Brooklyn reflected on the fact that she was minutes away from the start of her first sleepover in Michigan, and she had just finished cleaning her room when the doorbell rang. She ran downstairs to answer it, but Ben had already beaten her to it.
“Oh, it’s you,” Ben said, acting as if he didn’t know Blair was coming over. “You could at least try to hide the disappointment,” Blair said as she handed him her oversized duffle bag. He took the bag, wondering if it would be possible to spy on them during the night. He sensed that there might actually be some advantages of having a girl in the house.
Blair and Brooklyn hugged. “I brought sushi for dinner,” said Blair with a smile.
“I love sushi!” gasped Brooklyn.
“I’ll just put your stuff in B’s room,” said Ben.
The girls walked into the great room to set the sushi down. Brooklyn grabbed two bottles of water from the refrigerator in the kitchen and then they searched the channels on the television to find a good show while they ate their dinner. They watched a “Laguna Beach” rerun, and made comments about all the girls on the show: Josie’s hair was a terrible color, Emily was wearing too much make-up, Katie was going to need a crowbar to get out of those jeans.
“Is it really like this in California?” asked Blair.
“Maybe there,” Brooklyn answered. That was the most she felt she could answer. Mary and Greg returned from their drive to pick up Gabe from his snowboarding outing. They came into the great room and welcomed Blair with warm smiles and handshakes. This whole thing isn’t so bad, Brooklyn thought. Starting over could have some positive benefits.
“What are you eating?” Gabe asked as he sat down on the couch.
“Sushi,” answered Brooklyn. “Do you want to try some?”
“No, thanks.” He tried not to look disgusted. He thought for a second and then called out, “Mom, can I order a pizza?”
“Yes, but only if you promise to leave the girls alone tonight.”
Gabe mumbled something under his breath which Brooklyn could not understand. She assumed that it was at best a half-hearted promise that he would stay clear of Blair and Brooklyn the entire evening.
When the show ended and they had their fill of sushi, the girls went upstairs to change into their swimsuits so they could go soak in the hot tub. Ben was in his favorite position on the leather couch playing a video game. When the girls walked through, he didn’t break his gaze from the television, but, as soon as they closed the door behind themselves, he tried to peer over the couch without being too obvious. It was the first time that he had seen Brooklyn in a bikini and realized just how attractive she was. Then he ducked down on the couch, embarrassed, and covered his head with a pillow, knowing that having girls around wasn’t going to be easy.
The temperature of the water in the hot tub was 103 degrees. The girls both piled their long hair on top of their heads before settling into spots in front of the jets.
“Now that we’re alone,” started Blair, “tell me honestly what you think about school.”
“It’s fine.”
“It’s fine? Okay, what about the boys?”
Brooklyn let out a nervous laugh. “They’re fine.”
“You stink at this! I don’t have any girls at our school that I can trust except Mackenzie and Ashley. I have no classes or lunch with either of them.”
“Really?” Brooklyn asked, surprised that a girl like Blair did not have more friends at school. “Okay, I’ll try to give you more detailed answers.”
Blair splashed water toward Brooklyn. “So, the truth . . . I used to be friends with Sara, you know.”
“Really? But it was a long time ago?”
“Uh-huh. We met in kindergarten and were inseparable until the beginning of fifth grade. There were three of us: me, her, and Kaylie.”
“What happened?” asked Brooklyn, more curious now than ever.
“Um . . . my mom and Sara’s dad . . . that’s what happened. They started dating.”
“No kidding?”
Blair rolled her eyes. “Yup. Don’t get me wrong—at first Sara loved it. She, like, used to say that we would be sisters forever. They took us out to dinner and to the movies, and we did everything together, as a family.”
“What changed?” inquired Brooklyn.
“I’m not really sure. My mom and I think that maybe her dad was going to propose to my mom and he told Sara. We were in sixth grade then, at a new school, and she just all of a sudden completely turned on me. Her dad broke up with my mom.”
“She never told you why?”
