High Heels and Lipstick (7 page)

“You know the season's over.” Holly hung up her jacket and took off her sneakers. “I wish this stupid town would do a better job clearing the sidewalks. My feet are soaked.”

“There are these things called ‘winter boots.'” Evan crossed his legs and leaned forward like he was stretching. “And sometimes they have reruns of past seasons or have the show on demand.”

“There's this thing called ‘boots cost a ton, and last year's have a hole in the bottom.' And we have homework that has nothing to do with looking fabulous, so no, I'm not going to see if there are reruns.” Holly glanced at me. “Chastaine, you don't have to just stand there. Take off your stuff. Don't worry about hanging up your coat.”

“Okay.” I didn't know why I was standing awkwardly on the mat inside the door. I felt like I should have been doing something other than hanging out with Holly and Evan, but I couldn't figure out what.

Something felt wrong about me being there. I didn't belong, and I would only cause one or both of them to get hurt. Just like I had with Maryellen.

“Are you okay?” Holly asked softly. She moved closer to me. “God, what a dumb question.”

“Chastaine?” Evan scrambled to his feet. “You should sit down.”

“I'm fine.” My voice kind of croaked, and my chest was so tight, I couldn't get much air. I didn't know what the hell was going on, and I wasn't happy about it.

“No, you aren't,” Holly said firmly. She took hold of my arm. “Come into my room while I change my socks. Evan, want to order some food, please?”

“Yeah. Pizza and fries?” He took his wallet out of the back pocket of his skinny jeans. “I'll cover it. You owe me next time, Holly.”

“Yeah. Whatever. Sausage pizza. Steak fries. Baklava. I need sugar.” She tugged me toward the stairs.

I followed her because she wasn't leaving me much choice, and because the room was spinning and I needed to sit down. Or maybe lie down. My eyes watered, and my heart was doing weird things like beating too fast then not at all for a second or two.

“What's going on?” I mumbled as Holly led me upstairs to her room.

“You need to breathe.” She glanced at me. “I should have left you down there. You could have sat on the couch.”

“I'm fine.” My lips felt numb, and our voices were coming from about a mile away.

“You're breathing funny, and you're pale as hell. Sit down.”

“Here?” We were at the top of the stairs. I started to look over my shoulder, but turning my head made the spinning worse.

“Yes.” Holly hesitated. “No. Maybe that's a bad idea. Come on.”

We got moving again, which was good. The longer we stood still, the more my legs shook. Holly's room was right beside the stairs. She led me in and made me sit on the floor, which was way too awkward in my miniskirt. I decided it wasn't worth caring about.

“Pull your knees up and bend your head forward.” Holly knelt beside me. “Try to take even breaths. Maybe I should call your—”

“Hell no.”

“Okay. Then breathe.”

I did what she said, even though pulling my knees up pushed my skirt way higher than I wanted. Not that it mattered with only Holly sitting there, though I didn't exactly want her seeing the thong I wore under my panty hose. I didn't know whether she noticed. I had to close my eyes so I wouldn't see how bad the room kept whirling.

After a couple of minutes, I didn't feel as woozy. “That sucked.” I looked at Holly, who was still beside me.

“Yeah. Are you okay?” She looked concerned. “I thought you were okay on the way here.”

“I was. I don't know what happened.” I didn't want to figure it out. I stretched out my legs and crossed my ankles, then straightened my skirt so I wouldn't show more than I wanted to. “Sorry for the show.”

She chuckled. “No problem. I didn't think you did it on purpose or anything. That's a cute skirt, anyway.”

“Thanks.” It was one of the tight, pull-on skirts a store at the mall sold for ten bucks apiece. I had a closetful of them. This one had a blue and turquoise floral pattern, and I'd paired it with a turquoise low-cut sweater. My usual style. Even though my clothes apparently gave people another reason to think I deserved to be treated like shit, I refused to dress differently. I'd been wearing the same kind of thing since middle school.

“I wish I could dress like you.” She looked down at herself. She had a cute body as far as I was concerned, but her frown said she didn't think so. “Maybe if I lost twenty pounds.”

“You aren't fat or anything.”

She shrugged. “I guess. I can't wear the same kinds of things as you, though. You're built like the magazine models. I'm the chubby girl who gets all the comic relief best friend parts in plays.”

“You aren't chubby either,” I snapped. “Knock it off with the putting yourself down. You're pretty. Maybe you could use some fashion advice from Evan, but it isn't because of what you weigh or what your body looks like. It's just that you dress like you think you're fat.”

I didn't know why I was saying any of that. It was all true, but I sounded like a bitch. I didn't want to hurt Holly's feelings. The way she dressed wasn't any of my business, even though she wore a baggy gray sweater, which made her face look almost yellow, with a pair of mom jeans.

“Evan keeps saying the same thing.” Holly sighed. “I don't know. I don't always dress this crappy. It's just warm. Some of the classrooms seriously need their heating units fixed.”

“Yeah.” I hesitated. “Sorry.”

“For what?” She stood and went over to the bureau. “I'm not ignoring you, but my feet are turning into ice cubes with these damn wet socks.”

“For criticizing your clothes.” I managed to get up from the floor sort of gracefully. I felt a lot steadier, but my legs were still shaking a little.

“It's okay.” She smiled at me over her shoulder. “You're right. I feel fat, especially when most of my friends are skinny and everyone's always talking about dieting and going to the gym and stuff. We can't afford a gym membership except at one of the ten bucks a month places, and I'd only be able to go to one of those after my parents get out of work because I don't have my license yet.”

