chapter 34

“Today? Are you sure about this? Did you check with anyone?”

“Yes, I asked my mom to call the hospital for us. He’s allowed visitors. Some other kids from school have already gone.”

“I don’t know about this. I barely know him. Lots of other girls know him a lot better. We could find someone else to give him Grace’s message. Or maybe you could talk her into calling him herself.”

“She’s too messed up right now. She asked you to do it. I guess it’s because you were in the car with them and that makes her feel close to you. I really think you have to do this for her.”

“I really don’t know why I have to do anything for her. I don’t owe her anything. I didn’t put her in the car or in that bed. None of this is my fault.”

“I didn’t say it was or even think it was! Of course it isn’t your fault. It’s no one’s fault. It was just an accident.”

“That’s not totally true, though, is it?” Rhiannon looks at me. I don’t really want to talk about this, but she’s pushing me. “Everyone is feeling so sorry for poor Tom. He’s all messed up and in a wheelchair, and he might never get out of it. I understand that and I agree it’s not good. I guess I wish things were different for him.”

“You guess you wish it?”

“It wasn’t really an accident, was it? I mean, it was an accident because I don’t think anyone wanted the train to hit us, but it was someone’s fault. I don’t know why everyone’s acting like it wasn’t just because Tom got hurt. If he was OK, everyone would be blaming him like he deserves.”

“That doesn’t seem fair with him still sitting in the hospital.”

“That’s my point. Poor Tom sitting in the hospital. But he’s the one who drank at the party, and he’s the one who decided to play chicken with a train. Poor Tom should have used his brain, and he wouldn’t be in this mess. Grace wouldn’t be hiding in her bedroom with that pathetic excuse for a mother getting on her case. The other guys wouldn’t have been all banged up.” I stop for breath. Too many words.

“What about you?”

“What about me? I’m the only one who didn’t get hurt. Nothing happened to me.”

“You got a concussion and all those bruises. It was really scary when we heard about it. We heard the crash, you know. Everyone in town heard it. It was the loudest sound I think I ever heard. The train kept on blowing its horn over and over, and then there was this huge screeching noise and a giant bang and then…”

“I know! I was there, remember?” I put my hand up to block her words. I don’t want to think about it. The sounds from that night seem to be carved right into my brain. Every time I hear the train coming through town, I feel like I have to hide so it doesn’t come after me. I want to put my fingers in my ears to block out the sounds, but I know it won’t work because most of what I hear is coming from the inside out.

I don’t know why it’s bothering me so much. I mean, I wasn’t hurt like everyone else. I was just banged around a bit. It serves me right for what I did. It was my fault for lying to Ms. K and getting in that car in the first place. I could tell it was a death trap the first time I saw it. I knew Tom was a player the first time I saw him. You can’t trust players.

“Sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I know it must bother you.”

“I just wish I could forget about it. But I can’t. It’s in my face all the time with everyone talking about poor Tom and poor Grace.” That sounds awful even to me.

“I just wish it hadn’t happened to any of you. It’s all so terrible. I agree with you that Tom was stupid. Incredibly stupid. And I know you always hear these stories about the horrible things that can happen if you drink and drive, but you still don’t really want it to happen to someone you know. He didn’t deserve this to happen, even if it was his fault. He’s still poor Tom even if he was stupid.” Rhiannon’s voice reminds me of her mother’s.

“He was stupid. He almost killed all of us. I’m not sure if I want to go and see him. I think I’m too mad at him to be nice and supportive. You go and give him Grace’s message, OK?”

I walk away without waiting for her answer. It’s too much to ask. I can’t go and look at him and try to feel sympathy for him. I know he’ll look sad and pathetic. I can’t in a million years imagine what it would be like to think that you might never walk again. Trapped in a wheelchair for the rest of your life. I don’t have anything to say to someone in that terrible a place.

I don’t want to walk into the hospital room and look at him sitting in his personal hell and only feel pissed that he hurt Grace and Tony and Jeremy.

And me.

He did hurt me. Not as badly as the others, but he still could have killed me. Not that my life is worth much, but it’s still mine. Even if he didn’t kill me, he still could have screwed up my life and sent me flying into another group home. It wasn’t his to screw up. I can screw my own life up without any help.

