Vicious Little Darlings by Katherine Easer Page B

Maddy’s an enigma, a true enigma. I don’t know what the hell’s going on with her half the time. She said she wanted a break, so I gave her one.”
    â€œWhen did she say that?”
    â€œI don’t know. About two weeks ago.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œHow the hell am I supposed to know?”
    â€œYou never told her about us, did you?”
    â€œNo! That’s wack!”
    â€œThen why would she want a break?”
    â€œMaybe she wants to fuck some other guy. All she said was she couldn’t handle a long-distance relationship right now.” He pauses. “She met someone, didn’t she?”
    â€œWe go to a women’s college, Sebastian. Who do you think she’s going to meet?”
    â€œTell me who he is so I can kick his ass.”
    â€œThere’s no one. Look, I don’t know what’s going on with you guys, but she’s coming to see you, so …” I glance at my watch. Shit. Late again. “Gotta go. Don’t tell Maddy I called, okay? Bye.”
    â€œWait … Sarah?”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œDo you ever think about me?”
    â€œBye, Sebastian.”
    I hang up, totally confused. I don’t know who’s telling the truth. Maddy wouldn’t lie to me, would she? She did lie once—about the size of Sebastian’s penis—but that was a stupid lie, and one stupid lie doesn’t make you a liar. Besides, aren’t I the queen of stupid lies?
    Still, I get the feeling that Sebastian is telling the truth. For starters, he’s too lazy to lie. And he did seem genuinely jealous of this imaginary other guy.
    What is Maddy up to?
    After class, I go into town to buy an e.p.t. Then I dive into a bagel store and head straight for the unisex bathroom. I do the test. I wait. I pace the Ajaxed floor, biting my nails until they bleed. I want to scream, but don’t. I think of all the ways I’ll change my life if the universe grants me this one wish. I’ll take better care of myself, exercise, floss more. I’ll quit reading Us Weekly , quit having casual sex. I’ll read to the blind, study harder, and be nicer to senior citizens, including Nana. I’ll give Hope a bath when I get home. I’ll never have sex with Sebastian again.
    The test turns out negative.
    When I get back to the house, Agnes isn’t around and Maddy is still asleep in her room. I go to the backyard and look for Hope. I promised the universe I’d give her a bath, so that’s what I’m going to do. I may be an atheist, but a promise is a promise.
    Hope is sleeping on a bed of leaves under the maple tree. I check her food bowls, half-full of nuts and dried cranberries. Why does she eat so little and sleep so much? I know that’s not a good sign, but at least she looks peaceful.
    It’s a beautiful day. The air smells of cut grass and nutmeg. The sun is out, the birds are chirping, a cool breeze grazes my face. I feel oddly content. I’m not pregnant, and everything is as it should be. I have friends who care about me, a home, my whole life ahead of me.
    I hoist Hope up and carry her into the house. For someone who doesn’t eat, she sure weighs a ton. Fifty pounds, I would guess. I wonder if that’s normal for a fawn her age. I wonder if she misses her mother or the forest or any of her deer friends. She smells pretty rank. The kabbalah string Maddy tied around her right front leg is partly chewed, ready to fall off.
    I take Hope upstairs to the bathroom, which has a claw-foot tub with an attached shower unit, a pedestal sink, and a stained-glass window facing the neighbor’s house. Hope gets comfortable on the plush periwinkle rug and watches as I run the bath. I pour some bath gel into the water and wait for the citrus-basil scent to permeate the air. When it does, I take a deep breath. As the tub fills, weird shapes form on the surface of the water. Skulls and laughing faces. WTF? I get rid of them