She took a long breath. “And now I'm babbling and making excuses. Truth is, I don't mind walking and stuff, but I don't like actually working out. And I like to eat.”

“Nothing wrong with that.” When she mentioned eating, it clued me in on why I'd probably gone all wonky. “I used to like to eat, but now I forget half the time. I didn't eat lunch, did I?”

“Not that I saw.” She finally pulled two socks out of the bureau and closed the drawer. One sock was pink with darker pink polka dots. The other was purple with little Easter eggs all over it. She sat on the bed. “That's why you almost passed out?”

“Yeah, probably.” Since I'd puked so many times after breakfast, and a few more times after I'd gone back to school from Kendra's, there probably hadn't been anything at all in my stomach all day. I'd gotten so used to not eating or not being able to keep food down that I hadn't even realized it.

“Hopefully Evan ordered food already.” She tossed her wet socks into the corner of the room and put on the dry ones. “Maybe sometime you can help me put some outfits together? You definitely know clothes. I can't go shopping or anything, but maybe we can find stuff I already have that doesn't look so schlubby.”

“I can probably give you some of my stuff.” That sounded like I was offering her charity, so I tried to explain what I meant. “I have clothes I haven't even worn, and some I've only worn once or twice. They're just gathering dust.”

“Your clothes wouldn't fit me, Chastaine.” Holly rolled her eyes. “Seriously? You're at least twenty-five, thirty pounds lighter than me.”

She was probably right, but some of the clothes were too big for me. I'd lost weight since the whole reporting Jim thing happened. I didn't want to say that, though. She might have thought I agreed that she was fat, and she definitely wasn't. Maybe a little curvy, but that wasn't a bad thing at all. I liked the way her body looked.

What the hell am I even thinking?
I noticed other girls' bodies, but it was usually critiquing their looks or wishing I had their boobs or legs or something. Not like this, where I was thinking how cute Holly was and how if she wore the right thing, her curves would have guys drooling.

Obviously at some point, I'd lost my mind. I was thinking about Holly's looks the way I thought about some of the guys I hooked up with. I just hoped Holly wouldn't realize it.

“Hey.” She waved her hand in front of my face. “Did you fall asleep or something?”

“Just thinking. I probably shouldn't be.” I grinned. “I have clothes I bet would fit you. Maybe you can come over this weekend. I would say tomorrow, but my mom won't be home Saturday, so that would probably be better.” Before everything hit the fan, Mom had never bugged my friends and me. But the couple of times people had come over lately, she hadn't left us alone or even let us go to my room. It annoyed the hell out of me, and I didn't want Holly to have to put up with it.

“Yeah.” Her expression brightened. “I mean, I really don't think anything you have will fit me, but I wouldn't mind coming over.”

“Hey, are you guys going to hide from me forever?” Evan called from downstairs.

“Chill, Evan.” Holly stood. “Okay. Let's get back down there before his head explodes or something.”

“Yeah.” I didn't want to go back downstairs. I wanted to hang out with Holly away from Evan for a while longer.

But the wish didn't make any sense, so I just left the room ahead of Holly and headed down.

I
STAYED
at Holly's as late as I could without having my mom or dad call or freak out. Evan left at the same time I did and offered to walk me home, but I turned him down. Walking by himself had made him twitchy since Jim and Ray attacked him, and since he lived beyond the high school, he had a long way to go already. My house was in the opposite direction from his, and I didn't want him to have to walk any farther than he already had to.

Until I got to my house, I didn't realize I was holding my breath. Walking after dark had always worried me a little, because the news was full of stories about what happened to females who were stupid enough to be alone outside at night. I'd never had any problems, but with my current situation, taking chances wasn't as easy as it had been.

My parents were still sitting at the dining room table. My brothers Andy and Marcus were there too. That didn't mean anything good. Usually they were working or hanging out with friends at night. Both of them were in college. They lived at home to save on dorm and meal fees, but they were rarely actually at the house.

“We were getting worried,” Mom said in an accusing tone. “I tried calling your cell.”

“Sorry. I didn't hear it.” There was one empty chair. She probably expected me to sit in it, but I stayed on my feet. This whole thing felt like a confrontation setup, and I didn't feel like dealing with it. “I already ate. Pizza at Holly's.”

“You told me that was the plan.” Mom impatiently waved her hand toward the vacant chair. “Sit down.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but Dad's glare stopped me. Mom was easy to work around, but I knew better than to try it with my father. I sat.

“You should have come home after your appointment with Kendra.” Mom folded her hands on the table in front of her. “I didn't think you going back to school was a good idea. And then you didn't even come home after school. Do you think you should have gone off with your friends?”

“Um, yeah.” I didn't see why it was a problem. Until November, I'd almost never come straight home after school. And on the rare occasions when I had, I'd gone out later. “I wanted to be around people who don't act like I'm broken, not sitting here with you or sitting alone in my room.”

“Respect your mother,” Dad said.

“Sorry.” It wasn't easy to be respectful when she was acting like I'd done something horrible by spending time with people I actually wanted to be around. I looked at my brothers. “Is this some kind of intervention or something? I don't drink, I don't do drugs, and I'm not addicted to anything else except maybe chocolate.”

“We asked your brothers to be here for moral support,” Dad said. “Chastaine, you've been through a lot lately. First turning in that boy and all the harassment you've had to deal with. Now what happened to that girl. Your mother told me how worried she is about you.”

“Oh.” Now I got it. Mom was afraid. Mom was
always
afraid lately when it came to me. She probably thought I would follow Maryellen's example, like Kendra had. From Kendra, the concern made sense. She was a counselor, and for all I knew she'd had other clients who had killed themselves. So of course she would worry about it.