examples, such as a cozy blanket, hot chocolate, scented candles, relaxing music. Oh goody. All I need is for Mommy to hang it on the fridge.
Amy raps again. “C’mon already. I don’t feel good,” she says in a low voice.
Kristal flings open the door and Amy barrels in. In the fluorescent light, the blue shadows under her eyes make the rest of her face a pale, greenish hue. She clutches her lower belly.
“Uh…would you mind giving me some privacy?” Amy asks, not quite making eye contact with us. She looks longingly at an open stall. “I’m sorry. It must be something I ate.”
These three sentences are the most Amy has ever spoken to me. And the sole thing she’s ever said to Kristal was how disruptive Kristal’s late arrival was that one time. Since then, she only talks with Sandy, the boys, or her Immaculate Conception sidekick, Alexis.
“Oh jeez, sure!” Kristal says, moving toward the door. “Can we get you anything? Water?”
Amy shakes her head and gives a forced smile. “Don’t tell Alexis. Or anyone. It’s embarrassing.” She moves quickly into the stall, slamming the door behind her.
As I follow Kristal out, there’s an incredibly long, loud wet-sounding eruption from Amy’s stall.
I start to smirk, but then Kristal says, “That’s why I never use a public bathroom. No dignity.” Instantly, I’m brought back to yesterday’s session with Dr. McCallum and Grandma, and I get an image of me rambling in the chair at Rodrick’s salon about wanting to look like Audrey Hepburn for my fantasy trip to Italy. The happy buzz from Kristal wanting my number ebbs until Kristal whispers, “I actually shit in my pants in my mother’s car. She was furious. We were at the mall and I had to go but wouldn’t use the bathroom there. On the drive home, I just couldn’t hold it in any longer.”
We both begin to crack up outside Room Three.
“The car reeked for weeks. Oh my God, Cat,” Kristal says softly, laughing and holding her stomach. “It was horrible.”
“When?” I ask, thinking it had to be a kindergarten kind of event.
Kristal grips my wrist, tears of laughter filling her eyes. “Don’t tell a soul! Summer before sophomore year!”
We almost fall over laughing.
“It gets worse,” Kristal says between laughs. “My mother made me take off my shorts and underwear in the garage. I…I still have this image of her running to the garbage can with this…this
laden
pair of Victoria’s Secret black lace undies.”
The two of us slump to the hallway floor. I’m laughing so hard, my stomach muscles cramp in the best kind of pain. Both Sandy and Vanessa come out to check on us.
For the rest of the afternoon, Kristal and I cannot control ourselves, pasting ads for toe fungus medicine and Depends next to the puppies and beach sunset pictures on our “self-soothing” collages. Cleaning up the mess on our table, Kristal leans close and whispers, “I have never told anyone that story, Cat. Not anyone. You’re the only one.”
Her words make me forget that last night I added a new bottle of Tylenol to my shoe box. They make me forget that I am terminal.
This hour and a half has to be one of the best afternoons of my life.
As soon as I get home from St. Anne’s, my phone choos. It’s Kristal. “Still!!!! laughing!!!!”
“Me too!!!!” I type back immediately.
Mom turns away from the kitchen sink, where she’s scrubbing out a tall Tupperware container that held the chili she made on Sunday. She mouths, “Michael?” with her eyebrows raised questioningly.
I shake my head, ignoring the slow burn that ignites with every micromanagement of my life. I move to the living room.
“Are you missing any more this week?” Kristal writes.
“No. You?” I answer.
“Here all week but missing next Friday to check out colleges.Would rather go to IOP! Hahahahahahaha!!”
Mom scurries into the living room and stands over me, drying her hands on a kitchen towel. She stage-whispers
Amy raps again. “C’mon already. I don’t feel good,” she says in a low voice.
Kristal flings open the door and Amy barrels in. In the fluorescent light, the blue shadows under her eyes make the rest of her face a pale, greenish hue. She clutches her lower belly.
“Uh…would you mind giving me some privacy?” Amy asks, not quite making eye contact with us. She looks longingly at an open stall. “I’m sorry. It must be something I ate.”
These three sentences are the most Amy has ever spoken to me. And the sole thing she’s ever said to Kristal was how disruptive Kristal’s late arrival was that one time. Since then, she only talks with Sandy, the boys, or her Immaculate Conception sidekick, Alexis.
“Oh jeez, sure!” Kristal says, moving toward the door. “Can we get you anything? Water?”
Amy shakes her head and gives a forced smile. “Don’t tell Alexis. Or anyone. It’s embarrassing.” She moves quickly into the stall, slamming the door behind her.
As I follow Kristal out, there’s an incredibly long, loud wet-sounding eruption from Amy’s stall.
I start to smirk, but then Kristal says, “That’s why I never use a public bathroom. No dignity.” Instantly, I’m brought back to yesterday’s session with Dr. McCallum and Grandma, and I get an image of me rambling in the chair at Rodrick’s salon about wanting to look like Audrey Hepburn for my fantasy trip to Italy. The happy buzz from Kristal wanting my number ebbs until Kristal whispers, “I actually shit in my pants in my mother’s car. She was furious. We were at the mall and I had to go but wouldn’t use the bathroom there. On the drive home, I just couldn’t hold it in any longer.”
We both begin to crack up outside Room Three.
“The car reeked for weeks. Oh my God, Cat,” Kristal says softly, laughing and holding her stomach. “It was horrible.”
“When?” I ask, thinking it had to be a kindergarten kind of event.
Kristal grips my wrist, tears of laughter filling her eyes. “Don’t tell a soul! Summer before sophomore year!”
We almost fall over laughing.
“It gets worse,” Kristal says between laughs. “My mother made me take off my shorts and underwear in the garage. I…I still have this image of her running to the garbage can with this…this
laden
pair of Victoria’s Secret black lace undies.”
The two of us slump to the hallway floor. I’m laughing so hard, my stomach muscles cramp in the best kind of pain. Both Sandy and Vanessa come out to check on us.
For the rest of the afternoon, Kristal and I cannot control ourselves, pasting ads for toe fungus medicine and Depends next to the puppies and beach sunset pictures on our “self-soothing” collages. Cleaning up the mess on our table, Kristal leans close and whispers, “I have never told anyone that story, Cat. Not anyone. You’re the only one.”
Her words make me forget that last night I added a new bottle of Tylenol to my shoe box. They make me forget that I am terminal.
This hour and a half has to be one of the best afternoons of my life.
As soon as I get home from St. Anne’s, my phone choos. It’s Kristal. “Still!!!! laughing!!!!”
“Me too!!!!” I type back immediately.
Mom turns away from the kitchen sink, where she’s scrubbing out a tall Tupperware container that held the chili she made on Sunday. She mouths, “Michael?” with her eyebrows raised questioningly.
I shake my head, ignoring the slow burn that ignites with every micromanagement of my life. I move to the living room.
“Are you missing any more this week?” Kristal writes.
“No. You?” I answer.
“Here all week but missing next Friday to check out colleges.Would rather go to IOP! Hahahahahahaha!!”
Mom scurries into the living room and stands over me, drying her hands on a kitchen towel. She stage-whispers
Similar Books
