The Cat That Went to Homecoming Page 5

  Mom offered to give them all a ride home, but Cindy’s mother was already on her way to pick them up so we waited for her with them. I knew Mom was concerned about their safety more than anything, but I was still grateful to spend those last few minutes with them.

  “Ellen, we’re all getting together at my house next Saturday. Would you like to join us?” Cindy asked.

  My euphoria changed back to anxiety just that fast. Spending the day at Cindy’s meant swimming, and swimming meant swim suit. I didn’t even own a swim suit, let alone would want to be seen by Brandon in one! I had to think quickly about how to respond.

  “That sounds like a lot of fun,” I said, “but I’ll have to get back to you about that. I’m not sure if I’m available or not, you know, with my animal therapy work and all.” Liar! I hadn’t even taken the test yet and even if I had, I wasn’t an animal handler yet. There were a few more steps to take before I was ready.

  “I hope you can make it,” Margaret said.

  “I do, too,” Sarah agreed.

  Brandon didn’t say anything. That was a little disappointing.

  Chapter Ten

  I was in a great mood for several days following the concert. I didn’t understand it, but I had so much motivation. I took Hershey out for his daily walks faithfully and took the online handlers exam. I passed the exam, but I needed to print out registration paperwork that had to be completed and sent to Pet Partners, one of which was paperwork to be filled out by his veterinarian. Since we did not have a printer, I didn’t know how to go about this, so I asked my mom.

  She told me to wait until she got home from work that evening because she would ask a few coworkers for advice. She also told me to call and make Hershey’s vet appointment.

  After Mom left for work, I opened my laptop and decided to internet surf. I knew what Facebook was, but had never been on the site. My curiosity was peaked after meeting Brandon, Margaret, and Sarah. To be honest, it was probably Brandon that I was the most interested in looking up, but I would tell myself it was all of them!

  I typed in Facebook and found out that I needed to create an account in order to go into it. I didn’t know that, nor did I know you had to be “friends” with someone in order to see their profile. Oh, brother! That meant I could not anonymously look at Brandon’s profile…I meant Brandon, Margaret, and Sarah’s profiles!

  To create an account, I needed an email address. Jane had helped me create one on the day she brought over the laptop because I needed one for communication with Pet Partners.

  Hershey hopped up onto the table and walked across my keyboard, then lay across it. He rubbed his face against the screen to mark it so all of his imaginary foes would know who it belonged to.

  “Hershey, are you trying to tell me something?” I asked him, thinking maybe this whole social media thing was a bad idea. It was probably in my best interest to stay away from that kind of socialization.

  Hershey climbed onto my shoulder and nuzzled in my hair. I laughed and stood, picking him up with me.

  “You’re absolutely right, Hershey, I don’t need Facebook!” I carried him into the living room and sat on the couch. He curled up on my lap as I stroked his back. I couldn’t help thinking about how special Hershey made me feel, and I felt a twinge of jealousy.

  What if he treats everyone we encounter the way he treats me? What if I wasn’t going to be able to share him?

  I picked him up and laid flat on my back across the couch, placing him on my stomach. He quickly resettled and seemed to realize that it was nap time.

  I laid there for a long time just staring at the ceiling and listening to Hershey’s soft snoring. My thoughts wandered off to Brandon and I wished I had exchanged phone numbers with him after the concert. If we had done that, would he actually call me? Maybe he was just being polite that night. I was confused. Was it normal to think about someone you didn’t know as much as I thought about Brandon?

  I’d had a crush on John Peck throughout most of my life and had thought many things about him. In my imagination, John took me to amusement parks, he took me roller skating, we went to movies together, and he even gave me his class ring! I knew John Peck would never do those things in real life, so those daydreams were a pleasant distraction from everyday life. Thinking about Brandon was not as comfortable because thinking about him in itself was a distraction!