“One day we were friends and the next day she was ignoring me. She told people that I was using her for her popularity, and my mom was using her dad for his money. She called me all sorts of names in front of people and spread a lot of lies about me. She completely cut me out, and Kaylie helped her. Stephanie practically replaced me the same day. I was out and she was in. Sara really hurt me, and it seems like I’m still her target most days, unless of course she has someone else to pick on. But I stand up to her now. I just kind of do my own thing.”
“I’m sorry. Does Ben know all of this?”
“Yeah,” replied Blair. “Everyone knows. But it happened three years ago, and about what she does now . . . he doesn’t say much. A little here or there, but I think he tries to stay out of it so she doesn’t turn on him. I get that.”
“How could someone do that? That’s so mean.”
“The thing is, my dad left me and my mom when I was five. He decided that he had made a mistake and didn’t want a wife or a family anymore, so he went back to being a business tycoon and sleeping with as many women as possible.” Brooklyn could hardly hide her shock. “But twice a month he sent my mom a check to make sure we were taken care of. Maybe we didn’t have the biggest house, but it was just the two of us. I’ve never been deprived of anything, other than a father. So, it’s ridiculous for her to say that my mom was after her dad’s money. There’s absolutely no truth to that.”
“I’m completely stunned,” Brooklyn said.
“Imagine how I felt,” Blair said, rolling her eyes.
“Was she mad when you started going out with Jordan because he hates her so much?”
“I’m sure, but what was she going to say? She tried to talk to Jordan in the beginning of the year while we were together, but he kind of blew her off. She said things like he would be so lucky to be with her because she could have anyone she wanted, even someone in college.”
“You must hate her so much,” Brooklyn said.
“Sometimes I do. But hating her is a waste of time. I just think she’s a terrible person. I wish I didn’t ever have to see her. Ever.”
After soaking in the hot tub, the girls went upstairs to Brooklyn’s room where they showered and changed into their pajamas. They played on the Internet for a while, looking up people’s Facebook profiles. Brooklyn felt uncomfortable while they were navigating through the Facebook profiles because she did not want to blurt out something that was part of her previous life. After a short time, they began to get bored with the Internet and crawled into Brooklyn’s bed to watch movies. Their energy level was still high during the first movie so they had no trouble staying awake. But by the middle of the second movie, the girls had fallen fast asleep, and Brooklyn’s mind once again wandered back to a place that she didn’t wish to remember.
Amber sat in the closet holding her mouth, tears streaming down her face. Her mother was screaming. There was a man yelling. Then the two men were yelling. They were looking for something. Her dad was pleading with the men. What could they possibly want? Where was the phone? Amber remembered that her mom had walked out of the room with it. What about Nick’s cell phone? Get up, Amber, get up, she told herself. There was more yelling, more pleading, more screaming. And then there were five gunshots. Amber’s body began seizing uncontrollably from the immense fear she felt. S
he was immobile, paralyzed from the shock of what was going on in the room below her.
Minutes went by—they felt like hours—without another sound, and Amber was surrounded with an eerie silence. Amber wanted to run from the closet to check on her family. But there was a force inside her, an intuition, that was holding her back, telling her to stay put, for she had no way of knowing what danger could be waiting for her. Her mother, her father, Nick . . . The tears flowed down her cheeks. She felt alone, trapped, and heavy, barely able to think, unable to breathe in the stuffy closet air. She was trying to process what could have possibly happened downstairs when she heard footsteps. They’re coming, she thought. My family is coming to get me. There were more footsteps. They were closer now…
“Check in there,” a voice said that didn’t belong to her mother, father, or brother.
There was more silence and then Nick’s closet door opened. Amber ducked. The hangers were moving. Clothes were being torn down. The plastic shelving bin moved. She told herself to stay still, but she couldn’t have moved even if she wanted to. The shock kept her immobile. Something touched her, something poked her. She looked up slowly as a tear trickled down her cheek. Someone was there . . . staring down at her! He has a gun! Run, Amber, run!
