Chapter 12

My life just kept getting better and better.

I was giving Mom the silent treatment, for real. I couldn’t believe she would hurt me like that, and not just me, but she’d hurt Tricia, too. I thought about calling my girlfriend, but she’d never given me her phone number. When I’d called Tricia the other day, I’d dialed the Hotties store at Westmore Mall where she worked, not her home. I looked in the phonebook, knowing her last name was Reynolds, but there were about a dozen listings and none of them were listed as T or Tricia, or even Patricia. Maybe she still lived with her parents, and I had no idea what their names might be, and maybe she didn’t even have a regular phone. Some people only have mobile phones.

Probably it would be better if I didn’t call her right away, I thought. Like maybe if I just gave her a few days to cool down, and then I got her some flowers or something, Tricia would listen and believe me when I told her the truth. I just hoped Mom wasn’t going to be filling her with lies about how she made out with me or sucked my cock, or ... Except we had done that stuff. My mom wouldn’t be lying about everything, just the fucking part, and who would believe that a teenage boy would ever say no to Stacy?

It seemed hopeless, but I was so depressed right then that I probably wanted it to be hopeless, you know? Everything just seemed to suck.

“Hey, Lonnie,” I said, sitting in my regular seat on the school bus.

She sat in her regular seat, too, which was the one just in front of mine, but she didn’t even look at me. I’d given the girl her first kiss just the day before, but now I was getting the silent treatment. That seemed fair and it was probably for the best anyway. I didn’t really want Lonnie, except maybe as a friend. I felt really lonely right then, and I realized that I’d actually been looking forward to the girl being her usual annoying self.

I looked out the window, trying to ignore everything around me, especially her, since Lonnie looked so much like my mom. Was that why I didn’t want to be her boyfriend? If she looked different, would I feel differently about her? I mean, what if she had auburn hair and hazel eyes and ... Now I was thinking about Tricia. Shoot.

Pushing that hurt away, I tried to think of all my friends. Like, I tried to count them in my head, but I didn’t have any. The guys at school I usually hung around with had either fucked my mom or probably would, eventually. After the kegger, I didn’t even want to look at them, let alone talk to those buttheads. All they did was constantly tell me how hot Stacy was and how she’d sucked their dicks and let them fuck her butt, and whatever. It made me mad, but I didn’t know if it was because I felt embarrassed for my mom, or because I wanted to do all that stuff to her myself.

The closest thing I had to a friend was my English teacher, Ms. Winters.

“Good morning, Matt.”

I looked to see Ms. Winters smiling at me and I tried to smile back, but it wasn’t a very good one. I still felt very happy to see her, of course, she made me feel warm again. We were standing by the water fountains, just outside my American history classroom. It was still morning, in between classes and there were a lot of kids in the hallway. It wasn’t unusual for a teacher to talk to a student, but I couldn’t hug her, which is what I wanted to do more than anything just then. I wanted her to hold me for some reason, not kiss or anything, but we had to stand there and pretend she was just my teacher.

“I was hoping to see you before school this morning,” she said in a low, slightly petulant voice. I’d disappointed her, too.

“I’m sorry,” I said, looking down at my shoes.

“What’s wrong?” Ms. Winters asked, immediately concerned, and her voice wasn’t soft anymore.

She sounded like my mom used to when I was little and some bigger kid would bully me. She sounded protective and I had to blink back tears. Why was I crying? What was wrong with me? My face burned with humiliation and I couldn’t lift my head. God, I must have looked like a four year old standing there and I was all too aware of everyone around us.

“Come with me,” she said, and her tone left no room for argument.

The school counselor’s office was nearby and for just a second I felt real panic. Bad enough that Ms. Winters saw me like this, but at least I trusted her. I didn’t know the counselor at all, except I was supposed to talk to her sometime about punching Jimmy in the face. I wasn’t looking forward to that conversation either, mostly because I didn’t feel like making up more lies just to keep my mom out of trouble.

“Rebecca? Are you busy?” Ms. Winters asked, kind of peering around the door in case the other woman was talking to someone. “Do you think I could borrow your office for ten or fifteen minutes?”

“Not at all,” Mrs. Somers replied. She caught me standing behind Ms. Winters. “I’ll just run to the office and check my mail.”

“Thanks.” My English teacher smiled and stood aside as the counselor left.

