Shelly’s lips trembled. “She’s killing me,” she whispered.
“She?” Julia asked.
“Her,” Shelly answered.
Tears burned Julia’s eyes and she stanched them, trying as hard as she could to be strong. If this was true, it was bigger than too many rules. Bigger than getting yelled at or not being allowed on playdates unless you got straight As. It was even bigger than getting slapped around when you didn’t deserve it. It was marrow deep.
“Your mom,” Julia said.
Shelly’s voice broke. “Don’t tell anyone.”
Julia looked across the hot, empty park, and the hole behind them, which kept getting bigger. Nothing made sense. Nothing was how it was supposed to be because the world was upside down. All the grown-ups were kids, and the kids were on their own, and maybe that’s how it had been all along.
“Show me your hurt,” Julia said. “I have to see.”
Shelly’s eyes watered. “You won’t think of me the same.”
“That’s not true. I know you exactly. We played Truth or Dare a thousand times. I know you.”
Shelly leaned forward and slid her shirt up her back. Her skin wasn’t pale but bruised yellow. Every part was marked by pinprick bruises aligned into oval shapes. Most were in a state of healing—just blended shadows. There were four recent ones. Bright red with trapped blood, like the hickey Dave Harrison had given her last year behind the 7-Eleven as a joke but not a joke.
Julia touched the center one very gently. Index and middle finger, tracing a soft line down Shelly’s spine. Shelly eased at Julia’s touch. She sighed out. Happy, almost.
Shelly let her expensive Free People shirt fall back down. “I wanted this special French twist. You know, with braids all around. For my thirteenth birthday party.” Shelly looked to Julia. “September? Was it that long ago?”
Julia didn’t know how she was supposed to answer. “That’s your birthday. Yeah.”
Shelly seemed confused on a deep, unsettled level. “I think that was the first time. I think so. She did it as a joke because she was so frustrated and we both laughed. And then she did it again and it wasn’t funny… Sometimes I forget. I go someplace else when it happens,” Shelly said, her voice soft, like it was night and they were alone in Julia’s room, in sleeping bags. “It’s never outside where a bathing suit goes… When I see myself in the mirror it’s a surprise. It’s so crazy and so secret that I think I did it to myself. Maybe I turned thirteen and something happened that made me split personality or schizophrenic. I know I’m not right. But they’re too high up my back. There’s no way I did it to myself. That’s half the reason I started taking the pictures. So I can be sure it’s real.”
A memory returned to Julia, and it made her weary. She felt as old as Shelly looked with that cropped hair and sunken eyes. “Do you remember that time we were rehearsing at your house?”
“When?” Shelly asked.
“When we did the Billie Eilish for the talent show. Your mom didn’t know I was in your room. She opened the door. Like, slammed it open. And it was so weird, because I’d just heard her talking on the phone downstairs and she’d been laughing. But she looked so mad all of a sudden. And then she saw me and it was gone. Like it had never happened. She was smiling.”
Shelly didn’t say anything.
“It was so crazy. I thought she was going to murder us, and then she was asking if I wanted a strawberry smoothie. I didn’t know what to think. It was unreal. I thought I’d imagined it. Do you remember?” Julia asked.
Shelly shook her head. Without hair, her neck looked long and vulnerable, like a sea creature out of its shell. “No. But she does that sometimes, when people aren’t looking. People who aren’t me… I wanted to tell you. I kept thinking you knew. I thought because we spent so much time, it was like osmosis and you knew. That’s why you and your family were always so nice to me. You were trying to make up for it.”
Julia tried not to cry, but Shelly’s bruise had been like any other skin, to the touch. It seemed wrong that it hadn’t been like fire. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”
Shelly winced. “It’s okay. I think I just wanted to imagine that you knew, so I wouldn’t have to do something about it. I could pretend the whole world was in on it. Especially Maple Street. But then she said I couldn’t hang out with you anymore, and if you were with the Rat Pack, I couldn’t hang out with them. And I knew.”