Chapter 43
HENLEY HOUSE
“I’ll tell you one thing, George Ramos has no idea what’s about to hit him.”
The dinner table trembles as Dad slaps his hand down next to his plate. He’s flushed, the red of his scalp peeking through his sparse blond hair. Mom makes a show of steadying her water glass.
We don’t usually eat as a family on Mondays, but tonight Mom surprised us with—guess what?
—boneless, skinless chicken breasts and a side of undressed salad.
It’s become clear, though, that more than anything else this is a war meeting.
Dad’s called a second lawyer—this one a specialist in civil suits—and has been making a list of the people he could sue.
“That man’s been cock of the walk around here for twenty years, he’s got everything set up real nice for himself, but he is in for a rude awakening,” Dad says, sawing at his chicken. “Got half a mind to take in the principal too. What’s her name, Subramanian? What kind of name is that, even?”
“Jesus, Dad,” I mutter. “Can we dial the racism to a dull roar?”
I stay as low as I can in my chair without attracting a comment about my posture, picking at the corner of a chicken breast with my fork. I guess it’s good that my parents are finally standing up for me. I wish they’d done a better job of it before the damage was done, though.
“Let’s not go too crazy, Mark.” Mom purses her lips. She had her hair touched up today, her nails done in bright blood red. She always hits the salon when she’s feeling like a fight.
“Too crazy? These people made it look like our daughter was some kind of…” Dad trails off and glances at me. “I think we’re justified in seeking some compensation.”
“I’m just saying, Iris has had her name dragged through the mud enough already. I agree that we should look for some recourse, but I don’t know if it’s a good idea to attract more attention to ourselves,” Mom says.
Across from me, Noelle sits still and silent, picking at her food. She glances up at me with a sympathetic grimace.
“Oh come on, Carrie, this could pay for her whole college career,” Dad says. He looks borderline delighted. “You know who else we should sue is Laura Fisher.”
Hearing that surname sends a hollow pain through my body, like a pebble dropped in an empty well. It rings around inside me, an echo of something else.
Mom gives him an appalled look. “You are out of your mind. We’ve lived next door to Laura for twelve years.”
“Yeah, and look what it got us?” He gestures toward me with his fork. “Our daughter was cyberbullied. Our whole family was maligned. And she didn’t do a damn thing to stop it.”
“Laura and I are on the Pioneer Days board together, Mark. And she’s in my book club.”
“You were on the Pioneer Days board together.” Dad smirks. “I doubt anyone’s going to want her serving on any committees or boards or anything after this. That boy was hacking under her own nose, in her own home, and she didn’t do anything to stop it!”
I can tell by the way he says the word “hacking” he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.
I think about Max’s mom. I guess she hasn’t paid much attention in the last few years.
She didn’t seem to understand just what kind of person he’d become, anyway.
But how is that so different from my parents, or Rocky’s, or Lynette’s?
It’s not like any of them have been there to help.
It’s not like any of them want to know what’s really going on.
Mom sets down her fork and sighs. “Look, this whole mess has already gutted Iris’s senior year.
She missed out on homecoming court, her cheer season is upside down, and I don’t even know what her grades look like.
Things are finally getting back to normal.
I just don’t want to rock the boat too much. ”
I stand up from the table. “Stop it,” I say.
Everyone looks up at me in surprise, even Noelle. For a second I don’t know what to say. No, that’s not right—I just don’t know how to say it. Then I just start talking.
“Just, stop it. Stop pretending you care that something awful happened to me. You want to sue, go ahead, but I’m not going to help you.
I don’t want to testify and I don’t want to be involved.
” I take a deep breath and meet my mom’s eyes.
“And I’ve got news for you, Mom. I don’t want to get back to normal. Normal sucked.”
I turn away from the table to leave the room. At the door to the dining room, though, I turn back to look at them. “Oh, and I quit cheerleading today,” I say. “So don’t worry about that part.”
I can hear Mom and Dad both sputtering behind me, but I don’t stay to listen.
I grab my backpack and head out the front door.
I’m going to hear about it later, but right now I don’t care.
Normal. Normal was what led to everyone in the school talking shit about Lynette while she lost herself to addiction.
Normal was letting Rocky turn into a monster.
Normal was smiling and pretending we could stay unscathed after the worst had happened. Normal was bullshit.
Outside, I can see the black square that is Max’s bedroom window. It’d always been a friendly beacon beyond my house. Now it feels like a dead, sightless eye. I turn my back on both my house and Max’s and walk away.