Lucinda tried to make her voice soothing, like you would with a dog. “Sweetheart, that was all so long ago—”
“Was it? Is it? It’s still going on! Right now! This, right here, is Parker telling you I crashed your car—and you believing her. This is Parker telling you the stolen math exam answers in our room were mine—and you believing her. This is Parker—bullying the hell out of poor, kindhearted Augusta Ross so viciously and so toxically that the girl ate a whole bottle of Tylenol and then telling the school administrators that it was me—and you, all of you, believing her!”
I could hear my voice go off the rails. Starting to sound like Janis Joplin. Louder and screechier—as if volume or desperation or hysteria could get through to them.
Though it certainly never had before.
A new crowd of people was starting to gather around us. Lucinda glanced around at them uncomfortably. She lowered her voice. “Sadie, let’s all just try to move on.”
Which made me want to bang my head against that brick wall.
What did any of them think I was trying to do?
“When did you text her?” I demanded of Lucinda then.
“What?”
“When did you text Parker to let her know that the show was happening after all?”
Lucinda looked over at Parker, like Parker might hint at how to answer.
“When!” I shouted.
“About ten minutes ago,” Lucinda said.
I nodded. “Guess when Parker got here? An hour ago. She’s been taunting me at my own art exhibition for over an hour. And guess what she said right as she walked in? She said, ‘Guess they stood you up.’”
Lucinda stared at me, taking that in.
“She engineered this. She created it. She saw you trying to be nice to me, and she torpedoed us all. Again.”
But Lucinda was shaking her head. “Sweetheart, I—”
“You never believe me,” I said. “But it’s the truth.”
Just as I said it, a woman stepped out of the crowd and walked up to us all, standing there. “Hello,” she said, in a chipper voice.
It was so odd that she would approach us right then, mid-fight. I mean, Come on, lady. Read the room.
But she clearly wasn’t put off by the family squabble.
She just plowed right on ahead.
She stuck out her hand to shake Lucinda’s and then did the same thing to my dad, and then she said, “Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery, you probably don’t remember me…”
My dad and Lucinda shook their heads to confirm.
“But my name,” the lady went on, “is Augusta Ross.”
Okay, we may not have remembered the person—but absolutely no one in our family could ever have forgotten that name.
Lucinda dropped her purse at the sound of it, and Augusta politely picked it up for her.
“Augusta Ross?” Lucinda confirmed.
“It’s so lucky I ran into you,” Augusta went on with determined brightness. “I’ve been wanting to reach out.”
“Why,” Lucinda asked, “would you want to do that?”
“And it’s so lucky that I arrived just when I did, don’t you think? Here I was, coming to see the art show of my dear old friend Sadie, and what should I hear as I walk up to the building but Sadie herself, shouting my name.”
Nobody knew what to say to that. Not even me.
I was still wrapping my head around it. Augusta Ross was here? The Augusta Ross?
“Just to bring you up to speed,” Augusta said, her voice still aggressively bright. “After my suicide attempt all those years ago, my parents moved us across the country. As you can imagine, they cut off all contact with people we’d known back here. Life was hard enough for a while, and I just did my best to put it all behind me. Blah-blah-blah—I grew up, went to Stanford for art history, got offered a fantastic job with Rice University, and wound up moving back here last summer. Over my parents’ objections, of course.”
Safe to say, nobody in my sad little family had any idea where all this was heading.
“Anyway,” Augusta went on, all chatty, “after I moved back, I started bumping into old classmates and hearing the craziest stories about that whole me-getting-bullied-to-the-brink-of-suicide thing. The craziest of all was—and I just keep feeling like this can’t be true—that Sadie was the one who got blamed for the bullying. That’s not right, is it?”
I glanced at Parker. The smugness had most definitely faded from her vibe.
“Well…” Lucinda said, glancing at my dad. “The school takes a zero-tolerance stance on bullying…”