just started pulling things out, stuffing them into my bag. At that moment, I believed I'd never return to this blasted place. I would drop out before I stepped one foot inside Egghead's school. There was another small town between Stillburrow and Paulbrook. It had a high school as well. I could enroll there, borrow one of Dad's cars off the lot and drive to school every morning.

I didn't realize I'd started to hyperventilate until I heard an alarmed voice call my name.

"Carrie? Carrie!"

I was grabbed by the shoulders from behind and spun around. Luke's worried gaze was all I saw. It was hard to distinguish anything else about him, because he looked blurred through all the tears.

"What are you doing out here?" I managed to ask. My breathing shuddered as I tried to regain some oxygen.

"I saw you pass my class and asked if I could go to the bathroom." His fingers bit down. "What's going on?" My shoulders collapsed and I hiccupped. My head fell forward and my entire body trembled. I dived against his chest and fisted my hands around the cloth on the back of his shirt.

"I thought he was going to kill me," I rasped. "I was so scared, I thought..."

I couldn't talk. I can say now—since it's all over—I was acting completely irrational. But at the moment, I was petrified. I started blubbering all over Luke, not bothering to 177

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check my uncontrolled behavior. He kept saying, "Who," and

"What," but it didn't register.

He was warm and safe and his arms were wrapped around me, rocking me. That's all that mattered. I felt so secure in his embrace I almost passed out. My legs even started to give.

But then Luke shook me. "Stop it," he said. His voice was panicked. "Talk to me, Carrie."

I looked up at him through my tear-stained lashes.

"Egghead just suspended me."

"What?" His mouth dropped and he took a step back. The step not only put distance between the two of us but it seemed to put a little distance between the situation and me. My head cleared and I began to feel in control of my limbs again. I concentrated on settling my breathing. Luke took a breath and ran a hand through his hair.

"Why?"

I sniffed and wiped at my wet cheeks. "Because Abby's not pregnant."

"Huh?" He moved closer and lowered his head. "I think you need to tell me what happened this weekend." I wiped back hair that had fallen in my face, trying to gain a little decorum. Luke lifted a hand to help. He tucked a strand behind my right ear. Our fingers brushed.

"I've been hearing the rumor all morning about her being pregnant," he said. "So it's not true, then?" I shook my head. "I, ah..." I looked down, trying to ignore the queasy feeling in my stomach. "Marty told us she was 178

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pregnant on Thanksgiving Day. Right before you showed up, actually."

Luke nodded. "I could tell something big had just happened."

"But I guess she's not." I looked up to Luke and searched his eyes for a little faith. "I didn't tell anyone she was, though."

He snorted and gave a short laugh. "Of course you didn't. Why would I think..." His words died away as my meaning seemed to sink in.

"Her dad thinks I did," I said, and bit my lip. "I'm being suspended a week for defamation."

Luke's look said he didn't believe me. He laughed. "Yeah, right." But when I didn't join in, he stopped and stared at me dumbfounded. "But that's crazy."

"Get back to class, Luke."

We both jumped at the commanding voice that boomed from behind us. I spun around and so did Luke. The principal loomed in front of us with his arms held stiffly at his sides. My ears started to buzz and I shrank back, bumping into Luke. He took my arm and stepped in front of me, blocking me from the older man.

"Mr. Eggrow," he said, and his voice shocked me. It sounded so formal and rational. He was definitely the banker's son, his respectful courtesy layered over a thick air of authority. "I think there's been a misunderstanding. Carrie couldn't have started the gossip about—"

"Did you hear what I said?"

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Luke backed down. At least I thought he had. "Yes, sir," he said. "But I'm telling you it's not possible that she could've started any gossip. I've been trying to get a hold of her all weekend. I wasn't even allowed to talk to her on the phone because she's been grounded. And she arrived to school late this morning. You see, there wasn't any time for her to spread—"

"Return to your class...now," Mr. Eggrow commanded. But Luke's shoulders were stiff. "Do you have any proof the rumor was started by her?"

"Mr. Carter—" Mr. Eggrow's voice rose and echoed down the hall. I caught sight of a few teachers glancing out of their classrooms. And what a sight they must've seen...Luke Carter squaring off with the principal and Carrie Paxton hovering behind her brave defender.

"This is none of your concern. Now go back to class before I give you an after-school detention." The breath rushed out of Luke. He glanced at me and then back to the principal. He licked his bottom lip. "I think I'll see her safely to the door first," he said, and took my arm. He turned us toward the first available exit and started dragging me down the hall.

"What are you doing," I said. "Are you crazy? Go to class." I glanced over my shoulder at Mr. Eggrow, whose silhouette was quickly becoming smaller and smaller.

"Shut up," Luke whispered back. "I wasn't about to leave you alone with him." At the door, he pulled me around to face him and tilted my chin up with his hand. "I'll take care of this. 180

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Don't worry about it." Then he pulled me onto the toes of my shoes for a quick yet hard kiss and pushed me out the door. If I hadn't been so distraught about everything, I would've laughed. He'd acted like some knight in shining armor who'd just ridden up on his white stallion to rescue me and now was shooing me back into the castle (even though he'd actually sent me outside) while he set forth to save the day. But at that moment, I couldn't think about it. I stopped at the top of the school steps and wondered what I was going to do next. I couldn't go home. I refused to go home. There was no telling what Mr. Eggrow had told Mom of my suspension. She probably thought I'd been caught in the halls doing the nasty with Luke. If I went home and told her why I'd really been suspended, she and Dad would get upset and charge toward the school. And that would really stir things. The real problem was with Marty and Abby. If my parents stormed the building and confronted Egghead, they'd only bring a personal problem onto school grounds where it most certainly didn't belong. Nope, I definitely couldn't go home. Over on the east side of the building, I could hear the grade school kids playing at recess. I glanced over and watched three children chase each other. Suddenly I wanted to be that age again, where I didn't understand so much, where I didn't have to be responsible for anything, and no one could blame me for such huge catastrophes. A teacher blew her whistle and the children made one last frantic circle around the jungle gym before they reluctantly ran toward her and lined up into sloppy, uneven rows. As they filed inside, I started down the steps. The first place I 181