Free Lovely Vicious by Sara Wolf Page B

reads or naps. We eat meals upstairs, since she can’t bring herself to go downstairs for more than a few minutes at a time. My own room starts to look weird and foreign when I walk in – like I’m a stranger in it. The cop outside helps. When she gets jumpy in the middle of the night, I point out her window to the cop car sitting under the streetlight, and she relaxes and manages to get some sleep. I don’t. I stay awake, listening for the sounds of the heavy footsteps. Waiting. Praying. Praying that the bastard comes in and gives me an excuse to slit his throat.
    I wait and I pray and I thank any god who’s listening. Nameless might’ve fucked me over, but he didn’t mess me up as much as that guy did to Mom. My thing is nothing compared to hers. It doesn’t even deserve to be called a thing in light of what happened to Mom. To what happens to women everywhere, every day.    
    I call the office at school and Mom tells them I’m sick when I’m not. She calls her work and uses all her sick days, but by Friday she’s improved enough to go in. Or so she says. I don’t believe her, but I try to. If I believe, maybe that’ll make it more real.
    Fridays at school are always good days, but today it’s just shitcake on a shitpie sandwich. Every part of me feels like I’m rotting from the inside out – I’ve gotten barely any sleep and I can’t focus on the work I have to catch up on. All I can think about is Mom – if she’s alright at work, if she’s coping okay, if she’ll remember to eat the lunch I made her. All thoughts of the war with Jack Hunter fly out the window. I’ve got no tactics, no urge to show him up. No nothing. I’m drained, and tired. And done.
    Kayla nervously approaches me at recess. She clears her throat and I sit up from my place on the grass.
    “Hi,” she starts.
    “Hey.”
    “What are you doing?”
    “Trying to get some sleep.”
    “Oh. Didn’t sleep well?”
    “For a couple nights,” I agree. “It’s just, you know. Insomnia crap. Typical wacky teenage circadian rhythms.”
    “You were absent.”
    “Yeah. I was sick.”
    “Oh.” She bites her lip and looks at her shoes before she blurts; “I’m really sorry. For what I said earlier this week. About you, and things. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
    “S’cool. I’ve been pretty mean to you too, lately.”
    “Nu-uh!”
    “I’ve been insensitive. About Jack, and how you like him. I’m sorry.”
    There’s a long quiet. She reaches out her hand.
    “Let’s start over? I’m Kayla Thermopolis.”
    I shake her hand. “Isis. Isis Blake.”
    “You’re really good at that history of the planet thing.”
    “World history.” I smile as she repeats our first exchange at Avery’s party. Speak of the horned red-guy with a trident - Avery walks in at that moment. Kayla clearly sees her, but unlike most times she doesn’t scurry away to Avery’s side. She stays in front of me, and keeps talking.
    “I’m…I’m having a party tonight. My parents are out of town, so. It’s just a little get-together. It’d be really awesome if could be there. There’ll be pretzels. And a piñata. You could even punch someone! But only if you really have to. Like, really really really have to. Like, if your life depends on it.” She thinks on that for a moment. “Actually, can you just not punch anyone there at all?”
    “I’ll try,” I laugh.
    “Okay! It starts at eight, so be there.”
    I glance at Avery, who’s glaring swords at me. Claymores. Axes .
    “Is Avery coming?” I ask. Kayla shrugs.
    “No. She said she had something to do.”
    “Are you sure you’re okay with her seeing me and you talking?”
    “I’m – I don’t know. She doesn’t like it, but I owe you an apology, so. She’s really awesome and stuff, but I’m not gonna let her stop me from being polite.”
    “Right. Cool. I’ll see you tonight, then.”
    Kayla rushes back to Avery’s side, and Avery rips into her with snapped, quick words and