Spiral (33 page)

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Authors: Jacqueline Levine

BOOK: Spiral
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Now I’m restless and angry. I know I need to get out and go somewhere else, but I can’t think of any place to go, and I refuse to call Mica. I take a shower, hoping that will clear my head and make her scent disappear. But Cherie’s scent is following me. Maybe it’s my imagination, but I can’t get rid of it no matter what I do.

I decide to go for a run, convinced that staying trapped in that room, surrounded by Cherie and awaiting my mother’s second interrogation, is going to drive me insane. Throwing my bedroom door open, I pull on my sneakers and gather my keys. My mom and Jim are talking alone at the table now, and that only means they’ve finished with Cherie. I wonder nervously if Cherie told them the truth about last night and, more importantly, where she is now.

The only thing I can do is let my feet carry me far away from my house and the trouble I’ll face with Cherie or them later.

CHAPTER 33

I
return from my run ready to face the worst. I know my mom will want to talk more, and I just have to be prepared for her to know the truth. I take a deep breath as I stand on the doorstep and suddenly hear faint yet angry banter on the other side. Jim and my mom are fighting for the first time, I think. I push the door open gently and step inside of the house just as Jim’s voice rises a little. He and my mom are arguing in the kitchen, and they don’t notice I’ve come in.

“He encouraged it, Eva!”

“Jim, I told you, it’s in his nature to take care of others.”

“Eva, look, I was his age once. If a girl like Cherie asked to sleep in my room, I’d have rolled out the red carpet!” he declares. Hearing the way he says it makes me sound real bad. “I’m saying it for the last time: Jack took advantage of a lonely, confused girl.”

I’m furious that he would think something like that of me, but I’m even more horrified when my mom doesn’t quickly slam the book closed on the thought. I sneak closer to listen in, hiding behind the foyer wall.

She finally says, “And why would a girl like Cherie ask to sleep in his room if she didn’t like him? Why Jack and not the twins if it was all about seeking comfort?”

Jim is grasping for a reason. “I don’t know! She’s always fighting with the girls, and she thought she could trust him since he’s supposed to be family!”

“Jim, don’t be silly. If anything,
Cherie
took advantage of
Jack
. She knows he’s a nice kid, and she probably knew he had a little crush on her. She’s the celebrity, and one with a party reputation, obviously – who knows what she does when she goes gallivanting drunk all over Hollywood?” My mom is defending me for the first time in ages.

Then her tone changes. “Look, it doesn’t matter who seduced who. They clearly did more than just sleep together. You saw how hurt she was when he said he didn’t have feelings for her. And I know Jack – he would never have had a problem being honest with me if there wasn’t something big to hide. Say what you will, but he’s never openly lied to me like that before.”

My stomach flips. I’m caught. We’re caught. But how? Did Cherie tell them? Humiliation floods through me. I can never look at my mother or Jim again. I wish I’d never laid a hand on Cherie.

“Fine,” Jim says gruffly. “Now what do we do about it?”

My mom sighs. “I don’t know. It’s a sensitive thing to talk about. Cherie’s been through so much, and this is clearly hurting her. I guess I should talk to Jack and tell him it’s not okay and he can’t have that kind of relationship with her.”

Jim scoffs. “Eva, you were a kid once. You know that as soon as someone tells you that you can’t be with someone that only makes it more appealing. We could have serious trouble on our hands; Cherie’s been sneaking in and out of this house all week; she’s even had boys over and I had no idea. How are we going to stop
them both
from doing anything when they live together?”

I realize then that he’s looked at the video for sure and has seen her go into my room every night, even on Sunday after her friends left. Well, at least they knew I was being honest about that.

She replies, “Well, we have to trust Jack to do the right thing, I guess, until Cherie is more stable.”

Jim sighs heavily. “That’s not going to work, Eva.”

“Well, what do you suggest?” Jim is quiet at first. I nearly hug the wall in anticipation, waiting for him to answer.

He concludes, “We have to separate them. What about Darla? She and Leroy love Jack; they’d love to have him live with them, and Jack would get to move back to New York.”

I slump down to the ground and hug my knees to my chest.
He wants to
get rid of me?

My mom’s voice nearly shrieks, “I am not sending my son away!”

