Ghost Time (32 page)

I felt it again, building up, the pressure, it kept building. I had to fight it—I couldn’t let it win. I couldn’t go back, I didn’t want to go back. Then I heard myself, realizing I spoke out loud: Please, I said.
Please?
I didn’t know who I was talking to, but I said, Please help me. Because I didn’t want to go back ever again, but I didn’t have any energy left to fight.

(FOUR MONTHS EARLIER)

5:13 PM

I’d never had a boyfriend before, so I had no idea how stressful it was, the whole gift thing. I mean, at first, I didn’t really think about it, because, well, I didn’t think it would last more than a couple weeks, and then Cam would want to see other people. So I never thought about Christmas, until Black Friday, and then, seeing all the commercials on TV, I was just like,
Oh, shit. Guess maybe I should get it together, huh?
And once I started thinking about it, I thought of a thousand things he’d love. Only problem was, I didn’t have any money. And even if I wanted to, there was no work anymore—there weren’t even babysitting jobs around here anymore. So, basically, there was nothing I could afford to buy him, and after a couple weeks, it put me in a mood.

Every day we got closer to Christmas, the more it bummed me out—showed, too. One day, after school, I got so worked up about it that we almost had a fight. I mean, not a fight-fight, but
we were sitting in our booth at Silver Top, one day, and Cam’s like, All right, enough with the attitude and mopey face, Thee. Seriously, what’s the problem? So I just told him, Look, I’m sorry, but I’m stressed out about Christmas, because I don’t know what to get you, since I don’t have any money to get you anything, and—. He cut me off, and then he goes, This is what you’ve been pouting about? I go, I haven’t been pouting, and I cocked my head, and he goes, You’ve been a bit prickly, Thee. I was like, Cam, what do you expect? I’m stressed, okay. I told you. Cam goes, This is what you’ve been stressed about? I said, Yes, and he goes, I thought you hated Christmas? And I said, I do, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to spend money I don’t have like everyone else, and that got him. He laughed, sitting back.

Come on, Thee, let’s just forget about Christmas, and instead, how about you stop moping and getting all stressed out about what you can’t get me that I don’t really need anyhow? I said no. No, I said, shaking my head, no way, out of the question. Why not? he said, and I said, Because, and he said, Because why? So I told him, Because I’ve never had a boyfriend, and it’s my first Christmas with my first boyfriend, and I’ve never had anyone special to get stressed out about, and I want to get you something really excellent, just so unbelievably fucking cool you remember it for the rest of your life, that’s why!
Duh
, I said, really practically kicking my foot against the opposite side of the booth, pushing myself back into my seat, folding my arms.

Cam looked at me for a moment, seeing I wasn’t kidding, and he goes, Okay. Listen, he said, you know those times when you say you don’t understand why I think you’re crazy and you
want me to name one time you were ever crazy? Well, this is one of those times, he said, leaning over the table, reaching for my hands—making a joke out of it, right? It’s not funny, I said, turning away. Good. Because I wasn’t joking, Thee, he said, sitting back, and I looked at him, totally unamused. Hey, how about this? How about we celebrate Christmas by not giving any gifts? How about our gift is no gift, meaning the gift of no stress? Because right now, I think that sounds like a perfect gift, he said. No, I said, shaking my head no, no, that’s not okay. And he goes, Then why don’t you draw something for me, give me one of your pictures—. Cam, I give you drawings and pictures
all the time
, that’s not special! I whined, and he looked at me. And the look in his eyes said so many things; there was no need to open his mouth.

I mean, of course it’s special, I said, apologetically, and he goes, What about the picture you took last week? I hate that picture, I said, like no way, and he goes, I love that picture, and I go, Why? He goes, Because you aren’t posing, you aren’t self-conscious, you’re just you—it’s gorgeous. And I was so flattered, so touched he said that, but still. No way, I said. And he goes, Why is it always about you? He was joking, and then Sharon came over to our booth to check on us. Fill ’er up, honey? she said, seeing Cam’s empty glass. Sharon loves Cam, and he knows it, too. Thanks, Sharon, he said, pushing his empty extralarge brown plastic diner glass over. You betcha, hon, she said. Thea, you doing all right? I’m fine, thanks, I said, smiling. All right, then, she said, leaving us alone again.

