Page 64 of Pages of Amber

Amber slapped her hand away, pushing into Beverly’s space. They stood toe to toe now, flanked by stunned and gaping students.

“Don’t you dare talk about my mother that way.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did I hurt the slave’s feelings by calling out her dictator?” she sneered.

“Beverly, you–”

“I didn’t tell your mother anything. I’d rather take a trip to hell than be in the same room as her. You know that, but you won’t admit it because she has you brainwashed. And in case you’ve forgotten, I’m not the only best friend you have. I’m just the one you forgot about until you needed someone to push blame on.” Her eyes narrowed, spitting fire that seemed to rival Amber’s as she said, “The only one you need to blame is yourself for bending backwards to please a mother who won’t even look twice at you.”

The silence following her words blanketed the hallway. This wasn’t a simple argument between friends. This wasn’t a fight where they wanted to physically hurt each other as much as possible.

These were two friends – best friends – who had held onto each other for years, their grip slipping and sliding until they had finally breached the storm that had torn them apart.

She spun on her heels, pacing furiously from one end of the room to another. Her hands moved restlessly, raking through her hair, brushing down her face.

The walls were closing in.

It was hard to breathe.

Underneath her skin, the anger from the day hadn’t left. In fact, it continued to buzz a steady itch that almost drove her crazy. She flexed her fingers, the crack of bone filling the room. She wanted to shout. She wanted to yell at herself, at Beverly, at her own mom. Amber could count on a single hand the amount of times she had been angry. None of them compared to this burning feeling. She had never been so angry that she saw red. She had never been so angry as to yell at her friends, but that was exactly what she had done. She had let herself get swept up and accused someone without first asking and trying to understand what had happened.

She scratched at her knuckles, her feet taking a path through the worn rug. She was sure she could feel the hardwood beneath her feet from her brutal pacing. Her head spun as she moved, the jagged pieces of the day making their rounds in her mind. Every bit made her angrier the more she thought back.

Had Beverly been truthful? Amber begrudgingly admitted the fact that Beverly couldn’t stand Amber’s mom. Not after the way her mom always treated her friends. She’d never particularly liked them and while her mother was a cold woman on some days, she was colder to them whenever they came around.

Her hands moved again, punching useless movements into the air. Who had told on her to her mother, and why?

Footsteps sounded at the door. Amber didn’t lift her head. It wouldn’t be her mother. She hadn’t neared Amber’s room in years.

“Dinner started ten minutes ago,” Dottie said, her voice quiet.

“Not hungry.”

“It’s your favorite.”

“Don’t want it.”

Not if it came with the low-carb ingredients her mom forced Dottie to use that took Amber’s pleasure and appetite to enjoy the meal. Dottie’s gaze followed Amber for a minute as she made her way round the room. She’d watched Amber closely since she’d walked into the house with a slam of the front door followed by the slam of her bedroom door when she came upstairs. Amber bit her lips to keep the scathing words in. She needed at least one person in her corner after the wreckage of the day. Dottie had always been in her corner. She needed to remember that.

The thought quelled her anger enough for her to think with a clear head. She looked over at the elderly woman who had taken care of her more than her own mother. Her voice softened. “Thank you but I’m not hungry, Dottie.”

She wasn’t hungry for food, but solitude. For once, she wanted to slip into the loneliness, embrace the quiet that had haunted her all her life. She paused her steps after Dottie left, her hands squeezing around herself in an attempt to keep everything in. Her anger, her hurt, her aches.

Tomorrow, she would be herself again.

Tomorrow, her sunshine would rise back with the sun.

Tomorrow, she would put on her mask and face everyone.

But today, she wanted nothing more than to be left alone.

CHAPTER TWENTY

“HEY, AMBER.”

The greeting was delivered with caution. Amber steeled herself and twisted to face Evelyn and Emmett. “Hi, guys. How’re you? Sleep well?”

They stared at her like she didn’t have her head on straight. She looked back to her locker when they didn’t say anything.

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