The Last Girl Page 3

  He looked up. “Hi, Sonya.” He was dressed in the same T-shirt and jeans, but without the red neckerchief. “Did you check on the Blue and White today?”

  “Never heard of it.”

  “The Blue and White blog is the unofficial blog of East Marine High School. Good or bad, it’s on here.”

  Sonya looked at the page Bobby was reading. The header was in blue and white, the school colors, and the most recent thread was entitled, “Sexy Rexy Spreads The Love.”

  A photo showed a handsome, baby-faced boy in a tuxedo, a happy grin on his face, surrounded by his friends.

  Sonya read the entry:

  “Rex Gerber has done it again. By the time he graduates, he will be a father for the second time. The other baby isn’t two years old yet, you’d think Rex had figured out how to put on a condom, but sophomore Amanda Cooper will be showing by Christmastime. Rex doesn’t have enough room in his locker for another baby, maybe his parents’ medical insurance could cover a vasectomy...”

  Bobby chuckled. “Scandal sheet, but it’s nothing the other kids aren’t already talking about.”

  “It’s only funny until you end up on it,” Piper said. “Anyone is fair game.”

  Bobby nodded. “Some of them will do something stupid just hoping SkolClik will write about them.”

  “Who’s SkolClik?” Sonya asked.

  “Nobody knows,” Bobby said. “I think he’s a junior or a senior. The blog has only been up for the last year.”

  “I’m surprised nothing has been mentioned about Jessica,” Piper said.

  “Give it time.”

  “She’s still in the hospital.”

  “Did Jessica have a boyfriend?” Sonya asked.

  “She never mentioned it.”

  “It could be any guy,” Bobby said.

  “He seemed to know when she was leaving her house,” Sonya said. “I think he planned it.”

  “I’m sure the police will question every guy in the neighborhood.” Bobby looked back at the screen. “Here it is...”

  They all read the new entry:

  “Freshman Slashing

  Jessica Holden was leaving her home in East Marine this morning when she was attacked, her face cut up. Police are investigating. More info later.”

  “The police will be watching her,” Sonya said. “And I’m sure the paper already knows about it.”

  “Would they want to print some big article?” Bobby asked.

  Sonya shrugged. “Maybe. My step-dad, Cal Whistler, is a crime reporter for the Marine Press. He used to take me to work with him sometimes, before my mom died. He knew some of the local police.”

  “What did your mom do?” Piper asked.

  “She was a teacher for awhile. That’s how she met my dad.”

  “Your dad is a teacher?”

  “Used to be. He worked for a bank in Falls River until last year. Now he goes on job interviews and looks after my Uncle Bill. He has Alzheimer’s disease.”

  “Is he really old?”

  “He’s sixty-four, and Alzheimer’s before seventy is considered early-onset. It runs in families. My Grandfather Aron also had it, and so could my dad someday.”

  Bobby looked to Piper. “We’re no strangers to mental illness...”

  “Bobby’s brother Rick is bi-polar,” Piper said.

  “He’s a jerk, medicated or not.” Bobby shut the lap-top. “He’s moved back in.”

  Piper looked surprised. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

  “So am I. And he’s off his meds. Mom’s working overtime, so I get the pleasure of his company.”

  “Is he working?”

  “Not anymore. I wish he could get a check every month, we could keep him in some apartment on the other side of town.” Bobby sighed, putting the lap-top aside. “Let’s show Sonya some of your toys, Princess.”

  “I’ll get my X-Box. I can hook it up down here.”

  Bobby grinned. “Rock Band-The Beatles. I get to be Paul.”

  Piper had walked away, heading for upstairs. “You’re always Paul.”

  “You’re always John. That leaves Sonya with George or Ringo.”

  Sonya was reminded of what Aron said about George Harrison being a talented bass player. She wondered what Piper and Bobby would think of her dad being in a band that had a hit in Germany and the Netherlands over thirty years ago. “I don’t mind. George or Ringo.”

