Playground (20 page)

J E N N I F E R S A G I N O R

“Maybe I prefer to be sheltered.”

“Nonsense. That’s a cop-out. You need to prepare for your

future.”

“I’m not even prepared for algebra tomorrow.”

“If you’d stop monkeying around you would be. Go to class.

Take journalism. Do something,” Grampy repeats over and over.

But I cannot hear him.

I look at my life and can see only what is missing.

The next day, I’m in my bedroom filling my stained-glass bong

while Modern English’s “I Melt with You” is on KROQ. The phone

rings. It’s Kendall.

“Hey, kiddo, it’s me,” Kendall whispers in a groggy voice.

“Hey, you. What’s up?” I ask, casually.

“The girls were over last night. We had a little slumber party.

I’m so beat,” she tells me.

“What slumber party?” I ask, putting my lighter down.

“A post-holiday slumber party,” she answers.

My stomach drops because she purposely didn’t include me.

“Thanks for the invite,” I snicker.

“Hey, I would have, but every time I see you, you’re always with

that boy-toy of yours.”

“Oh, come on.”

“It’s true. No guys allowed.”

“Whatever. I would’ve come solo. Who was there?” I ask, dying

to know how left out I’ve become.

“Everyone. Charlie, Natasha, Morgan, Tobey, Austin, even Re-

becca,” she rattles off.

“You invited Rebecca and not me?”

“I can’t deal with this shit right now, okay? My head is throb-

bing.”

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“No, it’s not okay—fuck you for not including me in your little

party!” I scream and slam down the phone.

At school, I kiss ass to my old crew, quickly handing them flyers

for another rager at Dad’s house with no less than five hundred

people.

The Go-Go’s’ “This Town” blares through the outdoor speakers.

I’m on my portable phone running through the house like a crazed

teenager. Mirrored balls hang from the ceiling next to bright neon

lights. Confetti is strewn everywhere. Caterers in uniforms dash by

with trays. Bartenders set up outdoor stations. Troy, the DJ from

the Mansion, spins records while a few security guards on loan

scope out the backyard for trouble.

Three hours later, “White Lines” screams through the house

and backyard. I’m in the bathroom getting ready when Hayden

strolls in and lays out a huge line of coke for me. He hands me a

cracked used straw. After I’m done, I run my finger along the mir-

ror and lick the remainder off.

Friends start to arrive, lining up at my bathroom door. I dip into

my pill drawer and grab handfuls of Xanax, Quaaludes, Valium,

and Percocet. I’ll bet Kendall’s little party is no match for mine.

“What’s up with your dad? We never see him,” Hunter asks,

swallowing a ’lude.

“I thought I’d spare myself the embarrassment of watching

him come on to all my friends,” I say as Amber comes running up

to us.

“Your sister is here and some senior is totally hitting on her!”

Blood rushes to my face.

“Where is he?”

“In the backyard,” Amber reports.

I run down the stairs with a parade of followers trailing behind.

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J E N N I F E R S A G I N O R

Time stops when I see my sister. She’s fourteen now. Her sandy-

blond hair is long, past her shoulders. Her skin is flawless and her

blue eyes huge and innocent. My heart sinks. Sisters aren’t sup-

posed to be separated like this. I never meant to leave her. I

thought it was temporary, that I could change my mind. I never

knew it would become legal. I am too numb to admit that moving

out of my mother’s house cemented a division in our relationship.

Unconscious of my real feelings of anger toward my parents for

allowing this disruption to occur, and clearly unprepared to take

responsibility for my choice, my instincts tell me to attack others

who may come between us.

I spot the senior predator making the moves on her. I race over

and shove him aside.

“Get the fuck off my sister, asshole!” I scream in his face. “I

don’t want to see you touch her, look at her, or see you in the same

fucking room as her! Do you understand me, asshole?”

The security guards stand behind me ready to make a move.

“Jennifer, it’s okay. It’s fine. He wasn’t bugging me.” Savannah

touches my arm.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she answers, petrified by my temper, which I’ve now

clearly adopted from my father.

“All right, well, let me know if he bothers you again,” I say

protectively.

I am unable to get anything else out. Savannah smiles at me.

We hug for a long time and then I retreat back upstairs to my bath-

room and continue doing lines.

The next morning, the house is a disaster and the backyard

is even worse. Hallways are cluttered with leftover friends. Stragglers

lie on rafts in the pool. I’m sprawled out on my bed in my clothes,

while Hayden is passed out on the leather chair in front of the TV.

Out of nowhere, Kendall hops on my bed, surprising me while

I’m still dead asleep.

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Playground

“What are you doing here?” I ask, barely able to open my eyes.

“I came to see you,” she whispers.

“How did you get here?” I ask, half asleep.

“Troy drove me.” She runs her fingers up my back. “Don’t be

mad. You know I’m not even supposed to be here.”

“Oh, well, I guess you better hurry home, princess.”

“Listen, kiddo . . .” She rubs her hands over my arms and legs.

“Hey, Hayden’s . . .”

“Sleeping,” she finishes.

I allow our eyes to meet.

