Nowhere's Daughter

I admired my silly doodles on the package I held, hoping Kayla noticed the interactions between Tels and Claykun (two characters created for books we wanted to write). I’d worked hard on the art, and though straight lines were beyond me, I thought it was a passable job.

But to be safe, I retrieved the silver pen I kept behind my ear and labeled Tels and Claykun. When done, the pen returned to its usual place, and I crossed the crowded Rod and Gun Club floor to where Kayla chatted with Jade and Lori.

Kayla’s back was to me, and a wicked urge struck me. I shimmied up behind my best friend, leaned over her shoulder, and cried, ”Allon-sy!”

She let out a terrified shriek and spun around. Her small-featured face was tinged a tomato red, and her slanted golden-brown eyes were as large as my man-hands. I giggled, and Lori and Jade joined in.

“What. The. Hell?” Kayla sucked in air as she clutched her chest. “Why the heart attack?”

I poked her soft middle. “Because I can.”

Kayla stuck out her tongue, though her skin had faded back to its lovely light tan color. Her breathing was still uneven. “You suck.”

I batted my eyelashes. “Doesn’t stop you from adoring me.”

“Like a diabetic adores an insulin coma.”

I chuckled harder, and Kayla cracked a smile.

Jade looked between us. “So, no chance for murder?”

Kayla shrugged. “Give it a few minutes.”

Lori shook her head, making her loose brunette curls bounce. “No time for that. My tummy’s rumbling!”

“Mine, too,” Jade said, rubbing her stomach.

Kayla gestured to the food table across the room. “Have at it.”

That was all Jade and Lori needed to depart. They didn’t even look our way as they shuffled toward snacks.

Once they were gone, Kayla asked, “What are you holding?”

“Here.” I muscled the decorated-computer-paper-wrapped present into her hands. “Open it but be careful. Don’t rip Claykun’s face!”

Kayla studied my handiwork, and one of her unruly black eyebrows rose. “Why are they both in the same dress?”

“Tels wanted to see if they’d both fit.”

Another smile tugged at Kayla’s thin lips. “Somehow they did.”

“Much to Tels’s delight.”

Kayla shook her head and slipped her long fingers under a fold in the paper. She pulled until the tape holding it in place came undone. She removed the book and read the title.

“Oh, Mo.” Her eyes brimmed with tears. “I can’t believe you did this.”

My mouth puckered with my confusion. Kayla was more grateful than I had expected. No, scratch that, she was agonizingly touched by my gift. This wasn’t like her. Why the extreme reaction?

I studied the person I considered a second sister. Oh, okay. Wait. Kayla’s expression showed mostly sadness, not gratitude. The book hadn’t done that to her. I’d bet every manga in my possession that she wasn’t even thinking about my gift right now.

So, what could have—her dad? Had he—?

I searched for him in the room but didn’t see him. That meant the worst, didn’t it?

However, I hoped I was mistaken. What dad wouldn’t attend his daughter’s graduation party just because he was in the process of divorcing her mother? Mr. Holm wasn’t that big of a douchebag, was he?

The man had always given me the side-eye when I spent time at their house, and I know he tried discouraging Kayla befriending me at the beginning. He’d thrown a fit when Mrs. Holm had gotten the hospital administration position in another city, all because it meant that she couldn’t make dinner every night due to the longer commute. After he berated my ninth-grade history teacher, Ms. Kessa, for giving Kayla a B+ on her end-of-the-year project, Ms. Kessa had had to take off the rest of the school year for her mental health.

If things weren’t exactly to his liking, he always had a comment and often blurted it in the worst, most hurtful way possible. He always had to be right. Mr. Holm was the husband and dad of my nightmares.

But he could put all his terrible traits aside for one hour, right? He could pretend to be supportive of his one, and only, child, couldn’t he?

“Kayla?”

Kayla looked at me. She realized I saw her oncoming meltdown and bowed her head, making her short black hair a curtain between us. “This is so nice,” she whispered. Despite all her efforts to hide her sorrow, her voice shook.

I chewed my left cheek. Yep. Kayla’s dad was the epic prick everyone knew and wanted to stab. Yet, I couldn’t say that, as true as it was. No way was I going to make Kayla feel even worse than she already did.

“I know it broke your heart that Odin ate your copy, so when I spotted the book at the mall, I got it,” I replied.

Kayla snuffled and rubbed her eyes. “But I got you nothing.”

