Cloudburst (Storms 2)

I sat there with my hand over the phone. If she called right back crying, I’d probably say I was sorry, too, but apparently, I had been so sharp and biting that she was afraid to redial. When I reviewed my words and the way I must have sounded, I realized I resembled Ryder Garfield.

Even after so little contact with him, was I taking on some of his bitterness? I didn’t even know why he was so bitter. What was his pain?

After I calmed down some more, I did feel bad about the way I had spoken to Jessica. I shouldn’t have taken it out on her. She wasn’t the only one who treated me this way, and after all, I was partly responsible for the way they thought about me. From the way I lived now, it did seem to them as though none of what had happened was that devastating. I did well in school. I was attractive and witty. I didn’t mope about, and I wasn’t seeing a therapist, nor did I act out and get into trouble. I was popular and of course, I had so much in the way of material things, things they cherished. Why wouldn’t they envy me?

Before I got myself ready for bed, I decided to call her back and tell her I was sorry I had jumped down her throat. She was so happy I called that she couldn’t stop apologizing herself. I thought I would make her night by telling her about my inviting Ryder to the March estate.

“And he’s coming?”

“I think so,” I said. “When I’m sure, I’ll tell you.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t say anything about it, please. He’s not comfortable at Pacifica yet.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

“See you tomorrow.”

“Great. I can’t wait to hear how things go between you two.”

One thing I was grateful for, I told myself when I went to bed, was that I didn’t have to live my life vicariously through someone else, like Jessica was doing through me. It always amazed me, regardless of what I had and could do now. No matter how obvious and clear it was that I should be the one envious of Jessica and the others, they were envious of me.

Whatever gifts you gave me, Mama, I thought, were surely wonderful, gifts most other girls my age apparently never have. I fell asleep easily, wrapping myself snugly in the sound of my mother’s voice, the scent of her beautiful freshly washed hair, and the softness of her lips on my cheek. As long as I could remember all of that, I would be safe, even here, I thought.

When Ryder drove into the school parking lot the next morning, I saw that he was alone. Once again, he arrived moments after I had. Actually, I had stalled getting out of the car in the hope that he would, and when he did, I got out, joining him.

“Where’s your sister?” I asked.

“I forgot today was her inside-out day.”

“Inside-out day? What’s that?”

“She sees the therapist my mother arranged for her to see. He turns her inside out and looks for cracks and holes in her head.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t you have a therapist? I thought it was like having a dentist around here,” he said as we started for the entrance.

“No, but my foster sister, Kiera, has one. She was seeing him regularly and now sees him only when she’s home.”

“See? Like a dental checkup. He takes mental X-rays and looks for cavities.”

I couldn’t help but laugh.

“I have one, too,” he revealed at the door. I paused. “He thinks I need a mental root canal.”

He walked in ahead of me. I caught up, and we started for homeroom. Every one of my girlfriends lingered to say good morning, obviously looking for him to reply. He didn’t.

“How long have you been seeing a therapist?” I asked.

“I can’t remember when I wasn’t,” he said, and paused at the classroom door. “Why? Scare you? It’s all right. You don’t have to look for any excuses to avoid me. I won’t come over to your palace today,” he added, and went to his desk, again leaving me stunned.

Everyone was rushing in around me, trying to start conversations, but I would be damned if I was going to put up with his tantrums. I marched across the room and stood by his desk. He looked up.

“I was only making conversation, Ryder. I am not afraid of you or put off by your seeing a therapist. As you say, it’s equivalent to seeing a dentist, and from what I can see, you might need some root canal after all.”

I turned and went to my desk, my rage so evident that all eyes were on me. I plopped into my seat and didn’t look at anyone. I wasn’t sure whom I was more angry at, him or myself for permitting him to get under my skin so quickly. Jessica and many of the girls were looking at me and then at him and then back to me. She made a gesture to indicate What’s up? and I shook my head. The bell rang, and Mrs. Nelson called for everyone to take his or her seat and be quiet. Sometimes Dr. Steiner began the day with an announcement or two. I looked up, surprised, when I heard Mrs. Nelson say, “Yes, Ryder?”