Prowl. Part 15

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I knew it was only a matter of time before he came back. I sat on my bed in the dark, my legs bent against my chest.

"It's about time," I said bitterly when he appeared.

"Nice to see you too, Kenzie." Wesley sat on the edge of my bed.

"Why'd you do it?"

"She deserved it."



I groaned in frustration, and put my head in my hands. Everything was spiraling out of control.

"I'm just protecting you."

"Protecting me? By attacking my friend?"

"Some friend."

"You hurt her, Wesley."

"She was telling lies about me."

"Who cares?"

"I care. I care what you think of me."

His words caught me off guard. Could it be that he really did this because he cared about our relations.h.i.+p?

"I haven't always been there for you, Kenzie. I want to make up for that."

I softened. "I appreciate that, really I do."

"Rhiannon's not a good friend to you. She's trying to poison you against me."

"I understand why you were upset. But I don't need you to beat people up for me, okay?"

"I'll work on it."

Satisfied with his response, I nodded. So what if he lost his temper? I knew he only thought he was helping me. Honestly, I was touched by how much he cared.

"You coming to church this morning?" Grandma asked.

"No." I sat on the couch, flipping through a magazine. Sunlight streamed in through the window, painting yellow stripes on my legs.

"Why not?"

"It's just not my thing, okay?"

"I thought you liked it."

"Well, I don't."

Grandma sat next to me, a worried look etched on her face. She smelled like detergent and flowers. "What's going on with you, Kenzie?"

"Nothing. I just don't want to go. Why is it such a big deal?"

"It's not just that. You've been acting strange for a couple of weeks now and then there was that whole thing with Rhiannon last night."

"I told you that wasn't my fault. What? You don't believe me?"

She bit her lip and her coral lipstick stained the bottom of her teeth.

I shook my head in frustration. "See, I knew it. Wesley was right. n.o.body else believes in me."

Grandma c.o.c.ked her head to one side. "Who's Wesley?"

"He's my dad," I answered without thinking. Then I clamped my mouth shut, mentally cursing myself.

"Your dad? Kenzie what are you talking about?"

"Nothing. That's not what I meant. Wesley's no one. Just a friend."

Grandma put her hand over my trembling one. "Look, you can tell me anything. You know that, right?"

"Yeah."

"I'm here for you if you ever want to talk."

I nodded. "You better get going. Don't want to be late for church."

"I can stay if you want."

"No, I'm fine."

She shot me one last worried glance before walking out the door.

"Wow, I thought she'd never leave."

I gasped, startled by Wesley's appearance. I didn't know when I'd ever be used to him doing that. The room darkened.

"I told you all those Christians are the same. They only care about one thing and that's getting people saved. If you're not, they think something's wrong with you. They're the most intolerant, hypocritical people in the whole world."

I bristled at the comment. "Well, I'm sure that's not true of all of them."

Wesley chuckled. "Why? You think that boyfriend of yours is any different. Tell me, where's the first place he ever took you?"

"Sutter Street."

"Okay, after that."

"Miniature golfing."

"With?"

I sighed. "His youth group."

"Bingo. You should've listened to that Brooke girl. She knew what she was talking about."

"He said she was just jealous."

"Oh please. She was telling you the truth. All that guy cares about is getting you saved. "

Angry, I stood. "I don't have to listen to this."

"So, you think he loves you no matter what, is that it?"

I turned to him, putting my hands on my hip. "Yes, actually."

He approached me, his lips curling in an evil smile. "Think he'll still love you when he sees these?" He pointed to my scars.

I hugged myself, covering the scars with my fingers. Shame burned through me.

"Or what about when he finds out about me? Think he'll love you then?"

No.

I bit my lip and stared hard at my feet.

"That's what I thought. Christians judge people like you and me. If he knew you were a cutter he'd want you to stop, to be perfect like he thinks he is. But there's nothing wrong with cutting."

My head snapped up at that. "What?"

"Yeah, if it makes you feel better I say do it." He shrugged. "You should do whatever you want. That's what life's all about."

I stood in front of the mirror, running the brush through my hair. My eyes were bloodshot and ringed with blue circles. I hadn't been sleeping well. After fis.h.i.+ng through my makeup bag, I retrieved some concealer and Visine. Using both succeeded in making me look a little less tired. Swiping some blush on my cheeks and gloss on my lips perked my face up even more. I spun in a circle, taking in my tank top and jean shorts. They hugged a little tighter than they used to. Grandma fed me a lot better than Mom ever did.

"Uh-oh." Wesley materialized. "Better watch it or your boyfriend will be searching for a new girlfriend."

Offended, I scoffed at him. "Isaac said I would be beautiful no matter what size I was."

"And you believed him? Wow, you are gullible."

"Why would he lie about that?"

"Guys say whatever they can to get in a girl's pants."

"I thought all Isaac cared about was getting me saved. Isn't that what you said yesterday?"

Black flashed in his eyes. "That's true, but even as righteous as he is he's still a guy and all guys think about is s.e.x. Believe me, I'm a guy. I know. It's the only thing we care about."

"Isaac isn't like that."

"Oh, what? He's perfect."

"Pretty close."

"Man, you are naive. You really believe you're dating the one perfect male in the whole world. He's really got you wrapped around his finger. I should hang out with this guy, get some pointers."

"Why are you being so mean?"

"I'm not." Wesley came to stand next to me, filling the rest of the mirror. "I just want to help you. I know how you can keep that boyfriend of yours and I know that's what you want." He walked over to my dresser, plucked up one of my magazines. He opened it to a spread of models, all rail thin. "This is every guy's fantasy. Any guy who says different is lying. Trust me."

I narrowed my eyes at him, s.n.a.t.c.hed the magazine from his fingers. They were gorgeous, if not a bit anorexic looking. Glancing back in the mirror I sucked in my stomach. From this vantage point I resembled the models a little. I let my stomach fall back into place and groaned. Who was I kidding? The only thing about me that even sort of resembled those models was my drawn, tired face.

Discouraged, I dropped the magazine like it was on fire. It fluttered to the ground.

"Don't be upset. You can look like those girls."

"No, I can't."

"Sure you can. Just stop eating."

Exasperated, I crossed my arms over my chest. "Just stop eating? That's your advice? I can't do that. I'm not a spirit like you. I have to eat or else I'll die."

"I'm not saying you should never eat again. Just eat a lot less. You think those models eat three full meals a day with snacks? No. They probably only eat a couple of times a day."

He did have a point. I suppose I could try to cut back. What could it hurt?

Over the next few days I scarcely ate and was pleased to see my clothes fitting a little baggier. It would've been amazing except for Grandma's nagging. She watched me like a hawk, hovering whenever I ate. I imagined her tallying how many bites I took, calculating the number of calories.

Finally one night at dinner she slammed down her fork in frustration. "Okay, Kenzie. Why aren't you eating? It's really concerning me."

"What are you? The food police?"

"Drop the att.i.tude, okay? It's not becoming."

"Sorry." I lowered my gaze and picked at the rice on my plate.

"Something's going on with you. You're not sleeping. You're not eating. I'm worried."

"Well, don't be. I've just gained a few pounds since I've been here and I'm trying to drop them. It's not that big a deal. Everyone diets."

"But, Kenzie, you don't need to. You're thin already."

"I'm not." I peered down at my stomach, cringed at the fat rolls.

"Yes, you are."

"You're my grandma. You're supposed to say that and I appreciate it, but it's not true."

Prowl. Part 15

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Prowl. Part 15 summary

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