Julia's Daughters

48 days, 13 hours

I hear my cell phone vibrating on my nightstand. It’s the second or third time it’s gone off. I groan and roll over and pick it up. WTF? I look at the screen. It’s Marissa. My best friend. Well, my best friend now. Since the other one is in the cemetery in a jar. I slide the thingy on the screen. “Hey,” I say, flopping back on my pillow.

“Hey. I’ve been calling you. Why didn’t you pick up?”

I close my eyes. “I thought you were supposed to go shopping with your grandmother or something today.”

“I am,” she says. “I’m in the dressing room at Forever 21. She said she’ll buy me whatever I want. I’ve got a whole pile of stuff. You should come here.”

I squeeze my eyes shut and open them again. My curtains are closed on my window, but there’s light around the edges. I feel hung over even though I didn’t drink that much last night. “I probably can’t. I’m in deep shit.”

“Get caught sneaking out? I told you it wasn’t a good idea. Do you think I can wear yellow? I think it makes my skin look yellow.”

I tuck my phone between my shoulder and my ear and rub the little bumps on my forearm under my T-shirt. I can feel the need bubbling up. I try to ignore it. “Don’t buy anything yellow.”

“But I like yellow,” Marissa whines.

“You look shitty in yellow. Everybody does.” I exhale, remembering the nightmare of a night. “I had to call my mom last night to come get me at Dodge’s.”

“You’re kidding. Holy shiite.”

I close my eyes and wince. One of the bumps on my forearm really hurts. I should probably put Neosporin on it. “He wanted me to do something I didn’t want to do.”

“Like kinky sex stuff?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“I can’t believe you called your mom to come get you. Did she even know about Dodge?”

“She knows now.” I rub the bump that hurts. “I didn’t know who else to call. Your car’s in the shop and you’re not allowed to drive your mom’s. Cassie wouldn’t answer her phone. I got scared.”

“You? You never get scared.” Marissa groaned. “God, I have got to stop eating. My butt is getting bigger by the day. Do they have this in a six?” she hollers to someone. Probably her grandmother. She talks to her grandmother that way. Like they’re friends. I don’t have a friend kind of grandmother. My mom’s mom is dead and my dad’s mom . . . I can’t stand that bitch. She’s so judgmental, such a hypocrite. I don’t even feel bad about stealing her drugs.

“What’d your mom say when she picked you up last night?” Marissa asks. She’s grunting and groaning, trying to fit her size six butt into a pair of size four jeans, probably.

“She came inside Dodge’s house,” I say.

“I locked myself in the bathroom after he hit me. She walked right in the house.”

“Holy crap.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “These people were smoking crack right on the couch.”

“You’re in sooo much trouble, Haley.”

I sigh and rub harder. My shirt is wet under my fingertips. Blood. “I doubt it. Mom’s afraid to say anything to me. She’s afraid I’ll go stark raving mad or something. And you know how Dad is. He checked out months ago.”

“Because of Caitlin?”

“I guess. I don’t know. It’s been worse since then for sure. He’s not really into being a dad or a husband. He’s already got his mommy and his brothers and his business.”

“But you said you heard him telling your mom they should send you away to boarding school. You think he will?”

“I doubt it.” I press my lips together. My arm’s really starting to bleed. I can smell the blood now. It smells like Caitlin’s blood that night. It’s weird, but the blood makes me feel better. “Whatever,” I add.

“I don’t think your mom will send you away. I don’t think Julia’s got it in her. You’re still her daughter, no matter what you did.”

“Yeah, but she’s still got another one. Izzy’s smart and she always does the right thing.”

“I got news for you; your little sister is weird. All those weird facts she’s always telling us. And getting under her bed all the time. Certifiable.”

I smile. “She is, isn’t she? A little weirdo.”

“Almost done,” Marissa says loudly. “I gotta go. G-mom’s hungry. Low blood sugar. You sure you don’t want to come to the mall? We’re going to Chipotle for lunch.”

“I better stay here,” I say, slowly pushing up my sleeve. I feel like I’m stretched tight like a rubber band, like something bad’s going to happen if I don’t relieve the tension. Something really bad. I open the drawer in my nightstand and dig around. “Just in case Mom wants to come in here and lose her shit on me.”