Page 61 of Drifting

She bolts up and lets out a gasp. “You bitch.”

The guys snicker as I get in her face. “I’m not leaving, Carrie, no matter what you do.”

I head out of the cafeteria and walk to the closest bathroom. A glance at myself in the mirror shows that, between the green shirt and the red sauce, I look like I’m wearing Christmas colors.

Taking a handful of paper towels, I try to get most of the sauce off me.

* * *

When I get home, Patty’s waiting for me. She gasps when she sees my shirt. “What happened?”

“Just a misunderstanding,” I tell her.

She put one hand on her hip and holds up a letter in the other. “I guess the trash that damaged your schoolbooks was also a misunderstanding?”

I shrug, heading toward my room. She doesn’t get to be a parent now just because she wants to. I don’t need her. I needed her back when I was seven, the first time shit like this happened.

“Shelby, I’m talking to you! I want to know what happened so I can help.”

This is the last thing I need right now. Today has worn me down, and I don’t have any more patience left. I understand she’s trying, but now is not the time to be my mother.

“You never cared before, Patty. Where were you when they stole my clothes during gym? Or how about the time they spray painted whore on each of my books and locker. I don’t need your help!” I storm into my room and slam the door.

I throw my book bag across the room, then fling myself onto my bed. This week has been one of the hardest I’ve had to deal with. I wish I could at least talk to Cin. I miss her so damn much. I pull my phone out of my back pocket. Do they still have their old landline? Aunt Maria drilled it into our heads when we were little in case we got lost, and my fingers dial the number.

It rings for a while, then a breathless Cin answers. “Hello? This is the Winters’ house, who would you like to speak with?”

What the hell kind of greeting is that? “Cin, it’s me. Are you all right?”

“Shelby?” she barely whispers.

She doesn’t sound right. In the background, I hear a weird sound, like something moving around, then a creaking noise. I know exactly where she is. The phone is in the kitchen, so she’s sitting on the basement steps.

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“Are you okay? Where are you?” she rattles off.

“I’m all right. I have a broken leg and arm. You won’t believe where I’m living. I’m with Patty’s rich, new husband. Can you believe it? I have so much to tell you. I’m so sorry I didn’t listen to you. It’s my fault you’re back there. Are you all right?”

She sniffles. Shit, I made her cry. “Things are bad, Shelby—”

A creaking sound comes from the phone, and Cin swears.

“Cindy you know you’re only allowed to answer the phone. Who would be calling on this old thing?” I hear rustling and Cin objecting before Brenda’s voice fills the line. “Who is this?”

I stand, gripping the phone to my ear. I don’t know if I should say anything. Afraid of what Brenda might do to Cin, I keep quiet.

“Is it the slut you ran away with? I told you not to talk to her anymore. She’s a bad influence. Look what happened the last time.”

The sound of skin slapping skin crosses the line, and Cin grunts, followed by a crashing sound.

I lose it, screaming, “Cin! Don’t you dare touch her again, you hag! I’ll pay you back for every mark on her!”

Brenda, and possibly someone else, laughs as the phone disconnects.

My door flies open, and Patty runs into my room, scanning for danger, “What happened? Why are you yelling?”

“It’s Cin. I just talked to Cin, and Brenda caught her. We have to get her out of there. She’s in danger,” I beg, pressing redial, but all it does is give off busy signal.

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