Dawn by McKayla Box
Chapter 15
I’m not sure how long I stand in the parking at The Hut before I finally walk back to my car and drive home. I feel like I’ve come back to some parallel universe where everything is the same, but different. The places, the beach, the ocean, the businesses are all the same.
But my boyfriend?
His best friend?
Like I don’t even know them.
I walk back into my house and stand in the living room because I’m at a loss as for what to do now. I wish that my dad had planned some trip for us, or that I’d even gone up to visit my mother. Anything feels like it would be better than coming home to this.
I head to my room and my phone is on the bed where I left it. There are four calls from Trevor and three voicemails. I delete them without listening to them. He’s sent me a dozen or so texts, all different versions of asking me to answer my phone.
But there’s also a text from Bridget.
Hey. I need to do some Christmas shopping. You in?
She just sentit five minutes ago, so I respond.
I’m in. Yes. Please. Anything.
She answers right away.
Lol. On my way to get you now. Be there in five.
I’mgrateful to have the distraction and after I use the bathroom and brush my hair, I walk outside to wait for her.
She pulls up to the curb a minute later. “Get in, loser! We’re going shopping!”
I laugh for what feels like the first time all day and do as instructed.
She turns down the radio and looks at me. “How are you?”
“Fine. Why?”
“You were not fine at lunch,” she says. “I don’t really have to go shopping today, but I figured it gave me a good excuse to come get you and see how you are.”
“Oh,” I say. “Honestly, I have no idea how I am. Things are more fucked up than even before lunch.”
She glances in the rearview mirror and pulls away from the curb. “More? How?”
I lean back in the seat. “Let’s see. I saw some strange girl – a different one – in Trevor’s bedroom. And I just saw Brett at The Hut and he looks like he hasn’t slept in weeks and he yelled at me.”
“The fuck?” she says, glancing at me. “Explain.”
I tell her everything that’s happened since I saw her at lunch. She listens without interrupting me and shakes her head a couple of times. By the time we pull into the lot at The Sunset Promenade, I’ve told her everything.
“Jesus,” she says as she pulls into a parking spot. “What the hell is happening, Pres?”
“Wish I knew. I mean, I really wish I knew. But I’m totally clueless.”
“What did Trevor say in his voicemails?”
“I deleted them without listening.”
“Can’t say I blame you,” she says. She puts her hand on my arm. “I’m sorry.”
My throat tightens and I turn away from her, trying to keep my emotions under control. “Me, too.”
I don’t want to sit there and mope or cry, so I clear my throat and hop out of the car. Bridget takes the hint and does the same.
The parking lot is crowded and Christmas music drifts from the outdoor speakers. The light posts are wrapped in green and red tinsel and each one is topped with a cutout of Santa or Frosty. Even in sunny Southern California, it feels like Christmas.
The Promenade is a sprawling, outdoor mall with every store and restaurant known to humanity. I’m not a huge shopper, so I haven’t spent a ton of time here, but I’ve been enough times to know it’s the nicest mall I’ve ever been to. And it’s the opposite of the malls I was used to growing up in Virginia. There, all of the malls were multi-level, indoor structures that felt the same all year long. But The Promenade, like most of the other malls in Southern California, is a single-level outdoor shopping complex with benches and fountains and feels more like what I imagine a small European village to feel like.
As we walk toward the stores, I notice the entire mall is completely decorated for the holidays. A large Christmas tree sits in front of the entrance to the food court, right next to a small hut claiming to be Santa’s workshop. Most of the stores have created holiday scenes in their windows. All we’re missing is the snow.
“I wonder if Maddie could get anything out of Brett,” Bridget says as we walk.
I should have known she wasn’t going to drop the subject completely.
“I don’t know,” I say. “And I’m not sure it’s worth it.”
“It’s weird that she’d heard he wasn’t doing okay and then you, like, see it.”
“I’m telling you, Bridge. He looks like shit, and I don’t mean that in a terrible way.”
“I believe you,” she says. “And for what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re overreacting or being crazy about any of this. I know I told you earlier to just talk to Trevor, but I don’t know now. Everything you’ve told me is just…weird.”
