Blood on My Hands

more orange juice.
    I was looking in the refrigerator when I felt someone behind me. It was Dakota, holding what looked like a screwdriver in her hand. Smiling, she said, “Looking for the orange juice?”
    I nodded. “Can’t find any.”
    Dakota pressed in beside me and peered into the fridge. She pulled out a bottle of cranberry juice. “This will work.”
    She poured some into our glasses and we raised them. “To summer, and no more school,” she toasted.
    I didn’t think she’d meant it maliciously, but I felt like I’d been punched in the stomach. I was dreading the end of school and the summer without Slade. Not wanting to think about that right then, I took a big gulp of my drink, even though it still tasted way too strong.
    Dakota took a sip and asked, “Heard from Slade?”
    I started to explain about the no-phone-calls rule and suddenly burst into tears. I’m sure it must have caught her by surprise, because I’m the last person anyone would accuse of being a drama queen. Dakota put her arms around me, and the next thing I knew, I was bawling on her shoulder.
    “I’m sorry.” I sniffed, embarrassed.
    “No, I’m the one who should be sorry,” she said. “It was a stupid thing to ask. I wasn’t thinking.”
    When I calmed down, I went looking for a bathroom to wash my face. The downstairs bathroom was being used, so I went upstairs; only the vodka made me dizzy and I wasn’t sure which door led to the bathroom. The first one I tried was a bedroom and Jodie and Zelda were inside. They were sitting on the bed with their faces close, and when I walked in, they jumped apart and both turned red, making me wonder if they’d been talking about something they didn’t want me to hear.
    I apologized for barging in, then found the bathroom and washed up. When I walked back out, the door to the bedroom was open and Jodie and Zelda were gone. Still feeling dizzy, I went downstairs and outside to get some fresh air. Alex’s parents had white wicker furniture on the porch and I sat in a wicker love seat. The air was cool and springlike, and pretty soon things stopped spinning and I began feel better. Then the front door opened and Katherine came out. “Want some company?” she asked, sounding sweet and concerned.
    “Sure.”
    She sat down beside me in the love seat. “How are you feeling?”
    “A little better, thanks,” I said.
    Katherine moved close and put her arm around my shoulders. She’d never done anything like that before. “You really love him.”
    “I think so.”
    “You just think so?” she asked.
    “No, no, I mean yes, I really do.”
    “It’s amazing, you know?” Katherine said.
    “What is?”
    “Just that you can be so sure. I mean, like, at our age. And you are sure, aren’t you?”
    It was strange how she always seemed to know what was on my mind. “I don’t know,” I admitted. “I mean, yes, I’m sure I love him, but I’m not sure what I’ll do if he gets sent overseas for a long time. I won’t be seventeen until almost July. It feels too young to have to wait so long.”
    “I can imagine.”
    I turned and looked at her. “You can? Really?”
    Katherine nodded sympathetically and hooked her light brown hair behind her ear. She was wearing ear knots with little green whales. “Sure. Like you said, we’re sixteen. How can we really know what we want?”
    I looked into her eyes, which that night were unexpectedly kind and caring. “Can I tell you a secret?”
    She nodded.
    “Sometimes I feel like I need Slade more than I want him. Like we’ve been together for so long that I’m afraid of what life would be like without him.”
    Katherine squeezed my shoulder. “I think you’d be fine.”
    The front door opened and Dakota came out. When she saw Katherine and me, she stopped and stared, then spun around and went back inside, slamming the door so hard behind her I thought the glass might break. Beside me, Katherine sighed loudly, then said, “Sorry, I have to go.”

Chapter 14
    Sunday 4:37 P.M.
    I KNOW THE yearbook photo Slade was talking about. In it I’ve got shoulder-length blonde hair and a bright smile. A lot of that hair is now at the bottom of a brown paper bag, and what’s left on my head is jet-black and spiky. I’m wearing enough black eye makeup to pass for a raccoon, and I dyed and plucked my eyebrows until they were thin black slivers to go with my black lips and nails. Topping it all off is a thick, abstract Sharpie tattoo on the side