“Eva, calm down, it’s only a suggestion. Just think: he hated the idea of moving out here, and all his friends live in New York. He doesn’t get along with the twins. Now he and Cherie are one bad decision away from getting her pregnant, and then he will really run for the hills. He’s already missing; this is just a plan for if he even comes back.”

“He will come back, Jim. I know my son,” mom replies angrily.

“I’m just saying, apple tree…”

“Don’t,” she bites. I have never heard her speak so viciously. Then her voice wavers with a little uncertainty. “He will come home; he probably just went for a run.”

“Well, even if he does, I’m sure he’s dying to get out. Does it really pay to force him to live here?” he asks.

I can’t believe what I’m hearing. I want to cover my ears to block out his words, but I’m frozen in place.

Jim makes it sound like I would choose to leave if I could; like I’ve already abandoned all of them just to get away from Cherie. As though escape is the only thing I want, and that I don’t care how it hurts anyone else, especially my mom.

That’s not me; that’s someone else. That’s someone I promised I would never be. Wrath builds like a roaring train shooting through my body. His assumption sparks a fire inside that is so fierce that I don’t have the strength to rein it in.

I will never be my father.

I get to my feet, quietly sneak back outside, and go to the casita. I’m tired of people deciding what will happen to me, tired of falling into step with the plans of others. I’m taking my life back into my control and doing what I know is right, not what they think is right for me. I’m going to call Cherie and tell her exactly how I feel. It’s up to her if I stay or go, not them, not me. I’m going to tell her that, if she wants, I’ll be everything to her. I’ll be her security blanket, her boyfriend, whatever. Jim and Mom are not going to keep us apart just because they think they have to; no one can and no one will.

I throw open my bedroom door and see my bed is perfectly made with new sheets and pillowcases, not bare like I had left it before. My bed’s condition must have been how Mom knew more happened; she’s not a dumb lady.

I swallow my shame, shoving it deep down so I can muster the determination I had a second ago. I pick up my phone and dial Cherie’s number. It rings three times before she answers on the other end.

But she doesn’t say hello. There are a lot of voices in the background, and hers is not one of them.

“Cherie?” I say. No response. “Cherie, you there?”

She finally clears her throat. “Yeah, I’m here.”

“Are you okay?” I ask immediately, hearing the heaviness in her voice.

“Yes, I’m fine.”

“Can we talk? In person, I mean. Are you home?” I hear how pathetically hopeful my last question sounds.

“No, I’m out.”

Mom and Jim actually let her leave the house? I’m beyond puzzled. What are they thinking? “Where are you?”

She sighs again. “I’m with Carl and Betsy. They wanted to take me to dinner.”

“Oh.” My guts swirl as I think back to that last night in New York, picturing Carl’s swollen and stubby fingers trying to hold Cherie steady. Mom and Jim have no idea that Carl and Betsy are just as bad as influences as her Kidz Channel friends.

I try to shake the sudden worry from my head. “Cherie, please come home. I’m worried about you being with them.”

“I’m fine, Jack. Thank you for your concern.”

“No, you’re not. We need to talk, about everything.”

She’s quiet for a moment before, with interview-worthy professionalism, she says, “No, Jack, we can’t talk anymore. I think it’s best we just stay apart.”

“Huh?” My jaw almost hits the floor. My heart beats double. “Why?”

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea for us to be around each other right now,” she interrupts, her tone saccharine. “I hope you can understand.”

“Well, I don’t.” I’m getting mad. My neck starts to heat up, and my shoulders are tight. “Why are you talking like that?”

“Jack, we said that we couldn’t be together anymore,” she replies. “And now, after last night and how violent you were with Dominick, it just makes me nervous that you’re too unstable for me. I’m recovering from a terrible tragedy, and I need to be surrounded by positive people.”

The answer sounds manufactured by none other than Betsy. But this isn’t the paparazzi she’s talking to – it’s me! I live with her; she’s slept with me! Don’t I deserve more than a programmed robot response?

“Me? I’m the negative force in your life? Are you serious?”

“I just need to be surrounded by positive people and people who want to see me get through this,” she replies evenly.