Brooklyn woke up screaming hysterically. She was already sitting up in bed with her knees pulled up to her chest while she clutched her bear and rocked back and forth. A panicked Blair woke up and turned on the light.
“Brooklyn? It’s okay . . . um . . . you’re having a bad dream,” she said, putting her arm around her. Brooklyn was unable to hear what Blair was saying. She was still trapped in her own mind, reliving the scary moments from that terrible night, in the dark, in the closet, still rocking.
“He found me. He found me,” she screamed. “Somebody help me!”
Blair jumped up, unsure of what to do. She ran into the bathroom and brought back out a washcloth that she had soaked in cold water. Just then Mary came running into the room.
“He’s here! He’s going to kill me!”
“Blair, honey, can you get me a bottle of water? Down the hall in the spare bedroom, there’s a mini-fridge. It is right across from the boys’ rooms.” Blair handed Mary the washcloth and ran into the hall. I don’t know where the boys’ rooms are, Blair thought to herself, turning on every light switch she could find on her way. At the end of the hall there was a set of French doors. Blair opened one of the doors and the light from the hallway revealed a big room with a couch and television. This must be it. Blair turned on the light and found the mini-fridge. It was stocked with bottles of water. She grabbed one and ran back to Brooklyn’s room, trying to turn off all the lights she had turned on.
When she walked back into the bedroom, Mary was holding Brooklyn while she sobbed. “It’s okay. I’m here. Blair’s here. Nobody else is here,” Mary said quietly. Blair walked over slowly and handed the bottle to Mary.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Blair went over to the armchair and sat down. She pulled a blanket over her shoulders and watched intently as Mary made progress in calming Brooklyn down. The tears and the sobbing finally stopped. Mary got up and went into the bathroom. Blair couldn’t see what she was doing, but she heard the medicine cabinet and a pill bottle open. Mary came back and handed Brooklyn some pills and the bottle of water. Brooklyn was lying down, still clenching her bear. Mary kissed her on her forehead and motioned for Blair to come back to bed. She went over and climbed back into Brooklyn’s bed. Mary tucked her in and kissed her on the forehead as well.
“Thank you for being here, Blair,” Mary whispered.
“I didn’t know what to do. I was scared,” she whispered.
“Sometimes she has nightmares. But she should sleep through the rest of the night.” Mary turned off the light and closed the door behind her. Blair turned over to look at Brooklyn but Brooklyn had her back to Blair, and it looked like she had already fallen back to sleep. Blair wondered if she was having a random nightmare or if there was more to the story. Who had been trying to kill her friend? Who was Brooklyn so afraid of?
The next morning, everyone was quiet about what had happened the night before. Mary made waffles and the girls indulged with whipped cream and strawberries. After breakfast, they drove Blair home and then headed to the store to do some grocery shopping.
“Do you have any holiday traditions?” Mary asked. “Is there anything you want to eat or do for your first Christmas with us?”
“I haven’t really thought about it,” Brooklyn replied. “I mean, I guess it’s a little weird. Christmas used to be my favorite time of year. I see all the decorations and stuff, and everyone’s always talking about it, but it feels strange to me. If you don’t mind, I just maybe want to lie low and not really get into it this year.”
“Of course, honey,” Mary said putting her arm around Brooklyn’s shoulder. “We want to do whatever makes you feel comfortable. I know it’s going to be tough for you this Christmas.”
Brooklyn smiled as best as she could. She wasn’t looking forward to it at all. She couldn’t believe that she actually wanted to talk to Dr. Spencer about how much she was dreading what used to be her favorite holiday. She realized that he was the only person that she felt comfortable talking to. She sensed that there was somehow a contradiction about what she was feeling: she was looking forward to having a conversation with someone she barely knew about dealing with her favorite time of year, which she now wished she could just blink away. Perhaps she really needed the sessions with Dr. Spencer as the outlet for all of her emotions, which could not be shared with anyone else.
CHAPTER 17