  I sighed and tried to sit up without disturbing Hershey, however, that was impossible. He opened his eyes and looked at me as if he were saying “What are you doing? I’m trying to sleep here!”

  It was time for me to be bold and make a move I would never have considered in the past. I didn’t know what came over me, but I told Hershey I would be right back and I walked over to Cindy’s house. It had been over three years since I was in her house, or yard, or even her side of the subdivision. She lived dangerously close to Darcel.

  I walked up to her front door and lightly knocked. If no one answered, then at least I could tell myself I tried. Cindy did answer the door, and standing behind her was Brandon.

  “Hi, Ellen, come in,” she said opening the door wide enough for me to enter.

  I walked in and looked around nervously. There was no one else in the house, so I relaxed just a little bit.

  “Cindy, are you still having your gathering on Saturday?” I asked.

  “Yes,” she said and laughed. At first I thought she was laughing at me, but then I noticed that Brandon was tickling her ribs. I felt a little jealous! I felt myself blushing because I came to the realization that Brandon and Cindy might be a couple.

  I carried on with my plan, asking Cindy if I was still invited.

  “Yes, come over around two o’clock, and bring your suit and a towel,” she said.

  “All right, I’ll be here. Brandon it was nice to see you again,” I said as I made my way back to the door.

  “It was nice to see you again as well,” he replied. He held the door for me and then added, “I hope to see you on Saturday.” If I hadn’t seen him tickle Cindy, I might have felt a little elated at that, but I was too busy trying to hide my disappointment.

  I started to walk home feeling too sorry for myself to look around, which was a big mistake. I barely made it past the end of Cindy’s driveway when I felt myself being shoved from behind. I fell forward with my hands extended and landed flat on my stomach, scraping the skin off the palms of both hands in the process. The left side of my face hit the pavement. I could feel a burning pain spread across my face and tasted blood.

  I tried to stand, but was knocked back to the ground and immediately kicked in the ribs. I curled up into a ball to protect my ribs and covered my head with my hands as the kicking continued. I screamed for help.

  I heard footsteps pounding the pavement and peeked through my arms to see Cindy and Brandon running to my aid.

  There was a break in the beating which allowed me to sit up and see who my attacker actually was. Brandon was behind Darcel holding her arms behind her like chicken wings while she shouted obscenities at him.

  “Let me go, queer boy!” she screamed. He held her arms tight while Cindy helped me up.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” Cindy shouted at Darcel.

  “Stay out of this Cindy, and tell your fag friend to let me go.”

  “Cindy, take Ellen home.” Brandon said, “I’ll hold this one back.”

  Cindy brushed some of the gravel from the shoulder of the road off me and linked her arm in mine. I was so stunned by the ambush attack that I never even had the chance to cry! Cindy tried leading me in the direction of my house, when I heard Darcel shout, “That’s right, take that big loser home! She can’t hide forever!”

  I had been verbally bullied by Darcel and so many others for years, but never had I been physically attacked. This attack was an escalation in her bullying. I felt that if I didn’t stand up for myself right now, the bullying would never stop.

  I pulled away from Cindy. I turned and faced Darcel and my
whole body filled with a rage like I had never felt before. I felt it running through my veins, feeding toxic anger into every organ in my body. I was silent as I looked at her, but I’m pretty sure my face showed her my anger.

  “You made a big mistake, Darcel,” I said in an even, confident tone I didn’t know I had.

  “Oh and just what mistake is that, Watermelon? Are you going to have your mom come beat me up?” She mocked, still being held back but trying like hell to get out of Brandon’s grasp. She looked at Cindy and added, “Her slut mom got me kicked out of Summerfest! Watermelon can’t even fight her own battles.”

  “You just started World War Three,” I replied, and started to walk away.

  “How do you think a person like YOU can engage in warfare with a person like ME? Don’t you know who I am? I have more friends than you have fat cells!” she shouted.