Cam leaned forward, grabbed both my hands, and he goes, You’re serious about this? Do I not look serious to you? I asked, and he goes, Well, then. If you really want to give me something special—. Then I totally cut him and his dirty mind off; I go, Oh, here we go, slouching in the booth, my arms still crossed, biting my tongue between my incisors. Because I’ll tell you exactly what I want, he said, and I was trying so hard not to laugh, not to smile, pulling away, like, get your dirty brain and your filthy hands off me.

I go, Actually, you know what? No presents, I said. Brilliant idea: no presents, no gifts, no giving. Cam reached over and grabbed my hand, like it or not, pulling me forward, and then he turned my hand and bit the side, waiting to see what I’d do. Doesn’t hurt, I said, watching him, and then he bit harder. Nothing, I said, taunting him, and then he bit hard enough his teeth were showing. I just held still, watching his front teeth making a mark, feeling them reaching the bones in my hand. Still can’t feel it, I said, and I knew it should hurt, but I still didn’t feel a thing. Nope, I said, and watching his lips pull back, I knew he was about to bite as hard as he could—.

Cameron, let me get you a menu, son, Sharon said, stepping forward, and Cam released my hand, wiping his mouth with the back side of his hand, and I pulled my sleeve down, over my wrist, so Sharon wouldn’t see how deep the teeth marks were. Have a sip of this, and cool yourself off, honey, Sharon said, setting down Cam’s second refill of lemonade. We didn’t take our eyes off each other the whole time, and I knew he knew what I was thinking:
Didn’t feel a thing, bite as hard as you like. I wasn’t going to cry uncle.
Ah, young love, Sharon said, sighing, and I had to look out the window, biting the inside of my lip to keep from laughing. It was almost dark, and I could see Cam’s reflection, his beautiful face grinning back at me in the diner window, and just above his head, the first star in the sky.

(EIGHT WEEKS LATER)

7:12 PM

I looked like a bag lady. Then, when Knox opened the door, seeing me, standing there with all these bags of clothes, Knox’s face looked like he had this terrifying thought that I was going to ask him if I could move in with them. I said, Relax. I’m giving Mel a makeover, that’s all.

Knox had to work late, and Heather’s mom was really sick, so she was out of town every weekend, so I asked if I could hang with Mel. At first, I didn’t think Knox would agree, but then he helped me rearrange the furniture so I could set up a table for makeup and a mirror. All set, I said, meaning he could leave, and then he gave Mel a kiss good-bye, telling her to be good. Thea, if anything happens, he said, warning me, and I go, Knox, nothing is going to happen—come on, you don’t do anything when someone does your hair and makeup: you just close your eyes and
chill. When he finally left, I was just like, Mel, ohmygod, your dad, and she goes,
Don’t get me started
, so I didn’t.

Anyhow, I think it was really calming for her—it feels good, having someone do your makeup, brushing your hair. Kind of like a massage, and Melody has such beautiful skin, too. Porcelain, and she always says she has such white skin because she’s like human veal, ha, ha, ha, but that’s not it. They take her out more than I’m ever outside, trust me. No, she just had that really beautiful white, white skin. Her hair would be great, too, if you set it in rollers. So that’s what I decided to do, set her hair in rollers while I did her makeup.

Honestly, I couldn’t believe how beautiful she looked, so I took all these pictures. I wanted to put her in all these different outfits, too, and I did, but it was a lot of work. I almost broke a sweat, changing her, and I know it was hard for Mel, letting me do that, changing her clothes for her. It’s this horrible thought that she’s a burden, and it passes through me, this jolt, when her muscles tense, like she’s trying to protect herself, but she can’t. And when I feel her body do that, I see her again the way the rest of the world sees her, but still. That night, when I turned her around, in front of the mirror and I did the big reveal, she gasped, saying,
Ohmygod, is that me?
That’s you, I said, and for once, I knew how Cam felt, showing me that girl I didn’t see. And I wished so badly he was there, so I could tell him, but then I had to turn away, because my eyes got all teary.

Thee, I want to ask you something
, Mel said, when I sat down again. I knew what she was going to say before she asked. And I knew there was no getting out of it, either. I tried to hide
them, covering myself when I got undressed, but I knew she must have seen. And she knew, somehow she just knew, and I guess I just hoped she’d leave it alone, but no.
How could you do that?
she said, and I looked at my hands.
How can you take a razor and do that to yourself?
That’s the thing, I said. It won’t make sense to you, because the same force you feel not to do that to yourself, whatever that instinct is, self-preservation, whatever, I felt the opposite pull to do it. I
had
to do it: it wasn’t a choice anymore than breathing. Sometimes I didn’t even want to do it, but I had to.
Did you ever ask for help?
And I knew she didn’t mean to sound so snotty, I know, but she did.