Which I have probably done again by coming home by myself instead of going to the hospital. Coming home. That’s what Rhiannon says every day. “Are you ready to come home?” Except she didn’t say it today because she went in the opposite direction after school and will probably decide I’m such a selfish idiot that she’ll never talk to me again. Which would normally be a good thing, but I’m actually getting kind of used to her nonstop sunshine-and-roses routine, and I’m wondering if I would almost kind of maybe miss it if she decided to clam up.

“And I think Rhiannon’s mad at me for not going, but I just can’t do it right now.” I’m not sure when I developed such a big mouth. Rhiannon’s mad at me, and now I’m telling her mother about it, which will probably make her mad at me, too. Life was a lot easier when I just kept it closed and hid below the surface where no one noticed me.

“I don’t blame you for not feeling ready to do that. You’ve been through a lot that Rhiannon likely can’t really understand.”

Ms. K wipes the snotty nose of one of the superbrats and sends her back out to play. We’re standing at the window of the kitchen, watching all the little kids try to murder each other in the back yard. I’m not sure how I started spilling my guts to her. I just came back from school on my own and when she asked me where Rhiannon was, I lost control of my mouth and it started pouring out all my thoughts like a broken faucet stuck on full power.

“You’re taking my side?” Rhiannon’s the biokid. Pseudomoms always take the biokid’s side.

“There are no sides here, Sadie. Rhiannon likes to take care of people. I don’t know if that’s from growing up in this crazy household where she’s had to get used to so many different children, or if it’s just her personality. Either way, it’s who she is. She was just trying to help Tom and Grace and probably you, too. Her good intentions sometimes get ahead of her thinking things through.” She’s not exactly dissing Rhiannon, but it still kind of sounds like she’s on my side. If there were sides, that is.

“Alisha called her a collector.” Why’d I tell her that? That’s history and has nothing to do with right now. Maybe I should sew my mouth shut. If I knew how to sew.

“A collector? Of what?”

“Fosterkids. She told me that Rhiannon was only my friend because she felt sorry for me because I’m a fostergirl.” I’m still talking. Wonder where she keeps the needles and thread. I heard a rumor I’m good at problem solving. I should be able to figure out how to stitch my lips together.

“Do you believe that?” She glances at me for a second, then goes back to looking out the window. Two of the rugrats seem to be trying to rip each other’s faces off. Ms. K just watches until they break it up, but she looks poised to run out and save the day just in case someone removes a body part. It ends fast and they run off to play in the sandbox. Both of them seem to still have their own eyes and noses, so I guess they don’t need a rescue operation.

“Not really. I did for a while. It’s like you said, she likes to take care of people. I thought I was one of those people and that was the only reason she was hanging around with me.” I shrug my shoulders so that she knows I don’t really care. She doesn’t notice.

“She probably did want to take care of you, especially at first. She likes to take care of me, too. And everyone else in this house. She used to take care of Alisha when she was here, even though Alisha is older than she is. Alisha doesn’t remember that part, I guess. She just remembers being hurt and angry when she wanted to come back and the timing made it impossible. Rhiannon wanting to take care of you doesn’t make her less of a friend, you know. It’s actually the other way around.”

“I guess I’m kind of starting to get that.” What I’m really starting to get is that being friends with Rhiannon doesn’t seem to be a choice any more. She’s like a bad habit that I can’t seem to break, even when I try.

Except that maybe I finally managed to break it today. She looked pretty disappointed when she left me at lunchtime, and all I saw of her after school was her back walking away from me.

“I wouldn’t worry too much about her being upset with you. She isn’t much of a grudge keeper. She has a strong sense of loyalty to people she cares about.” I’ve noticed that. I’ve also noticed that Rhiannon is strong in lots of ways that I didn’t notice at first. I think I might have a disability in people skills along with reading and writing.

“What about the Tom stuff?” I hate that I feel guilty that I didn’t go with her. I never used to feel guilty about anything. I did what I wanted to do without worrying about what anyone else thought. Now I have to think about other people’s feelings when I can’t even find my own.