To better ignore her struggle for composure (and act like I didn’t notice), I counted how many people celebrated our high school graduation. Forty-some bodies filled the room. There should have been twice as many, but most of Mr. Holm’s side had boycotted the event. They weren’t mature enough to deal with whatever Mrs. Holm’s relatives might say about Kayla’s dad’s infidelity. Or maybe he’d lied about not being the cause of the breakdown of their marriage, and his family was stupid enough to believe him.

“I didn’t buy it intending to receive things,” I told her when the awkward silence grew unbearable. “You can’t go to college without Empire.”

“But that shouldn’t—you’re right.” Kayla latched on to a pinch of her sentimental aloofness and swallowed her melancholy. She straightened and flashed me a grin resembling a grimace. “Thanks, Mo.”

“Make sure Odin doesn’t destroy this one.”

I forced a laugh, and my stomach flipped like I’d eaten too much ice cream. I should have done more to comfort her, but Kayla would have run to the bathroom if I’d tried. Or gotten mad and glared at me until I stopped talking.

Should that have stopped me, though? Regardless of her frustration with me, it was my duty as her best friend to do what needed to be done, right? Was I acting cowardly or respectfully?

All the questions swirling in my head triggered a headache. I massaged my temples, begging the monster to hide. Caffeine would do the trick instantly, especially the carbonated variety, but I couldn’t give in, not if I wanted to shrink my stubborn love handles. My will must be stronger than soda’s siren song.

My headache eased, and I breathed easier.

While I was coaxing a headache into submission, Kayla stuffed away her misery. She gestured to the blue and gold decorations covering the room. “I like what your sister did.”

I nodded. “Yeah, it’s nice.” A bit much, but nice.

“I wanted to talk about—” Kayla’s focus shifted away from me, and her mood darkened. “Oh, great.”

I turned to see what had soured Kayla’s temper and inwardly groaned. My ex-girlfriend, and Kayla’s archenemy, was sauntering through the crowd, heading toward us. I gulped when her eyes met mine.

Violet gave me an incredible smile and increased her pace. “Hey, hon!"

The next moment, she invaded my personal bubble and kissed me on both cheeks. Her hands snaked around my back and brushed the top of my ass as she embraced me.

Untangling myself from her warm, inviting arms wasn’t as easy as it should have been. “Hi, Violet.”

Deep down, I loathed myself for still wanting her. In a perfect world, I wouldn’t have to fight the compulsion to plant my lips on her dark red ones and touch every one of her curves. She’d screwed my heart over in the worst way, and if I had a functioning brain, nothing would ever make me forget that.

Often, I tried granting myself grace by reminding myself that we’d only split five months ago. Surely, that hadn’t been long enough to kill the passion we shared for eighteen months. Caring for her wasn’t a switch I could just flick to the ‘off’ position.

However, being unaffected by her may have been an easier task if I didn’t try to remain friends with her. At first, it’d seemed the easiest path, but lately I’d been thinking it was an overall dumb decision.

Violet grinned at Kayla, her peachy skin aglow with mocking humor. “Great party, huh?”

“Not now, Violet,” I said.

Violet pouted, her attention still on my best friend. “Oh, why not?”

“We don’t want to talk to you,” Kayla said.

Violet smirked. “You speak for the both of you?”

Kayla gazed at me. “Mo?”

I didn’t reply.

“Well, I’m not sticking around to listen to a fake bitch,” Kayla said after a long minute.

She walked five feet away from us, stopped, and waited a second to see if I would join her. When I didn’t make a move, Kayla sulked away.

Violet watched Kayla leave with spiteful glee. “Well, someone’s not very cheery today.”

“She has her reasons.”

“That no one cares about.” Before I responded, Violet swept some of my hair from my face and rested her fingertips against my neck. “I like the color you’ve dyed your hair. Strawberry blonde suits you, and your dress is amazing." She leaned close. “Ramona, you’re breathtaking.”

Her flirting game sucked, yet I blushed. Hating myself, I hoped for more.

I shrugged like my palms weren’t sweating, or like my heart and common sense weren’t waging a war I foolishly believed was settled every time I was alone, but that started again in Violet’s presence. What was this power she had?

“I… um, thanks,” I said with an adequate amount of competence.

Violet trailed her fingers down my arm. When they reached my hand, she grasped it. “I’ve missed you.” Then came one of her sexiest smiles. “How about we have a little fun? For old times’ sake?”

Her words stung like a wet towel snapped across my back, and my sinuses burned. If you hadn’t been a cheating slut, there wouldn’t be an ‘old times’ sake’, I wished I had the courage to say. Maybe if I knocked that smug look off her face, she’d express genuine remorse for what she did to me.

