Off the Charts

Chapter 5

Chapter 5
    Five hours. That's how long I have until mom gets home. And today is a Friday which means I have four hours until I have to get Loki off the bus. I gotta give him a call.
    Voicemail. Of course it would go to voicemail. He's in school. Ugh! I can't get him from the bus stop today. I can't leave the house, not until I'm almost fully healed. I'd be too embarrassed. I'd have no story. I already know that if I don't show up at school on Monday, that Celia will spread rumors. But if I do go then it'll be even worse.
    So it's decided.
    "Hey, uh," my voice breaks. "Loki, I can't get you off the bus today. Do you think you could walk the block by yourself? I'll watch you through the apartment window but I can't leave the house." That's when I burst into tears. "Call me when you get on the bus. I've had a long day." I choke out through the tears and hang up.
    Long day. That's an understatement. So I make myself a Nutella sandwich and binge eat. Then, I lay face down in my pillow and cry. And cry... and cry. I've lost track of time when my phone bursts to life, vibrating so hard that it slipped off my mirror dresser, followed by the picture of Celia and I at our preschool graduation. We were both holding the pretend diplomas that our teachers gave us. Our little caps and gowns slipping off our shoulders and heads.
    We were even opposites back then. When I had cut my brown hair to shoulder length and was still curly while Celia's blonde hair was down to her waist and straight. Now things have only slightly changed. My hair had lost most of its curl and I bleached the tips. Ombré. Plus I've been growing it out. Celia curls her hair every day. Still down to her butt, for sure, though her strawberry blonde is starting to (naturally) become more strawberry than blonde.
    The biggest difference isn't in our physical appearance, but in our social status. I miss having friends.
    The phone is still whirring. So I answer it expecting it to be Loki. But it's not him. I don't notice till I press the button.
    "Paisley? Is something wrong? You weren't in social studies for fourth period. And you weren't in science for sixth either." It's Noah. I wanna be nice, I really do but I'm fed up, tired and crabby. I wish he didn't call.
    "Look Noah, I-- I can't explain. Could you just... I don't know. Lose my number or something! I can't talk to you now. I have to wait for my brother to call." And I hang up just to find it vibrating out of my hand again.
    "Loki!" I shout into the phone.
    "Paisley? What's going on?" He asks me. He's concerned about me. A fifth grader concerned about his tenth grader sister. I love you Loki!
    "Loki, are you almost off the bus?"
    "Yeah we're coming to the stop now. Here gimme a second." I hear him saying goodbye to the bus driver. He's a good kid. I look out the window and see a skinny, spiky haired brunette speed walking home. Loki. I smile goofily out the window through my tears. He smiles back at me and waves his hand.
    A minute later he's bursting through the door to our little apartment and sees me sitting on the couch, waiting for him with Phoebe, obliviously, bouncing round the room. Loki stands there, still, while he takes in my cuts and bruises. He sits next to me and envelopes me in a hug and Phoebe jumps up onto the couch and licks my hand. And I cry again.
    "What happened to you?" Loki wonders.
    "I-- I got..." I can't tell him the truth. No way. I have to think of something fast. Or maybe I just have to tell him a story so fake that's it's noticeable. Then, he'll leave me alone. "I got mauled... by a grizzly bear."
    "Pey... I don't know what's up with you and if you don't wanna tell me then that's cool with me but--just... be careful." He sputters out. Loki understands me so well.
    "And Pey... Whatever's going on, tell mom. I know you think she's crazy and doesn't give a crap--"
    "Loki! You're not allowed to say that word!"
    "Please don't tell mom!" The apartment door creaks open revealing the hallway and mom steps in.
    "Don't tell mom what?" She puts down her bags and places her hands on her hips. "You know what? That's not important. Paisley, I got a call from school," all this and she still hasn't made eye contact or even looked at me yet. She's too busy. "Please tell me you have a good explanation for leaving." Then she turns to face me.
    "Oh my god!" Her voice catches in her throat. She gently runs her fingers across the swollen, purple, bruises that cover my arms. "My baby! What happened to you?" She cries.
    "Mom," I cry with her. "I got beat up at school. I can't go back there I just can't." I fall into her embrace and she turns to me. She wipes her tears and mine and smiles.
    "We need a vacation." she states and we all laugh. Phoebe crawls up onto the couch and curls up in my lap. Loki walks over and joins the family group hug. We're sitting here for what feels like forever when there's a knock at the door. Mom stands up to see who's there through the peep hole.
    The door opens and two burly police officers in uniform step into our home. Behind them is Loki's dad, Kevin Burnam, in a fancy, pressed suit. He has the biggest evil grin on and I get scared.
    "Mom, what's going on here?" I ask.
    "I wish I knew." she says. "Loki, can you get your sister an ice pack?" Loki walks toward the freezer. "Kevin why are you in my home?"
    "If you don't mind me asking," Kevin starts. "Paisley? Is it? Please, tell the kind policemen and I why you have multiple wounds." Kevin glances suspiciously at mom then back to me. I wanna know what he's talking about or why he needs to know about me. But then it occurs to me. He thinks mom's abusive! But I can't tell the cops about this. About what happened. I can't risk it. So I keep my mouth shut.
    "Paisley? Tell them." Mom's egging me on.
    "Why do you ask?" I wonder.
    Loki is walking down the hall when Kevin grabs his arm. Him and mom trying to figure out what's going.
    "Dad?!" Loki squeals.
    "Kevin!" Mom shrieks. "Why are you taking my son?!"
    "While you were at work yesterday, I called the police because of the fact that I want my son back. I told them about my suspicions that your motherhood is unhealthy to you, your daughter and my son. They arrived here immediately and searched your apartment." Kevin's just babbling and I'm trying to figure out what the point of this is. One of the two cops loosens their hold on me, but then the other makes up for the lost man-power by pulling both my arms around my back.
    The first officer pulls out a bag of white powder that looked like sugar but obviously, me being the observant teenager, I knew what it actually was.
    "Mom?" I searched her face for signs and she's completely shocked.
"That is not mine! I'm being framed!"
Finally, Loki rips it his hand from Kevin. The other policeman walks over to them and drapes Loki over his shoulder like he's a rag doll.
    Loki is "escorted" down the stairs to the cop car that's waiting for him. Mom and I follow. Loki's crying and I'm very close to it.
    "Where are you taking him?" I ask. Kevin answers me.
    "I'm taking Loki home." And then, I cry.