Look, Mel, you got your bad wiring; I got mine. I mean, why do you think we’re so different?
Because I would never do that to myself
, she said, and I said, How can you know that, Mel? Seriously, I’m not asking you to understand, but I am asking you not to judge me. She goes,
I don’t judge you, Thea
, and I go, Well, you should hear yourself in my head.
I’m just telling you how I feel
, she said.
Thinking of you doing that to yourself, it hurts. That’s what I’m trying to say
, she said, and I go, You don’t understand, and she goes,
No, I don’t, so tell me.

I just sighed, so not wanting to get into it, but needing to, at the same time. I said, It’s just this, this pressure that used to build. At first, it feels annoying, like you have a splinter, and you want to take it out—drives you crazy, and you have to get it out. Except that the splinter starts getting bigger, all this pressure starts building, and it’s like you feel it right beneath the skin, but it won’t come out on its own. I never know where I’ll feel it, because sometimes it’s my thigh, or sometimes it’s my arm, but
it’s this huge piece of glass, and I have to cut it out or I feel like I’ll lose my mind. It’s so crazy-making, and all I care about is making the cut so my head doesn’t explode, I said. I stopped talking, and I shivered—just talking about it, telling her even that much, I could feel it closing in again, and it scared me.

Thea
, she said, and I knew she was about to say something I’d never be able to escape. And then she did; she said:
Promise me you won’t do that anymore?
All I could do was let out this big sigh, hearing those words, her voice in my mind. Because it doesn’t work like that. You can’t ask someone to do something for you that… I don’t know, it doesn’t work like that or everyone could just make a promise not to hurt themselves or others. But who in this whole world can make that promise? I was about to argue, but she didn’t care.
Promise me
, she said.

I’ve never wanted to be so honest with anyone. Like even more than Cam in a way, because I never felt like I had to protect him—not when we were together, at least. But with Mel, it’s different. She’s the last person in the world I ever want to hurt, you know? But I had this terrible feeling she’d be the person I hurt the most, the worst. I didn’t know how or why, except that it’s just—me. That’s just me.

I can’t even explain what I saw, looking at her then. I reached for my camera and I focused, taking a picture of her, in profile. Her perfect little nose, her beautiful white skin, hair all curled and her lashes curled and lips glossed. She looked like a girl getting ready for a big date on Friday night. What could I do? I promise, Mel, I said, putting my camera down for a second, sure
I got the shot.
Thank you
, she said.
Now show me
, she said, her voice changing, sounding excited, wanting me to show her the pictures I’d just taken.

I think she knows now. I mean, when I showed her some of the pictures I took of us, Mel couldn’t even believe it. She didn’t say anything, looking at them, but I knew. I mean, I knew it was a lot for her to take it, a lot of thinking was changing, seeing herself so differently, and she does the same for me, too. Honestly, Mel showed me things about myself even Cam had never seen. Like just because you make some mistakes… I mean, even really bad mistakes, and you hurt so many people, being stupid, that doesn’t mean you can’t make it right, do good—change, even. Then she goes,
Thee, I’m tired of all this hiding, all the secrets. I want my mom to know—we aren’t doing anything wrong, and I don’t want to hide anymore.
I thought about it, and I go, I don’t blame her, really, for wanting you to stay away from me, my life, and Mel said,
I do. I blame her every day.

I said, Mel, you have no idea, and she goes,
I have no idea? You’re wrong: I have a very good idea, and when do I get to have a life, too? A few hours every week, don’t I deserve that much?
I said, Mel, of course you do, and she goes,
I want to talk to my dad, when he gets home. Tonight
, she said. I go, All right. But you know what he’s going to say, and she said,
I do. But he has no idea what I’m going to say, does he?
I go, What are you going to say, Mel? She said,
That he has to tell my mom about you, everything.
She was so serious, I took a deep breath. Then I said, I know what you’re saying, but I don’t know that it’s that simple.
I disagree
, she said.
If he wants to live a lie, that’s his decision, but he has no right to make that choice for me.
I knew what she was saying, and she was braver than me and Knox combined. That’s when I realized that I needed Mel much more than she needed me. Then she goes,
So are we going to talk to him or not?
All right, I said, let’s get ready.