She was my first love. I’d suffered daily because I believed Violet Lamper was my soulmate. What had come of it in the end?

A broken heart and unbearable self-esteem issues.

“It’s almost time for cake,” was my reply.

Yep, my inner voice said as I held back my tears. You’re pathetic. You deserve everything you get.

“Can’t it wait?” Violet lost some of her charm as her tone grew unstable.

“Ramona! Kayla!” Dad’s voice shouted over the noisy room. “Come here.”

“Your cake,” Kayla’s mom added.

I turned to see the pair standing at one end of the food table. The dishes were pushed back to make space for a large pale pink box. My face broke into a smile, and I sent a silent prayer of thanks to God.

“I have to go,” I called to Violet as I raced to my freedom.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Kayla slip away from the crowd. She fell in step beside me. Kayla kept her attention ahead, determined to make me regret choosing Violet over her.

Wasn’t it obvious I did?

Mrs. Holm pointed at the spot between her and Dad. “Here, girls.”

Kayla and I slid into the space beside our parents. Dad squeezed my shoulder just before Mrs. Holm threw back the lid to the box. Kayla and I spied inside, and we gasped.

The cake was divided in half. A zombie rising from its grave in a deserted cemetery with ‘Congratulations, Kayla!’ sprawled across the tombstone that covered the left side. The right picture was a hand-painted image of L from Death Note on a chair, curled into his uncomfortable sitting position. An open Death Note was in his lap, reading, ‘Congratulations, Ramona Beish. 1:30 p.m.’.

Kayla and I turned towards each other and squealed.

Mrs. Holm laughed. “I think they like it.”

“They had better.” Dad tweaked my nose. “No expense was spared.”

“It’s awesome!” I said.

I flung my arms around Dad and gave him a tight hug, which he returned with a bone-crushing grip. I didn’t mind that it was suddenly hard to breathe. It wasn’t important. I had Dad all to myself in that moment.

“How much was it?”

Kayla’s words captured my attention, and I left Dad’s embrace to investigate.

“That’s not your business,” Mrs. Holm told Kayla. Her face turned cherry red as her cardboard-brown eyes flitted about the room.

A few guests peeked our way, curious about cake, but no one had heard the conversation. That didn’t stop Mrs. Holm’s mouth from creasing with embarrassment.

“Where did you get the money?” Kayla asked, her voice raised a few octaves.

My eyes widened. Kayla was so rude to her mom. Didn’t she care that her mom looked like she wanted to stick her head through the wooden floor to escape this confrontation?

“Kayla, I have money.”

“Hundreds to throw at a cake and this party?”

“Does it matter? Everyone’s enjoying themselves.”

“I bet the cake is delicious, too,” I muttered.

Kayla pretended I hadn’t spoken. “Mom, where did the money come from?”

“Kayla, it was only right he helped,” Mrs. Holm whispered.

“That asshole bought this?”

The entire room quieted, no longer able to avoid the confrontation between mother and daughter.

Mrs. Holm’s face drained of blood, and she got that wretched deer-in-the-headlights expression that twisted my insides.

Dad tapped Kayla’s arm. “This is better discussed in the kitchen.”

She jerked away from him and moved closer to her mom. “I can’t believe you’d let him do that. Don’t you have any self-respect?”

Mrs. Holm shoved her hands to her face. “Kayla!”

“This—you—ah!” Kayla ran out the door that led outside and disappeared into the surrounding woods.

Everyone gawked. Violet was among them. The elation dancing in her neon green eyes sickened me.

Turning from her, I looked at Kayla’s mom. The small woman heaved, drowning in her sadness. My stomach twisted. She shouldn’t be on display.

I didn’t know how to rescue her, but I elbowed Dad’s side. He knew how to handle this.

Dad coughed. “Er, Jillian?”

Mrs. Holm didn’t respond, but that didn’t stop Dad from wrapping an arm around her shoulders. He guided her to the women’s bathroom.

The pair vanished from sight, and the awkward tension left in their wake almost ended the celebration. Many people glanced around, no doubt searching for their coats and purses. If everyone left, the day would get even worse for Kayla and her mom. But how did I stop them?

“The cake wasn’t bought for the flies,” a voice said, cutting through the hush. Its low pitch matched the tall scarecrow that stepped out of the crowd.

I held back a groan as Dad’s leech—oh, I meant fiancée—Patty approached the table. She picked up the knife beside the cake box. Patty carved it into the center of the cake.

