Page 14 of Brave
“I thought yesterday was visiting day.” Careful to keep her voice light and cheerful, her mother’s hand visibly trembled as she circled the table, laying identical plates of sandwich, chips, and grapes in front of Puppy first and then Pony.
“I want to go to Master,” Pony said again, glaring.
Puppy stared at her sandwich. Chicken salad, which her mother always did well and which used to be her favorite back when she was a kid. The crusts had been cut away and the sandwich cut in half. Because, apparently, she couldn’t handle a whole sandwich any more than she could handle any other part of her life.
Her stomach rolled and growled, hunger warring with nerves until she didn’t dare take so much as the smallest bite for fear she’d lose what few sips of milk she’d already had.
“I want to look for a job,” she said, sweaty palms pressing hot against her denim-clad thighs as she raised her head to return Pony’s stare. She would not be going to visit Ethen.
Blinking twice, a touch of moisture crept into Pony’s eyes. The accusation died on her face and desperation grew up quickly to take its place.
“A job?” her mother echoed, her face lighting up with all the delight that her voice tried but failed to emulate. “Well, won’t that be nice. You can do it, honey. Y-you… you know you can do anything, right?”
Patting Puppy’s shoulder, she went back into the kitchen to clean up what little mess she’d made. The shimmer in Pony’s eyes grew even more watery, while in the kitchen, the soft clatter of dishes gave way to sniffles. The water at the sink turned on to help mask the sound as her mother broke down and cried.
Very softly, Pony said, “I want to go to Master.”
Yes, but only to tell on her.
Crawling in guilt and growing angry now because of it, Puppy just as softly replied, “Then go.”
Face crumpling, Pony whispered, “Come with me.”
“No.” The last thing she wanted today was to be stuck standing in front of Ethen while he questioned her. What right did he have to judge her at all, after everything he’d done? But he would, and she had no desire to hear his decision on how she should be punished—first for leaving her bed, and then again because she already knew no way in hell was she going to confess where she’d actually been.
“Please!” Pony hissed, crying openly now.
“No.” Leaning over her plate, Puppy spat, “Don’t go! Just don’t go! You don’t want to see him any more than I do. How could you?”
Jaw snapping open in shock, Pony was just as quick to lash back. “I’d be in there with him if I could! You’re just as disloyal as they are!”
Jumping up from her seat, back stiff and straight, Pony stalked back down the hall. Menagerie girls didn’t run. They didn’t slam doors either, and Pony was nothing if not well-behaved. Their bedroom door shut so softly that Puppy had to strain just to hear it. It made the knots in her stomach pull that much tighter. She strangled, first on them and then on the guilt that only prickled her harder when, in the kitchen, the water shut off and her sniffling mother retreated down the hall to her room too.
The very air turned suffocating as she sat hunched at the table, her hands clasped tight and still shaking, and too upset to eat. She never should have got out of bed last night, but it was hard to regret that decision when she’d happily be in her car right now (if only she still had one) and speeding her way back to Black Light just to be away from here.
Guilt churned in her gut, over and over.
She was so tired of feeling guilty all the time.
She was even more tired of feeling useless.
Shoving her chair back, she got up and strode down the hall. Halfway there, her nerve wavered and her determination collapsed. By the time she reached it, she stood in front of her own bedroom door feeling as if she were about to walk into the enemy’s lair, except the enemy in this case was the only person in the world that she considered to still be her friend. They’d gone through hell together.
In many ways, they were both still there.
Steeling herself, she went inside.
Pony wasn’t crying anymore, although she was still holding a wad of wet tissue in her lap. Sitting on the edge of her cot with shoulders hunched, she didn’t look up when Puppy came in. She just wadded and unwadded the crumpled tissue, folding it to find a clean spot before dabbing at the corners of her eyes. A little mascara came off every time she did it, but her makeup remained practically flawless.
“Please don’t make me go alone,” Pony said softly, still not looking up, not even when Puppy sank down to sit on the edge of her bed across from her. “I don’t want to have to go alone.”
“You don’t have to go at all.”
Raising her head, Pony stared at her in forlorn dismay. “I love him. Don’t you remember how that felt? Don’t you, in some small part of you, still love him too?”
The knots inside her were growing, expanding their strangling range all the way up into her throat. To be honest, all she felt when she thought about Ethen was anger—over all the promises he’d made… and broken; over the things he’d done, to the others as much as to her. Yes, once upon a time she’d loved him, and yes, if she let herself think about it, she not only knew what that felt like, but she sometimes could feel it still.
She turned her head away so she wouldn’t have to think about it. She tried instead to think about doing something that might get her out of here and away from her mother, Pony, and Ethen. Like walking to the library and reserving time on the computers so she could job hunt online. This time, she wasn’t going to let her anxieties rule over her. She’d get up every single day and she’d go to work, in clean clothes that she picked out herself and which weren’t pink. She wouldn’t let herself get overwhelmed when her job required that she talk to people. For a change, she would be strong. She wouldn’t fall apart, or hate every second that she was there, or walk off the job just because she couldn’t bear that everyone was staring at her because she was shaking, and scared, and strange.