  *****

  Sonya stayed at Piper’s house longer than expected, the time almost seven when Aron picked her up.

  She took her cell phone to her room, wanting to call Cal, although she had not spoken to him since she moved in with Aron and Bill.

  Sonya’s last days in the home she had shared with Cal and her mother consisted of hurtful silences and arguments. With her mother’s death, Sonya had been hanging on to the pieces of her life that still remained, and Cal thought she did not understand when he explained that the medical insurance refused to cover all of the expense for Carolyn’s cancer treatments and that selling the house was the only way out. With his credit damaged, Cal had to sublet his apartment from a friend, because no one would let him rent in his own name.

  “Why can’t I live with you at your apartment?” Sonya had asked.

  “It’s a one-bedroom, and Aron wants you to live with him. I think it’s the right time,” Cal said.

  “What if I refuse?”

  “Where are you going to go? Sonya, this hurts me, too, but you need someone to take care of you.”

  “You’ve always taken care of me.”

  “I can’t now, and Aron deserves the chance.”

  She found Cal’s number in her phone and dialed.

  “Hello?”

  Sonya could imagine Cal, with his open, cheerful face, sitting in his small office at the Marine Press building. He had lost more weight and hair, only a fringe of dark brown around his head, wearing a dark green Michigan State University sweatshirt. “Hi, Cal. It’s Sonya.”

  “Hey! How’s it going?”

  “I’m good. I went back to school today.”

  “Make new friends?”

  “A few. How are you?”

  “Just working. Started playing golf again. How’s that Bill and Aron?”

  “Dad’s still looking for work and Uncle Bill is...okay.”

  “He’s not getting worse, is he?”

  “No. The meds help. Cal, have you heard anything about a girl named Jessica Holden?”

  “The girl who was attacked?”

  “Yes. She’s a classmate of mine.”

  “I don’t think she’s been released from the hospital. The mother did not want to comment. My source at the police department told me that the neighborhood is being canvassed, every male accounted for with alibis.”

  “A boyfriend?”

  “Who knows? Boys get jealous, girls get jealous of other girls...”

  “Are the police convinced that the attacker is a guy?” Sonya asked.

  “Almost convinced, after a description of the attack by the girl.” She heard Cal sigh. “Is Aron there?”

  “Why?”

  “I’d like to speak to him.”

  “He’s busy.”

  “You’re a bad liar, Sonya. Have you and Aron talked about the attack?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  “Then he will want you to be careful until this psycho is caught. Don’t hang around the neighborhood alone.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “You’re too independent, always have been. Don’t just take off on your bicycle. Get a ride.”

  “Okay. Cal?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m sorry I was so difficult.”

  “It was a difficult time.”

  “I still miss her. Dad doesn’t care.”

  “He does, but they were divorced a long time ago.”

  “Why did they try for ten years to have a baby, only to get divorced by the time I was two y
ears old? I can’t ask him about stuff like that, he gets quiet.”

  “You have to be patient. Some people don’t like to talk about the past, it’s too painful.”

  “I feel like he doesn’t trust me.”

  “You did very poor in school last year, you’re lucky you were placed in the ninth grade. You missed half the school year, doing your homework whenever you wanted.”

  “At the hospital. Why did I have to care about school if Mom was so sick?”

  “I can’t answer that, Sonya. But just go to school everyday and get good grades this year. I know you can do it.”

  “I feel older compared to the other kids. Tonight, I was hanging out with my new friends. They were having fun. I was, too, but then I started feeling like a stranger, like I didn’t belong.”

  “Give it time. You’re still sad, but it gets easier. Are you eating? Sleeping?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Keep doing it. I get up everyday and come to work, because I would feel worse if I didn’t.”

  “Are you all through with your bankruptcy?”

  “Yes. I am now free to rebuild my credit, which means taking a second job.”

  “Doing what?”

  “I’m not sure. Something part-time.”

  “Dad went to Work Staffing.”

  “Everyone’s favorite temp agency. I wish him luck.”