I can’t believe she thinks I’d buy this bullshit for one second. “Cherie, don’t give me that damned prepared statement crap,” I bark. “I’m not just some random jerk off the street – this is me you’re talking to!” I know my anger is getting the better of me, and I try to soften my tone. “Cherie, please. Just give me a chance to talk to you – ”

“I’m sorry, Jack,” she says haltingly. I hear her sniffle a little before she recovers herself. “This is how it has to be, and I hope you can appreciate my boundaries.”

“No, you owe me more than that,” I growl. “Look if you really wanted space from me, that would be fine, but I don’t think you do – I think they’re telling you to say all of this. Where are you – I’ll come and get you right now.”

“I’m sorry, Jack.” She hiccups a small sob, and it’s the only thing that convinces me that she doesn’t mean what she’s saying. If it hurts her enough to make her cry, she doesn’t want to say any of these things.

Right?

“I know you don’t mean this, Cherie,” I say firmly, never doubting myself more than I do in this moment.

I hear a voice in the background tell her to hang up. She whimpers, “I have to hang up now.”

“Fine!” I laugh, seething, hoping Carl and Betsy can hear me. “Let them run your life for the next few hours! I’m not going to give up, Cherie. You know why? Because I love you. They don’t – they love the money you make for them. They just want you to look perfect all the time, but I want you to be happy.

“Go ahead and do what they say, Cherie, because I’m just going to wait until you come home. They might control you out there, but they don’t control what happens in this house. When you get home, we are going to talk about this without your goddamn puppet masters controlling everything you say!”

I hear her sob, “I know. I’m so sorry.” The voice telling her to hang up grows more stern.

I hear a whimper and more muffled noises. “Cherie? Cherie!” The line goes dead, and my screen blinks that the call has ended. I curse, slam the phone down on my dresser, and charge out to the driveway.

Why is she talking to me like this? How could she let them get between us? Whatever it is she’s being made to say, she won’t be able to hide behind her cellphone when we come face to face. I’m going to find out how she really feels as soon as she pulls into this driveway. And she will have to cross my path eventually. At least, I hope she does.

I open my car door and slide into the front seat. I’ll just wait in my car so she doesn’t have the chance to sneak in. I’ll wait all night if I have to.

DIRTERAZZI.COM

AND CHERIE'S TRUE KNIGHT IN SHINING ARMANI ARMOR IS…

Someone, quick, pinch us, because we think we’re dreaming! It appears someone is finally, FINALLY, stepping in to put a stop to the Cherie Belle tornado of trouble before she completely spirals out of control.

Carl Schwartz, Cherie’s manager, has reportedly had it with her antics and her wild partying nights, especially in light of the recent debacle at Club Fly. He is putting Cherie on lockdown and plans to seek her removal from the custody of James Goldman, Cherie’s uncle and current absentee guardian. We here at Dirterazzi think this is the best move for Cherie’s health and well-being; her new guardians just are not equipped to handle the life of a young celebrity, are too overwhelmed with their current brood of children, and have allowed a sixteen year old to run rampant through the streets of Hollywood without any supervision. Sources close to Cherie’s camp tell us that Carl plans to meet with her guardians later today to convince them to allow him to adopt her since he has no children of his own and loves Belle like a daughter. If they won’t cooperate, Schwartz will seek more drastic measures to get the job done. Stay tuned!

CHAPTER 34

“I
found Jack! He’s in his car! Jack? Jack. C’mon, wake up.”

I feel someone nudging my shoulder. I open my eyes to my steering wheel and the sun glaring into my windshield, forcing me to scrunch them closed again. I must have fallen asleep in my car waiting for Cherie to come home. I turn and see Claudia watching me. She’s the last person I want to wake up to right now.

“You okay?” Her brow is furrowed, her eyes wide and frightened.

“No. Where’s Cherie?”

“I’m not supposed to say–”

“Jesus, never mind,” I grumble groggily, climbing out of the driver’s seat and pushing past her.

I hear my mother’s voice screech from inside, “Jack!” That’s the second to last person I want to wake up to right now, and Claudia practically tags her in as she disappears into the house.

Mom runs out of the front door, her eyes wider than Claudia’s and her hair frazzled. I know just by looking at her that she spent the whole night frantically pacing and calling police and crying. Was she really that worried about me? She races forward and throws her arms around me, smothering me with kisses and anger and tears of joy all at once.

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