A Woman Gone Mad (5 page)

If you asked me then—shit, if you ask me now—I still couldn’t tell you what happened that night, what changed in the space of time between being wrapped up in Michael’s arms with him raining kisses on me to when I found him with his friends down the street.

I guess you’ll have to ask him.

All I can tell you is that Lilly wasn’t right. Things didn’t get better.

They got devastatingly worse.

Michael began to build up walls around himself. He shut me out more than he let me in. Actually, after New Year’s, I don’t think he ever truly let me back in again.

Michael was perfect at keeping me reeled in though. Or I was just perfect at denying what was happening. What was coming at me like a freight train, and it was coming fast.

I never even saw it.

Then it hit. And it fucking hit HARD.

For the first time in my life, my heart shattered with so much force that the pain, the physical pain, was absolutely and utterly unbearable.

To be completely honest with you, I’m certain that someone else took over when it hit. I say this because I can’t tell you where it happened or how it happened.

I remember being blissfully ignorant and then the next thing I know I am in the girls’ bathroom, doubled over a commode, throwing my guts up with tears blurring my vision. And then, everything goes blank again.

Time both stands still and speeds past, blurring the rest of the school year into run-on days.

Michael has a new girlfriend within a week of our break up.

I do not try to hide my pain. I am selfless and have no energy left to hold on to. Not even a shred of pride or dignity.

I wear my depression like a cloak. If my eyes water with tears, I refuse to keep them in. Let them fall; I don’t care who sees them.

A darkness consumes me and I let it seep into my pores. I color my hair to match the color of my soul—Black.

This dark sadness causes my friends to dry up. I am utterly and completely alone.

I walk to my classes alone, trying very hard to avoid Michael and Rachel.

I can barely make it without him being next to me. When I am faced with him treating her just as he did me, the pain cuts into me so deep that, I swear to God, it feels like I am being gutted.

The first time I see them, the stabbing pain hurts so bad that it rips a sob clean from soul and out of my mouth.

I can thank an unlikely friend, a girl I spoke to maybe twice before. As soon as she sees my face while she is walking past me in the hall, she follows my line of vision to find what has placed the look of horror she sees. She immediately jumps into action and shoves me into the bathroom directly beside where I was standing. So when the sob comes, it only echoes off the walls of the girls’ bathroom.

Tiffany then gathers me up in an embrace and holds me while I cry, soaking her uniform top in tears and mascara. Once I settle down, she cleans my face and takes me to the office. She tells them that she found me sick in the bathroom and that my parents needed to be called.

By the end of the school year, I somehow manage to pull some of my shattered dignity up from around my feet—with my new friend Tiffany at my side, always cheering me on, and of course Lilly in my mind, promising me happiness once this Godforsaken year is over and I would never have to lay eyes on Michael again.

I somehow become a different type of popular; I have a whole league of friends. All from different walks of life, different races, male and female. None from the small popular kids circle. None from the
it
crowd.

I love my new friends. They freaking kick ass, even if I am the only one who thinks so.

By the last day of school, I am able to hold my head up high. Near the end of the school day, they let us out early to have a yearbook signing party. While yearbooks are being passed around like crazy, I am sitting in the middle of all my new friends when Tiffany hands me a yearbook.

She looks into my eyes with a serious face. “Lil, it’s his. Go over behind that building and give yourself a second. This is it. Say what you never got the chance to say, okay?”

I nod and stand up, making my way behind the building—the same building he took me behind during school dances. I find a stoop and sit down. I open up his yearbook, find a spot in the back, and write:

Dear Cage,

Thanks for all the fun times we shared. I will probably never forget them. And fuck you for all the pain you caused. I
will
never
forget that. Oh, and congrats for being the first to cut me so deep. I hope you had fun doing it. Good luck in high school. God knows it’s gotta be better than this shit.

Always ~Lillian

Later that night, I look through my yearbook. I’m just about to put it down and get ready for bed when I come across his handwriting scrawled on an odd page to sign.

I read:

Lil,

I am so sorry for the way things worked out. You are and will always be special to me. I will remember every smile you gave me, every single kiss, our late night phone calls, and every time you said, “I love you.” I did love you, Lil, with all my heart. And I always will. I would give anything to take away any pain I may have caused you. I hate that we left things the way we did in our ending. I’ll miss you. Now go kick ass in high school. Westwood doesn’t know what is about to hit them. Go get ’em babe.

Love Always~Michael

A
fter Michael’s chapter in my life closed, things started to get better. I’ll be damned—Lilly was right. The old adage “Out of sight, out of mind” held some truth.

My freshman year in high school was so damn uneventful that I can’t even remember it, so we’ll skip ahead to the summer of 1991.

I highlighted my hair back to its original blond, and because I stayed at the pool, my skin had a dark golden tan.

Did I mention my new rack? Thank you, puberty goddess, for blessing me with these DDs. I will forever be in your debt—or at least until I breast feed, but that’s for a different part of this story.

I should make an important side note here to explain that, after Michael, I swore to myself I would never look at a preppy guy again. Preppy guys didn’t make any damn sense.

And now I bring to you the beginning of my love for the Kurt Cobain wannabes.

Yep, grunge, my friends, was in full swing and had made its way down to my Southern state. No, there was no way in hell I would completely conform. I still wore my daisy dukes and half shirts, dammit. I had a tan I’d worked hard to get and I was going to show it off. Okay, end of side note.

I am babysitting for this lady on the other side of town. Although I am not sure why. You see, the little girl I babysit, Julie, has two older brothers. Within a week of babysitting Julie, I make friends with her older brother’s girlfriend, April. April is freaking crazy as hell. At eighteen, she was kicked out of her parents’ house and was living in her boyfriend’s room. Again, why in the hell am I babysitting?

