I paused and looked past her at her table. The girls there suddenly resembled starving dogs, hungry for my pornographic gossip. I had no doubt that the pack would turn on any one of them if it meant they could enjoy some erotic pleasure. Chastity was just the flavor of the day. Gazing around a little more, I didn’t see her. Had she done what I had done and gone to the nurse’s office to get herself excused from the rest of the school day? Unlike her, I didn’t realize any new pleasure from the thought. I was actually beginning to feel sorry for her, despite what she had done. But I always had felt sorry for her.
“I really don’t want to hear any more about her,” I said.
“Well, what about what more you promised to tell us? You said it was too disgusting to write about. So?”
“I didn’t promise,” I said, and continued eating my sandwich.
“You know you’re really as sick as she is,” she said, her face reddening.
I imagined she had assured them that I had promised to give them some more shocking information. She was like their star reporter.
“I know why you wrote that e-mail,” she continued, still practically on top of me. “You wanted to get back at her. You used me. Well, I did it, so now you owe me. I want to hear all about your sister, too, and I mean right now.”
She stamped her foot like a little girl throwing a tantrum. The ninth-grade girls at the table all stopped eating. They were mesmerized by the scene being played out before them. Other students at other tables were starting to look in our direction. Suddenly, I saw Chastity way in the rear, sitting with two girls who were about as popular as the measles. She was looking my way, too, probably terrified of what else I was going to reveal.
“Well?”
I folded up the remainder of my sandwich, put it back on the tray, and picked up the tray.
“Good,” she said, and turned victoriously toward her table and her friends.
When I rose, however, I turned in the opposite direction and walked toward the refuse slot in the cafeteria wall.
“Where are you going?” Carol Lee shouted after me.
I didn’t look back. I deposited my leftovers and my tray and walked out of the cafeteria. There was still a good fifteen minutes to the lunch hour, so I went outside. The day had turned gloomy, overcast. There was that familiar late-fall chill in the air now, the harbinger of winter. I hugged myself and walked slowly around the building.
I hate being here now, I told myself. I was strongly tempted by the urge just to walk away from the building and spend the rest of the day wandering about the city, but if I did that, Papa would definitely be told and what happened would be revealed. Mama would be so disappointed in me. It all made me feel trapped. How could my life be anything but miserable? And whose fault was that?
It’s your fault, Roxy, I whispered. You’re like a rock dropped in a pond causing ripples to go out wider and wider. You’re like a scream that echoes and echoes. I hadn’t seen her for nearly ten years, but I suddenly hated her anyway. I don’t know why I ever wanted to meet you. Papa was right to throw you out. I wish he had thrown you out before I was born so I wouldn’t have any memories of you at all.
Raging like this, even though it was only in my mind, seemed to bring me relief, but when I saw my reflection in a classroom window, I didn’t like what I saw. I saw someone full of venom and fury, someone made so ugly by her sick rage that she was almost unrecognizable. I despised Chastity and loathed the girls in my class. Once so attracted to and enamored of Evan, I was now furious with him. The sight of him, even the mere thought of him, was revolting. I felt as though I would never smile again, but I had no idea how or why that feeling would become even stronger. It was lying out there, waiting for me like some hungry tiger. It had been watching me for a long time, stalking me, anticipating its opportunity.
“Emmie,” I heard, and turned around to see Mrs. Morris coming out of the building. Did she think I was sick again? Was she going to call Mama to come get me? Had some of the students told her I hadn’t finished my lunch and had practically run out of the cafeteria?
“Yes, Mrs. Morris.”
“I want you to come inside, come to my office.”
“I’m all right, Mrs. Morris. I just wanted to get some air and—”
“I’m not concerned about your health right now, Emmie. Please do as I ask.”
“Why?”
She stood there looking at me. “Dr. Sevenson asked me to find you. Please do as I ask,” she said.
I followed her back into the building. She waited at the door and then started down the hallway without saying another word.
“What is this about?”
“Your mother called and asked that you meet me at my office. She’s on her way,” she told me.
“Why?”
“I think it’s better that your mother tell you,” she said.
It was as if my body knew the answer before the words entered my ears. I could feel my heart tighten like a hand into a fist and the icy cold rush through my veins. My legs weakened, and my lungs seemed to stop calling for air. Nevertheless, I kept up with Mrs. Morris. When we arrived at her office, she told me to sit on one of the beds and wait, and then, as if I did have a contagious disease, one that frightened even her, she hurried away. I sat there silently, my heart thumping.