  “It’s not the certain number of friends a person has in their life that matters, it’s the number of friends that person can be certain of that does.” That comment came out of Brandon’s mouth, and completely stunned me.

  I faced Darcel, who was considered the most beautiful girl in the school. She was the head cheerleader and school slut. I took a really good look at her and truly noticed her for the first time. Why hadn’t I ever noticed the acne covering her cheeks? Or how over-processed and straw-like her hair was? Could she be using her bravado as a shield to cover her own insecurities? I wanted so badly to use any of her imperfections as a weapon to smash her shield into smithereens, but found myself feeling sorry for her. She was no better than me. She herself had certain insecurities, she just chose to point other peoples’ imperfections out as a way of preventing her own from being discovered.

  I looked at Cindy, who had been trying so hard to be my friend, but I kept pushing her away. Why? So Cindy could be like Darcel? I looked at Brandon, a boy who had just met me and knew nothing about me. I thought about my mom, about Jane and her husband, Stan.

  I could have used Darcel’s acne as a weapon to inflict some pain on her, but instead I thought about the good people in my life and realized I wanted to be like them.

  Brandon let go of Darcel’s arms and came over to take my left hand while Cindy took the right. My two friends then escorted me home.

  “Thank you. I think the two of you saved my life!” I said to Brandon and Cindy as I stepped onto my front porch.

  “She’s a real bitch,” Brandon said about Darcel, “I’ve heard guys talk about her in school, but I’ve never met her.”

  Brandon went to a private Catholic high school and was not a part of the public school scene. Apparently Darcel’s reputation crossed all borders!

  “Are you going to be okay?” Cindy asked, looking cautiously at my scraped face and fat lip.

  “I’m just a little banged up, nothing too serious. I’ll be fine. Thanks for walking me home.”

  “Call me if you need anything,” Cindy said as she backed away from my porch.

  I gave them a weak smile and waved goodbye before walking through the front door. Only when I was behind the closed door did I allow myself to cry. Hershey climbed onto my lap after I slid down the door and sat on the floor sobbing. He tried to lick away the tears, but there were too many.

  Chapter Eleven

  The left side of my face was an angry red and bloody abrasion. My lower lip was swollen to almost twice its normal size. The palms of my hands looked like my face, only there was gravel embedded in places that I had to pick out with tweezers. There were painful spots all over my rib cage and stomach that I was sure would be bruised in a matter of hours. I was a mess! I wouldn’t be able to hide any of this from my mom, who would be home in just a few minutes.

  As I gingerly blotted hydrogen peroxide onto the raw skin of my scraped face, I tried to come up with a scenario that my mom would buy. During the cleaning of my face, I stopped and looked at myself. I saw the abrasion and the fat lip immediately, but the reason I put the cotton ball down and stared was because my face didn’t look like my face to me. It wasn’t as full as it used to be. I only had one chin! I slowly turned my head from side to side, taking in my new appearance. Were those cheek bones?

  My gaze ventured to my neck. I pushed my shirt aside and, to my surprise, I could see my collarbones! They weren’t as prominent as those of a starving actress, but they were there. Wow! How did all this happen? I knew my pants were getting a bit baggy on me because I could actually pull them down to go to the bathroom without unbuttoning and unzipping them, but I hadn’t really thought much of it.

  I didn’t really make any dietary changes, but I had been working for Jane for over a month. Most days I rode my bike the six miles to her house and back. On those days, Hershey had to stay home, but on the days Mom was able to take me there, he came along. The first few times it took me almost forty-five minutes to get there, but lately, it wasn’t more than a half-hour. And while there, I spent a good four hours sweating in the sun bending and kneeling and hauling debris to the roadside.

  Jane’s current animal handler teams had to go through the same test that Hershey did to recertify for their Pet Partners registration every two years. On days when she was recertifying her therapy animal teams, I would help her by acting out roles. I was an old woman in a walker, or a person in a wheelchair. When Jane wasn’t there, I didn’t eat lunch, but when she was home, she insisted on feeding me. She made fabulous salads with fresh vegetables and greens from her garden and her own dressing that was to die for!