“I know,” I say. “I appreciate you caring, but I don’t really want to talk about this crap right now. Let’s shop and actually have a good time.”
She links her arm with mine. “Deal.”
And we do. For the next couple of hours, we find gifts for family and friends. We sing along to the Christmas songs. We laugh at silly ideas for presents. We get iced coffees and talk to each other about school. It feels normal, and it’s a really nice break from the crap that I’ve experienced for the last 24 hours.
Right up until we’re passing the fountain and I hear a voice that’s like a nail in my spine.
“Oh, great,” Shanna says. “I guess whores shop for Christmas, too.”
Bridget and I both stop. She’s sitting on the wall that encircles the main fountain, a bunch of bags on the ground next to her. Her old cronies, Lisa and Jessica, sit on either side of her, their own bags at their own feet. I’m not sure how anyone can just sit on a wall and come off as a bitch, but these three have it mastered.
“Figured you’d be home with Trevor,” Shanna says, then makes a show of putting her hand over her mouth. “Oops. I forgot. Things might not be all sunny and perfect in Trevor and Presley land.”
Lisa and Jessica both snicker.
“Shut up, Shanna,” Bridget snaps.
“Oh, okay,” she says, but she’s more amused than deterred. “Whatever you say, Bridget.” She smirks at me. “Where is lover boy?” She makes a show of looking around. “I’m used to seeing him chase after you, but I don’t see him anywhere.”
A muscle in my jaw twitches but I don’t say anything.
“I saw that girl at his house when I drove by, though.” She raises her eyebrows. “She’s kinda hot. You meet her yet?”
My fingers tighten around the handles of my bags.
Shanna laughs. “Guess not, judging by that look on your ugly face.” She pauses. “We all knew he’d get bored with you eventually. I should’ve started a pool. I would’ve made so much money.”
“Come on,” Bridget whispers in my ear. “Fuck her. Let’s go.”
“No,” I say. “I’m not doing this again.”
I set my bags down and walk over so I’m standing right in front of her. I look down at her. “Say it to my face, Shanna. I dare you.”
Shanna’s cheeks go pink. She looks at her friends. She clearly wasn’t expecting me to challenge her and now she’s caught. But far be it from her to ever back down from a challenge, even when it makes her an asshole.
“Say what exactly?” she says, looking up at me.
“Tell me how you knew he’d get bored with me,” I say. “Look me in the eye and tell me that again.”
She laughs, but it’s a nervous laugh and she glances at Lisa and Jessica again. They have the same nervous smiles on their faces and they don’t offer any help. Because of course they don’t.
Finally, Shanna stands up.
I inch closer to her until there’s maybe just a half a foot in between us. The smell of her perfume is nauseatingly sweet. “Say it, you fucking bitch. Say it again.”
Her left eye twitches and then she smiles. “We all knew he’d get bored—”
My hands hit her square in the chest and I shove her as hard as I can. There’s nowhere for her to step back to, though, and she goes straight over into the fountain on her back. A very satisfying splash swallows her up.
There are a few gasps from the people nearby. Jessica and Lisa both scramble to get off the wall and away from me. I stand there, waiting.
Shanna finally pops up, her entire body soaked. Her hair is plastered to her face, her mascara running down her cheeks, and she’s coughing and spitting water everywhere. She shoves some of her wet hair away from her forehead. “What the fuck?”
“This isn’t high school anymore, Shanna,” I tell her. “I’m done taking your shit. Forever. Anytime you think you have something to say to me, you better think very carefully about letting it come out of your mouth. Because if it’s something I don’t like, I’m coming after you. I’m not going to sit back and listen to it. So I’ll push you in a fountain, I’ll punch you in the face, or I’ll do whatever I need to shut you the fuck up.” I stare down at her. “Do you understand me?”
Her mouth sets in an angry line as water drips down her face, but she doesn’t say a word.
“Good,” I tell her. “Now get out of the fountain. People are starting to stare.”
She glances around. People are indeed staring at her just sitting in the fountain.
I turn to Bridget. “Let’s finish our shopping.”
Bridget laughs and once again links her arm with mine. “With pleasure.”