The awesome part of this is that Allen gets to come with me. He’s best friends with the middle kid of the family. Jason is Allen’s age, and their house is smack dab in the middle of I would guess over one hundred acres of nothing but woods.

Allen in boy heaven.

During the first week, I hang out mostly with Allen and Jason, dragging Julie with us through the woods and down to the pond, everywhere we go.

However, she and I get bored with that quickly. So the following week, I give that up, and Julie and I stay indoors, watching movies or doing whatever she wants to do.

With April also sticking close to the house, either clicking through the channels like a mindless zombie or cooking some weird egg casserole that smells like ass in the kitchen, we easily make ground in becoming close friends. She tells me all the crazy shit that she, Josh, and Josh’s older cousin from California, Leo, did the previous weekend. I love listening to her stories.

April isn’t very pretty. Well mostly she just looks like, even at eighteen, she’s lived a hard life. She wears it on her face and unsuccessfully tries to conceal it with layers of makeup that end up only making it worse.

Josh and Leo always stop talking when I am around. They either stop mid-sentence or just carry their conversation outside while they smoke. Things stay this way for over a month.

When I finally feel comfortable enough, I ask April about it.

“Lil, I don’t know. They just don’t know you. They’re family and you’re like some outsider. And you’re practically a kid. Or that’s what they see you as anyway.”

Scoffing, I say, “I’m a kid? I’m not a kid. I’m the fucking babysitter. And I’m babysitting because those assholes can’t be trusted to watch a damn nine-year-old. Whatever, April. I don’t want in their stupid asshole club anyway. And I for damn sure don’t need or want their approval.”

Tossing me a pack of Marlboro Light 100’s, a lighter, and a smile, April says, “Yeah, Lil. Keep tellin’ yourself that, babe. Maybe you’ll believe it. You think I don’t see the way you get all flustered when Leo walks in the room?”

“Wait… April. What the fu…”

“Nuh uh, bitch. I see it. Fuck, he sees it. You scare the hell outta him, by the way.”

“April, there isn’t anything to see. He makes me nervous. Shit, they both make me nervous. They act like I either have the plague or I’m some damn narc.” I’m following behind her like a damn lost dog, trying to make her believe me. “And why the hell did you just throw a pack of cigarettes at me?”

“New plan, baby girl. I fuckin’ like your preppy, pretty, blonde ass. Fuck if I know why, other than you’re cool as shit and prob’ly the most nonjudgmental cheerleader I’ve ever met—”

I interrupt her mid sentence. “Bitch, I am in
no way
a cheerleader. Don’t let the blond hair and the chubby cheeks fool you. I’m more fucked up than a lot of people you know. I just learned to perfect my mask and keep my crazy reeled in.”

“Okay, okay. Bottom line is, Leo wants your ass, and by ass, I mean tail, and by tail I mean—”

“Okay, I hear what you’re saying, but I call bullshit though. Right here, right now—
BULLSHIT.
I just tossed my card on the table. Heads up.”

“Malibu Barbie, I’ll see your bullshit card and raise you this. Josh is in the shower, Julie is passed out with Pocahontas on TV, and the movie is only thirty minutes in. I suddenly feel dirty, and I should shower off this filthy life poker match we just played. Take the smokes outside, pack ’em, open ’em, then light yourself a smoke. If there is one thing Leo is drawn to, it’s the cherry…” She starts laughing to herself for a minute, and yes, I am confused as hell. Then she finishes her soapbox spiel. “Cherry of a cigarette. You know, the glow of the cigarette in the dark. Now go forth, young one.” She winks at me before heading in the direction of the bathroom.

Holy fucking shit! Am I completely surrounded by idiots and assholes? Or am I the one who’s lost my mind?

I make my way out to the front porch and do as I was instructed. Well I try to anyway. I smack the pack of cigarettes, which I now can say was the complete and utter back-asswards way. I open up the pack and light my first cigarette.

Yes, ya bunch of judgmental asses, do the math. Sixteen years old. Lillian Shaw begins smoking, and guess what… I freaking love it!

Here’s another little tidbit of info for you. April wasn’t bullshittin’. The glow of a cigarette really does draw Leo like a damn moth to a flame.

“What’s up, fucker? April not puttin’ out or is she still stuck up Lil’s ass talkin’ their girl shi…”

He stops moving toward the front porch right outside the line of light. I can barely make out his six foot three inch frame.

Laughing in a very new and very surprising throaty laugh, I respond, “Ah, I’ll answer question number one first. Then we’ll get to the others.” I take a deep drag off my Marlboro, and as the smoke pours from my mouth, I finish with, “Yes, April is indeed puttin’ out, as we speak actually. No, I don’t feel anything in my ass. However, I’d be happy to stand up and let you check that sitch out. And what exactly do you mean by the ‘girl shit’ we supposedly discuss?”

Walking onto the porch and sitting in the chair next me, Leo pulls out a cigarette and lights up. I glance to my right and feel my heart stutter at his absolutely breathtaking profile. Hooded eyes, high cheekbones that slash across his face. His nose is arrow straight and his strong damn jawline lies under the sexiest, softest bow lips I have ever seen. His long, straight, light blond hair falls out from behind his ears and curtains his face until he leans back. Inhaling the smoke from the cigarette still in his mouth, he raises both hands up to tuck his hair behind the most beautiful ears I have ever seen grace the side of a man’s head.

Fuck me. No, really! Please, for the love of Christ, fuck me and fuck this damn V card. NOW!

I watch in a trance as Leo pulls another drag off his cigarette then moves it away from his mouth.

Fuck, I love his mouth. I want to bite the hell out of it. I want to kiss his mouth until I can’t breathe anymore. I want to lick it, suck it. I want to fuck his mouth with mine.