  I was pretty sure the job with Jane was responsible for my drop in weight. I wished I knew how much I had lost, but I didn’t even know how much I weighed to begin with. Mom had a scale in the bathroom, but I was like a horse with blinders on when it came to the scale.

  If I don’t see it, it can’t hurt me! Just call me The Queen of Avoidance.

  I looked over at the scale. ‘Should I?’ I thought. I pulled at the waistband of my jeans and folded it over, trying to judge just how much extra fabric there was. It had to be at least two inches. I stared into my own eyes in the mirror and shook my head. “No, I’m not ready for that,” I told myself.

  I heard Mom bustle through the front door and call out to me, “Ellen! Could you please give me a hand?”

  I ran out of the bathroom and raced to the front door because her voice was so urgent. I couldn’t imagine what was wrong, what she needed help with.

  When we met, we both stared at each other in disbelief. Mom was carrying a brand new printer! What the heck?

  “What the heck?” Mom echoed my silent comment, nearly dropping the box. “What happened to you? Let me take a look at your face.” She plopped the box on the floor and rushed to me. “Who did this to you?”

  I tried to brush it off. “Mom, it’s nothing. I just fell off of my bike,” I said, but she looked at me with that ‘LIAR’ look.

  “Did you clean this wound?” she asked as she inspected my cheek.

  I raised my palms and said, “Yes, and these too.” I hoped the scraped hands would make it more convincing that this was a bike accident.

  She held my hands out and shook her head, “How in the world did you fall off your bike?” she asked.

  “I was distracted by an animal crossing the street. A squirrel, maybe a chipmunk, I don’t know which. All I know is, I was watching it run past me and the next thing I knew I was on the ground. It looks worse than it is, really Mom.” I hoped she would believe this story. I was too ashamed to tell her the truth, despite the fact that I actually stood up for myself.

  “Let’s at least have a doctor look at you and make sure you’re okay,” she said.

  “NO!” I said in too loud a tone. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to raise my voice. Mom I’m just fine, I swear. No broken bones, see?” I said as I waved my hands and danced around to prove it. I ignored the screaming pain in my ribs, and I must’ve been successful because she believed me.

  “Well then at least let me put some antibiotic ointment on these scrapes so th
ey heal faster and don’t scar,” she said as she headed for the bathroom.

  I picked up the printer and put the box on the kitchen table, wondering where the heck it came from when Mom returned with the ointment. I sat in one of the chairs and let her apply the ointment to my face.

  “You’re wondering where the printer came from,” she stated matter-of-factly.

  I nodded in agreement.

  “I bought it for you,” she said.

  “How could you afford it?” I asked.

  She finished applying the ointment and sat in the chair next to me. “There are two issues I never discuss with you, child support and your father. I don’t want to do anything or say anything to impact your impression of him.”

  “He has not come to visit me or called me in over three years! He has damaged my impression of him on his own. There is nothing you could say that would make it worse,” I barked back at her.

  “Well nevertheless, there has been a change that is going to positively affect our living situation, and I feel that you have the right to know what is going on.

  “The state has found your father, and I am finally receiving child support.” She went on. “He and I have to appear in court next week. I think he may want to see you while he’s here.” She looked nervous and I must have looked apprehensive because she said, “Ellen, our divorce had nothing to do with you. After it was all said and done, he moved to Ohio and began a new life. I’m certain that he never meant to detach himself from you. Time has a way of getting away from a person, and sometimes a year or two can go by without a person realizing it.”

  “Did you speak to him? Is that what he said? Time got away from him?” I was angry. I could understand a person becoming so absorbed in their life that some time goes by, but when a holiday like Christmas comes around, or a birthday, wouldn’t that jolt a person back to reality?