When the cab pulled up in front of my house, I saw Mickey getting ready to leave on his Vespa. I opened the door to wave to him, but before I could get his attention, he gunned the engine and took off down the street. He certainly was in a hurry to get away from whatever was going on in my house. I took a deep breath, paid the driver, and went inside.
I knew it was going to be bad, but nothing could have prepared me for what I saw. Couch cushions lay scattered around the floor, some with holes ripped in them, like leftovers from a particular angry pillow fight, and someone had ground rice crisps into the carpet with the sole of her shoe. Noodles had apparently forgotten whatever housebreaking he’d learned in his last home, because he’d made messes all over the place. Designer dresses lay on the furniture, like crumpled ghost-sheets, and empty soda bottles, wine bottles, and prescription pill bottles for SBB’s various medications were all over the floor, lying on their sides. And that was just the living room! I didn’t want to imagine what I might find upstairs. Never, not even after one of Patch’s crazy parties, had I seen the place in such terrible shape.
I didn’t know what to do. My first thought was to call my parents and confess everything: “Hey, I know I was supposed to be starting high school and concentrating on my homework, but guess what? I invited three of my friends to move in with us, and they trashed everything!” But something stopped me: maybe the possibility (unlikely) that my folks would freak out, hurry home, and kick my butt—or maybe the possibility (more likely) that they’d be mad but say it was my responsibility and leave me to fix it on my own anyway. So I kept my cell phone in my pocket. Instead I pulled off my shoes and yelled, “Philippa? Liesel? Sara-Beth? You guys around here anywhere?”
They appeared, all together, at the top of the stairs. They didn’t look happy, but at least they weren’t yelling or clawing one another’s eyes out, so I took that to be a good sign.
“What happened?” I asked, gesturing at the huge mess. “It looks like a mosh pit or something in here. This isn’t cool, you guys, seriously. I’m sorry I left you all alone, but I’ve had a really hard night.”
But none of them said anything. They all just stared at me, and I started to realize why they weren’t fighting anymore. They were united now. Against me.
“Listen,” I went on, “I’m really sorry I ditched you guys to go to that party. Believe me, I wish I’d just stayed home. I had an awful time. From now on, I promise I won’t go off and not invite you guys. It was mean and stupid and wrong of me. Okay? I’m really sorry. Beyond sorry. What else do you want me to say?”
Philippa held up my chemistry notebook. “Maybe you could explain this.”
For a second, I didn’t know what she was talking about. Then I realized she had it open to the page where Judith, Meredith, and I had been scribbling notes to one another during the school assembly. And right in the middle of the page was the picture Judith had drawn of stick-figure SBB stripping.
“How could you say those things about me, Flan?” wept Sara-Beth. “I thought you were my friend.”
“It’s one thing to … double-book us, Flan,” said Liesel, “but it’s another to turn against someone who trusts you.”
“But wait, I didn’t write those things. Judith—”
“Sure, blame it all on somebody else,” scoffed Philippa. “That’s so mature.”
“But I really didn’t—”
“I know when I’m not wanted.” Sara-Beth wiped her eyes. “Tonight you can rest easy knowing you’ll never see me again. I don’t care if I am homeless—I’m not going to spend one more hour in this horrible, horrible house!”
“Sara-Beth, wait!” But before I could get my shoes back on, she was running down the stairs, past me, out the front door, and out into the street. I chased her out onto the sidewalk, but she was already disappearing into a cab. “Wait!” I yelled. But she didn’t so much as say good-bye.
Now I felt really sick. I went back inside the house. Liesel and Philippa were sitting on the couch now, their arms crossed, their faces as stony as a pair of judges’. I didn’t look at them as I ran up the stairs to my bedroom, shut the door, and locked it.
As soon as I crashed down onto my bed, Noodles came out from under it. He hopped up next to me and started licking my face. But, as cute as he was, even he made me sad, because he reminded me of Liesel and Sara-Beth and how much fun we’d had hanging out at Cube the night I got him. I hugged the little doggy to my chest and started to cry. Everyone hated me: my friends from home, my friends from school, the guy I liked—everybody. I’d humiliated Bennett in his own house, made Judith and Meredith not trust me—and worst of all, SBB thought I’d basically called her an anorexic prostitute. It was awful and ugly and stupid, and I wanted to die.
After several hours of crying and hating myself, I finally fell asleep. All night long I had a series of terrifying dreams, filled with people yelling at me and sentencing me to jail. But when I woke up the next morning, the voices I heard in real life were even more terrifying. They belonged to my parents, and they were coming from downstairs.