  “I’m glad you’re not mad at me.”

  “Never. I want you to call me more often. Maybe we can go to lunch or a movie sometime, okay?”

  “I’d like that.”

  “So would I. I have to get back to work, but we’ll talk soon.”

  *****

  Sonya was in bed asleep by ten. Aron and Bill were watching TV in the living room when the phone rang.

  Aron answered. “Hello?”

  “Aron, this is Cal. I spoke to Sonya tonight. She called me.”

  Aron was silent for a moment, and Cal could imagine the cold disapproval on his handsome face. “I don’t have a problem with her calling you...”

  Cal was unconvinced, but he continued. “Neither do I, just with some of the things she told me. I think you need to talk to her more.”

  “About what?”

  “About living there with you and Bill. I don’t think she knows, but if she asks, do you want me to tell her?”

  “I think it’s more my responsibility...”

  Aron was keeping his voice even, that trace of his remaining accent making Cal feel as if he were in a movie, negotiating with the European terrorist who had his finger on the button. “I agree. But she still seems depressed.”

  “She’s doing better now. She smiles more, she eats. We do talk, but only about certain things.”

  “She asked me about Jessica Holden, if I knew anything.”

  “It’s too early, I would think.”

  “Right.”

  “So...how are you doing?” Aron asked.

  “Oh, fine. The bankruptcy went through, and the paper is going to hang on for another year.”

  “Who ever thought the Marine Press would go out of business?”

  “Around for over a hundred years, but nothing lasts forever.”

  “That’s for sure.”

  “Sonya told me you went to Work Staffing.”

  “I walked in there, and it was like a tomb, so silent. When someone finally noticed I was there, they parked me in front of a computer and gave me all of these tests. Then they asked if I wanted to take a special course in their office software, charging me over two hundred dollars. I told them to call me later.”

  “It’s tough out there.”

  Aron glanced over at Bill, who was asleep in his chair. “Bill is taking care of us both.”

  “Funny how things work out.”

  “Bill never would have refused.”

  “I wonder if he remembers.”

  “Oh, he does.”

  “Would he—”

  “He could one of these days. He’s always been a little unpredictable.”

  “Carolyn said that he never made any demands...”

  “More out of guilt than compassion. But he wanted to be unselfish.”

  “I understand.”

  “You did an unselfish thing, too, Cal.”

  “I just want Sonya to be happy.”

  “She will be. After awhile

  *****

  Jessica was not a high-spirited girl, and her passive personality was never more obvious than after she was admitted to Marine General Hospital.

  Her mother, Ann-Marie, who had taken some medication to stay calm, sat in a chair in Jess’s room. As soon as she received the call, her boss at the realty office let her leave. Her worst fears, of rape and assault, went through her head as she drove the almost-twenty miles from her job back to Marine and the hospital.

  Jess had been sitting on a bed in the Emergency Room, the cuts not yet stitched. Ann-Marie hugged her, relieved she was conscious, but Jess was strangely calm and silent, having been given a pain killer.

  Ann-Marie called Jess’s father, but not before the police appeared, wanting to ask Jess questions and take photos of her cuts. She tried to communicate clearly, but the shock and medication was blocking her memory. The men left, and Jess endured the stitches and dressings before being transferred to a room.

  A tray was brought to her, but she did not eat. Ann-Marie opened the window blind, and they both watched the sun set.

  “You’re mad at me,” Jess said.

  Ann-Marie shook her head. “No, of course not.”

  “You’re going to hate the scars.”

  “I’m just glad you’re alive. He didn’t rape you...”

  “What difference would that make?” Jess asked.

  “More scars.”

  “I can’t go to school looking like this.”

  “You can stay home tomorrow, but you’ll have to go back.”

  “Nobody I know did this.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Who would hate me this much?”

  “I don’t know, Sweetie. But the police will find him.”