I think Mrs. Somers looked at me, and I’m sure she was curious, but I was busy staring at my shoes and she didn’t say anything.

The bell rang as we were sitting down on a small sofa. I was missing class, and probably Ms. Winters too, but she didn’t seem awfully worried about it. The counselor’s office wasn’t very large, but it was easily the most comfortable room in the school. It had wood paneling and carpeting, and pictures of New England in the fall. It was a warm, friendly room. Perfect for heart-to-heart chats and sharing secrets and maybe connecting with another human being.

Ms. Winters had locked the door, but even if she’d left it wide open I don’t think I could have stopped from throwing myself into her arms. I hugged her tightly and pressed my face against her breasts. She wore a navy blue sweater, the fuzzy kind, and it felt so good against my damp cheeks. I didn’t care what was underneath. I didn’t care about having sex or anything like that, and she didn’t either.

“What’s wrong, Matt?” Ms. Winters cradled me gently against her body and stroked my hair. “You can tell me. Whatever it is, I’ll help you. I promise.”

It took me a minute before I could say anything, although the urge to just blurt out the truth all at once was almost overwhelming.

“You have to promise that you won’t tell anyone,” I said. “No matter what. Not the principal or Mrs. Somers or ... or even the police.”

“The police?” Ms. Winters held my shoulders and pushed me back, just a little, just enough to see my face.

“It’s not that bad,” I sighed ... I hoped. “But you have to promise not to tell.”

It occurred to me that I could have made her promise. We’d had sex, a lot of sex, right here in school and at her house. If anyone found out about what we’d been doing ... But she’d never be my friend after that. She’d never trust me again and I wouldn’t be able to trust her. The idea of blackmailing Ms. Winters wasn’t something I ever seriously considered, not for a second, but the thought must have occurred to her as well.

“We have a lot of secrets, don’t we?” she said without smiling. “I promise, I won’t say a word to anyone without your permission.”

“Swear?”

“I swear.” She did smile then, and I felt like a stone had been lifted from my heart.

I took a deep breath and told Ms. Winters everything.

The bus lurched sharply around the corner of the school parking lot and onto the street, and so we all leaned left in our seats. I actually bumped my head against the window, but I barely noticed.

“Huh?”

“I said, what are you so happy about?” Lonnie asked, sounding kind of spiteful. Like I didn’t deserve to be happy since I’d made her feel so miserable.

“Oh, um...” I smiled at her. “I’m just happy, I guess.”

“Why? Did you fuck Ms. Winters again?”

“Lonnie!” I frowned, and glanced around us. “Don’t say stuff like that!”

“Why not? It’s true.” She shrugged.

“Look, I’m sorry about yesterday,” I told her. “I mean it. I don’t want to hurt your feelings or whatever.”

“Well, you kinda did.” Lonnie crossed her arms over her chest, but then the bus hit a pothole and she had to grab the back of the seat.

“Careful,” I said, grinning at her.

“Shut-up!” she replied, but she smiled too, just a little.

I couldn’t believe she was talking to me again! I don’t know why, but I felt an incredible sense of relief. Lonnie couldn’t stay mad at me and I hadn’t realized how much it had hurt that morning when she’d ignored me. If I’d felt good after talking to Ms. Winters, now I felt even better. Maybe, I thought, if Lonnie could forgive me, so could Tricia. Maybe there really was a light at the end of this stupid tunnel. I hoped so anyway, and decided I would call her as soon as I got home.

Lonnie had done what a real friend is supposed to and given me hope ... Even if it was sorta by accident. I watched her all the way home and she looked very pretty, especially when she would catch me and blush, and look away. I liked that a lot.

“Good afternoon! Hotties Westmore, can I help you?”

I frowned into the phone. “Mom?”

“No, this is Stacy,” she chided me. “What can I do for you today, sir?”

“Just let me talk to Tricia.”

“Oh! I’m sorry, Tricia is with a customer right now,” Mom said, and the sugar dripping off her tongue made me feel like throwing up. “Are you sure I can’t help you?”

“No, I’ll just wait for Tricia.”

“Well...” she lowered her voice. “We’re really not allowed to take personal phone calls. Maybe you can try calling her at home. Okay?”

“Mom!”

“Bye!” click ... She hung up on me!

I just stared at the phone. “Seriously?”