“You will figure that one out when you’re ready. It’s a pretty confusing situation, and I think you’re entitled to some time to decide how you feel about it and about him. Rhiannon will give him the message. She’ll probably give him all kinds of messages.” She smiles.

“Yeah, she never runs out of things to say.” I smile too, my muscles creaking a little as they try to move my face up. Rhiannon does that to people. She makes you smile even when she isn’t there and even when you don’t think you have anything to smile about. I’m pretty sure I’ve always had the exact opposite effect on people.

“I’m glad you’re starting to find a few things to say.”

“Yeah, well, it feels a little weird. I’m not much for talking about myself.”

“I’ve noticed. You can talk to me whenever you want. And you don’t have to talk when you don’t want. At least to me. Rhiannon is a different story.”

“She’s a really long story. If she was a book, I’d never finish reading her.”

Ms. K laughs. “You have a way with words, Sadie.”

“No one has ever said that to me before.”

“You’re a smart kid. Don’t shake your head. I know it’s uncomfortable for you to listen to positive things about yourself. But you might have to get a little used to it. You have people who believe you have lots going on inside that somewhat stubborn head of yours. I even have it in writing.”

She opens a drawer and takes out Pencilneck’s report. If I had known where she was hiding it, I’d have used it to start a nice little bonfire in the backyard.

“You still want me to look at that with you.”

“I would have put it the other way around. It’s your report to read. If you want me to look at it with you, just let me know.” She puts it down on the counter. She’s still looking out the window. Everyone looks calm out there. They seem to be having a tea party without any cups. I’m pretty sure I saw Marie feed Hillary a cookie made out of wet sand, which she seems to be eating. Don’t know if Ms. K noticed. I should probably say something, but I’m thinking that maybe if they fill up on sand, no one will be eating off my plate tonight but me.

“I might want you to do that. Maybe help me figure out some of Pencilneck’s mumbo jumbo.”

Since I can’t burn it, I might as well try to understand it. It is all about me after all. The story of my life, by Sadie Thompson. And Pencilneck. An action-packed adventure filled with boring information about how super-smart Sadie does and doesn’t learn. Should be a bestseller. I just hope there isn’t a sequel. No one needs to know any more about me than they already do.

“Just let me know when you’re ready. Right now, though, I think maybe you should go out and join the party.” The kids are yelling, sounding all excited, and I look out to see who’s getting beat up this time. I look at Ms. K, who smiles her smile at me.

“Thanks, Ms. K.”

I head outside. Rhiannon is sitting in the sandbox, an excited little kid on each knee. All three of them are chattering at three hundred miles an hour and drinking imaginary tea. I just stand there for a couple of minutes watching and wondering what she’s going to say when she sees me.

I take a deep breath and tell myself to stop being such a wuss. Can’t believe I’m scared of three little kids covered in sand. I go over to the box and sit down on a tiny triangle seat that digs into my butt and is probably going to give me slivers in unpleasant places. Hillary takes one look at me and plops herself down on my lap, grinning at me like a demented troll with gritty brown teeth and mud drooling down her chin. I’m not sure what to do with her so I just sit really still, hoping she doesn’t try to kiss me with her grimy mouth or something gross like that.

Rhiannon looks at me. She doesn’t say anything about Tom or about me not coming with her. She doesn’t say anything at all. She just hands me a cup made out of air filled with tea made out of her imagination. Cuddling a bit with Marie, she grins at me and raises her own cup into the air.

“Welcome to the party, Sadie.”

I don’t think I’ve ever had imaginary tea before. At least not that I remember. Sometimes I wish I could remember more. Maybe if I try talking to Ms. K about my life a little bit sometime it would help me plug up some of the holes in my brain.

But not today. Today I’m going to drink imaginary tea with three grubby fostergirls and decide that it’s the first time. Maybe I’ll make some new memories. I won’t have to worry about remembering them because I can count on Rhiannon to remind me. Over and over and over and over and…

“To fostergirls.”

I raise my cup to the sky and take my first drink.

It tastes exactly like sunshine and roses.

Which is not nearly as gross as I expected it to be.

Maybe tomorrow I’ll take one of the superbrats’ shovels and try a little digging.