  Jess started to make a keening noise inside her bandages, a low sob that turned to loud crying. Ann-Marie gave her a tissue, patting her on the back. Jess had never cried so hard, not even during her parents’ divorce last year. This pain was intimate, more personal, than whatever dumb decisions the adults around her made. She was never as pretty as Piper Jones or even made the Honor Roll, but now she felt as if she could not even try to be a part of things without them all looking at her face. She would be on the outside, alone, like the kids in Special Ed or Todd Kemp, the school drug dealer, who weighed almost three hundred pounds and had to use a Hoveround to get from class to class.

  Ann-Marie took Jess’s hand. When she did this, she noticed that the birthstone ring Jess’s late great-grandmother had given Jess was missing. She and her Granny Rae shared the same birthstone, the May emerald, and Jess would never lose that ring, but maybe it fell off during the attack.

  Ann-Marie did not want to upset Jess more, so she said nothing as the girl laid down, going to sleep. Over the next few weeks, she would take the pain medication until it was gone, wanting more. Ann-Marie would refuse to renew the prescription, and Jess would buy Methadone from Todd at school with her allowance. Getting through the days not feeling anything would help her forget her loss; of her looks, innocence, interest in school and her friends. If she did not have money, she would trade her CDs, cell phone, and lap-top, with the excuse that these things had been stolen.

  Ann-Marie knew Jess did not have the strength to get through this, she was still like a little girl in the world her parents and school had created for her. Ann-Marie realized she had let Jess down, because she had never prepared her, believing that Jess’s upbringing would be different from her own; less fearful, less abusive. Jess never gave her any problems, so raising her had been easy. Now, Ann-Marie could feel a c
hill come over her as she thought about Jess’s future, and if she had the will to survive.

  Chapter Four

  “Thanks for coming with me,” Piper said.

  Sonya looked around Jess’s front yard while standing at the porch of the white ranch house with black trim. She was gazing down the gravel driveway where Jess was attacked. “No problem...”

  When Piper had asked Sonya to accompany her on a visit to Jess’s house after school, Sonya could not quite figure out why Piper asked her in the first place, aside from the fact that Bobby had a dentist’s appointment. Piper could have asked Kelly or Courtney, but Sonya had a feeling they also begged off.

  Piper knocked at the door and Ann-Marie was still in her work suit, dark hair pulled into a bun. Her gaze was not warm.

  “Mrs. Holden?” Piper asked. “Jess invited us over.”

  Ann-Marie looked over Piper in her long, gray pullover sweater with a heart-shaped neckline and black leggings, a leather belt at her waist. She noticed the tall blonde was much more made up than the red-head next to her, wearing a blue sweatshirt and jeans.

  Ann-Marie sighed. “Well, come on in.”

  Piper and Sonya entered the small foyer that led to the living room. Piper and Sonya were taken aback by the thick, flesh-colored bandages wrapped around Jess’s face, her upper and lower lips full with dark stitches. She was laying on the couch. A white-haired woman in an easy chair sat next to her.

  “Hi, Jess,” Piper said.

  Jess opened her eyes, and both girls realized she had been asleep. “Oh, hi...”

  “This is Sonya. She’s new at school. I asked her to come with me.”

  “Hi, Sonya. I look hideous, don’t I?”

  The old lady in the chair chuckled. “The bandages cover it, dear.”

  “This is my Gramma Joan,” Jess said.

  The girls said hello to Joan and Ann-Marie, who was already reaching for her briefcase and keys.

  “I have an open house,” she said. “I’ll be back later, Jess.”

  “How are houses selling around here?” Sonya asked.

  “It’s getting better. This one is at Whispering Pines, and there’s been people in and out all day.”

  “Mom almost had to go back to being a manager at Chuck E. Cheese,” Jess said.

  Ann-Marie shook her keys at Jess. “Good to see you’re getting your sense of humor back.”

  “I’d smile, but it might open the stitches.”

  “Have you heard from the police?” Piper asked.

  “They were here this morning.”

  Ann-Marie walked out, and Jess stayed silent until the door was shut. “I got an e-mail, and Mom freaked out and called them.”