“I’ve missed you,” she says.

“Me too,” I admit softly.

“Come with me,” she whispers. “The limo’s downstairs waiting.

We could go to Mexico and no one would ever find us.”

I giggle like a child, struck again by her audacity.

“You want to take Hef ’s limo to Mexico?”

“Why not?” she smiles, tickling my side.

I forget about Hayden asleep on the chair. I am lost in Kendall’s

deep green eyes and insane plans. She’s out of her mind, but it’s

so easy being with her. We communicate without even having to

speak.

She kisses me lovingly and I move my hand underneath her

Ton sur Ton sweatshirt. Kendall yanks her fringe leather boots off

and lies back down, but before her head hits the pillow, she jerks

suddenly. A chill rose through her as she felt an unexpected appre-

hension. Rebecca, my father’s latest twenty-year-old girlfriend,

stands in my bedroom doorway. I sit up, trying to play it off.

“Hi!” I stutter.

“What are you guys doing?” Rebecca asks, trying to peer in at

Kendall, who’s hiding underneath the sheets.

“Just fuckin’ around. What are you doing here?” I say lightly.

“I just came by to pick up some clothes for your father,” Re-

becca says.

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Hayden’s eyes open. He sits up and scratches his head.

“Great, well, see ya in a bit. . . . Oh, and don’t worry about the

mess, I’m gonna clean it up before Dad gets home.”

Rebecca half smiles and leaves.

I turn to Kendall and whisper, “We’re dead.”

I’m in the car driving with my father; he is explosive, his stare in-

toxicating. I roll the window down to let in some fresh air.

“Why did you bring that slut to our home?” he demands.

“She came on her own,” I tell him.

“Let me make this crystal clear. Under no circumstances do I

want you hanging out with Kendall!”

“Why?” I ask defensively.

“Because she’s a manipulator and a user!”

“Says who?” I shout back, my hostility mounting.

“Says everyone! I trusted your judgment! Obviously I made a

huge mistake!” he yells and I look away.

I did not purposely betray him. I simply need her, her affec-

tion. I need what she gives me, what no one else can provide. I

won’t let anyone take her away from me.

“Let me tell you something, young lady.” Dad spits out. “Let me

reinforce this for the last time. You are crossing a thin line here. If

Hef finds out about your little escapades, you are over. Over! Do

you hear me?”

What I really hear him say is that he’s threatened by his loss of

control over me. He feels powerless and knows the feelings be-

tween Kendall and me won’t keep us apart for very long. His need

to control me is now suffocating. He sounds more jealous than

concerned.

His love has become my enemy.

My resentments begin to escalate into anger. Though I still

don’t know how to voice my feelings, I shut my mouth and concede

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Playground

to his demands, feeling more and more like a prisoner. My father

drops me off at home and drives up to the Mansion.

Rattled, I walk into the house and out to the backyard, where

I find Hayden by the pool. As I come through the French doors,

he climbs out of the pool, runs up to me, and plants a big kiss on

my lips.

“You’re gonna be so happy!” Hayden shouts with vigor. “I just

got off the phone with Universal and I got the lead for that film I

auditioned for!” he shouts.

“Oh, yeah? That’s awesome, Hayden; I’m so proud of you!” I

say, vaguely recalling some meeting in the distant past.

“They’re filming in Italy.”

“Italy?” I stop in my tracks. “How long are you going to be in

Italy?”

Hayden looks at me dumbfounded.

“Between two and four months, depending on how the shoot

goes,” he responds casually.

“Four months? You’re leaving me for four months?” I shout like

a child. “I thought I meant something to you.”

“Here I get the lead in my first major motion picture and

you’re giving me shit because it’s on location?” Hayden yells.

“Just go. Leave, now,” I say. I should’ve known I couldn’t count

on him. I can’t count on anybody. Hayden reaches into his bag,

pulls out his vial of coke, and sniffs a few bumps.

“I don’t get you anymore!” Hayden responds, wiping his nose.

“What are you waiting for? Get out!”

“I don’t believe this!” Hayden grabs his duffel bag. “I thought

you’d be happy for me.”

“I am happy for you,” I hear myself say as tears swell.

I thought you loved me and now you’re leaving me.

Hayden walks to the side gate and lets himself out. When he is

gone, I collapse to my knees in tears, deeply saddened by a vacancy

that lives inside me, crippling me as the anxiety that comes with it

washes over me.

139

Thirteen

I attempt to call Hayden, but he does not answer. Finally, I pick

up the phone, only this time I call Kendall. She and I never discuss

the fact that we are forbidden to see each other. Instead, we make

clandestine arrangements to meet.

It’s midnight and I’m in my bathroom tying sheets together. I

turn up Madonna’s “Papa Don’t Preach” on KIIS-FM and stop to

do a line of coke off the cobalt-blue tile counter. I tiptoe through

my bedroom to the door, opening it slightly. I look down the hall

and see a dim light coming from my father’s room. I peer down-

stairs and see that the alarm system is set. The red light stops me

from using the front door but the windows on the second floor are

unsecured. I retreat back into my bathroom and continue tying

knots in the sheets.