“I didn’t get a picture,” I grumbled.

Patty didn’t stop dividing the cake into little slivers. “Oops,” she said as she finished and put the pieces on plates. She handed me one with a fork nestled on the side. The cake piece was L’s head.

I stared at it, decided Patty’s happiness didn’t benefit me, and walked over to one of my younger cousins. I gave him the cake.

“Thank you,” he chirped.

Patty watched this with pursed lips and furrowed eyebrows. I met her boring beige gaze with a dark one of my own. Patty flinched before returning to divvying out the cake.

The party turned more festive as people filled with sugar. The talk grew from a low rumble to a pleasant roar, but I was desperate for air.

I weaved across the room to the door Kayla had used. Outside, I fled into the woods. It wasn’t very long before I stumbled upon Kayla. She sat against a tall tree with her legs pressed to her chest and arms wrapped around them.

I plopped down next to her, frowning when I felt the drenched ground from last night’s rainstorm. My dress was snow white. And linen.

Oh well, I didn’t like it anyway. I wore it because Dad wanted to please Patty.

“Is my mom okay?”

“She’ll be all right once she calms down.”

“I can’t believe I did that.”

I couldn’t either.

Sure, there were times when Kayla’s anger overwhelmed her and she ran her mouth, but she never acted that way with her mom. Mrs. Holm and her daughter were close. They were best friends, and not in the Kayla-did-whatever-she-wanted-and-Mrs.-Holm-would-one-day-steal-Kayla’s-boyfriend kind of way. No, with her mom, Kayla had someone she could always turn to.

Did Kayla know how lucky she was or how I envied her sometimes?

“You’re both going through a lot.”

Though true, I didn’t believe it justified her actions.

Yes, Miss High-and-Mighty, my inner voice jabbed. Cast the first stone. You’ve never said anything horrible to your parents when pissed off. You’re perfect, right?

I didn’t answer (I’d read that it wasn’t healthy), but the brash honesty made me nod. I was unfair to Kayla. Her family faced a devastating situation. If Kayla was more on edge than usual, what difference did it make? She could be worse off.

Kayla sighed. “Yeah.”

I had the sense to change the topic. “So, this morning I woke up with a billion ideas for my book.” I didn’t fake the excitement in my voice.

“Awesome.”

I didn’t let her lackluster intonation deter me. “I can’t work through them by myself. Why don’t you come over tonight and help me? Dad made his spaghetti yesterday, and I saved you a giant bowl.”

Kayla finally looked at me. She was red, her face damp, and her stare reminded me of one of those dogs in the gut-wrenching ASPCA commercials. Her lips had grown chapped. “I can’t.”

I wrestled lip balm out of the tiny pocket sewn into my dress and held it out to her. “Why not?”

She took the tube. “My Aunt Lola, the rich one with all the fish?” She applied the lip balm and returned it.

“Uh huh.”

“She just told me today she’s taking me to Costa Rica as a graduation gift. I’m going to be gone for over three weeks.”

“When do you leave?”

“Tomorrow night.”

In my head, I counted off the days. My stomach dropped to my toes. “That leaves only about a day until you go to college when you get back.”

“More like a week, maybe.” Kayla frowned. “I’ll barely have time to pack.”

“So, we won’t hang out before you leave?”

“I’m going to try, but it looks that way.”

This was too soon. I’d intended to spend every moment with her this summer until I got sick of her, so that being apart wouldn’t be as painful.

Unprepared for this abruptness, my eyes watered. What would I do without her?

“Oh, Mo, don’t worry.” Kayla held my hand. “I’ll only be an hour away. I’ll come home on the weekends. I’ll have many breaks, too, which will be with you. Plus, I’ll call you every day.”

“I’m going to miss you.”

“Don’t you say goodbye now.” Kayla’s smile was real and beautiful. “I promise we’ll have a proper farewell.”

I sniffled. “Okay.”

Kayla squeezed my fingers and leaned against the tree while I wrestled for control, despite having little to work with. I was miserable, and it would only intensify from here. Kayla couldn’t know, though. She had enough on her plate.

I mustered a semi-happy expression and pulled my cell phone out of my cleavage. I found the music player on the phone, hit the random button, and maxed the volume. As I placed it on my knee, I caught Kayla’s eye.

“I hope it plays something good,” she said.

“Fingers crossed.”

I hit ’PLAY.’ The jolly techno beats of Toy Box thundered around us. I leaned against Kayla and closed my eyes.