“I’ve heard her,” Katie said. “So have some other kids. We’d all back you up if you told someone.”
Misty thought about it. Heck, she’d thought about little else since the school year had started and Greg had asked her out that first time. That’s when the online posts had started, as well. It hadn’t been a coincidence. Katie was right about that.
But even though she knew she needed help, she couldn’t bring herself to ask for it. It would be humiliating if her teachers, especially the ones she really admired, like Ms. Reed, found out what Annabelle was saying about her. They’d think she was some degenerate sex maniac or something. If she’d done even a tenth of the things Annabelle had posted online about her, she’d have probably been knocked up by now. It was disgusting.
And then there was no question her mom and dad would find out. Things were bad enough between them as it was. She didn’t want them fighting over her and maybe even believing those awful lies. She could hear her dad blaming her mother for allowing her to become some trashy kid with no morals. God, it was a nightmare. Her whole life was a nightmare.
“I gotta go,” she told Katie. “I think my mom’s calling me.”
“No, she’s not,” Katie said knowingly. “You just don’t want to talk about this anymore.”
“No, I don’t,” Misty said candidly.
“Then we’ll talk about something else,” Katie said at once. “Want to see a movie this weekend?”
“I don’t think so.” The last time she’d gone to the movies, she’d run into Greg and Annabelle. Greg had looked at her with that knowing sneer that made her blood run cold and Annabelle had looked smug. She’d wanted to leave even before the opening credits rolled.
“I know there’s no point in asking you to go to tomorrow night’s football game,” Katie said with regret.
“Not a chance,” Misty said with feeling.
“How about this? We could go to Wharton’s for a burger while the game’s going on. There won’t be any chance Annabelle will be there as long as Greg is playing. In fact, half the town will be at the game.”
“But you shouldn’t have to miss out on the game because of me,” Misty protested, though she was touched by Katie’s offer.
“Believe me, I’ll hear every detail over breakfast,” Katie assured her. “Kyle’s coming home for the weekend. My big brother and Cal will do the entire play-by-play. It’ll be like being there, but not as boring.”
Misty chuckled. “With a baseball jock like Ty for a big brother and Coach Maddox as a stepdad, how did you wind up with such an aversion to sports? Even Kyle, who never played anything, at least goes nuts over the games.”
Katie laughed. “Just lucky, I guess. But at least I know enough sports trivia to fake it with a date. No guy will ever believe I am totally clueless. So, are we on for tomorrow night?”
“If you’re sure you don’t care about going to the game, going to Wharton’s would be great.”
“Then it’s a plan. And keep thinking about talking to Ms. Reed, okay?”
“Sure,” Misty said, her mood sinking again. With Dr. Fullerton’s ultimatum hanging over her head, too, she might not have much choice.
3
Most days J.C. had someone in the office pick up lunch for him while they were out, but his concern for Misty made him restless today. He decided a walk to Wharton’s would relieve his stress and give him a much-needed change of scenery.
He’d just settled into a booth when he looked up and saw his nurse standing there with a statuesque, red-haired stranger beside her. She was attractive in a way that would have once appealed to him, but today he felt not a single spark. He congratulated himself on finally building up sufficient immunity to all women. It was something he’d worked hard to do ever since the disastrous and sadly predictable end of his marriage. He should have known before ever walking down the aisle that he, too, would fall victim to what he thought of as the Fullerton curse, an inability to choose women who wouldn’t betray them.
“Isn’t this a wonderful coincidence?” Debra said, beaming at him. “May we join you?”
Even though he saw this for exactly what it was—yet another of her very sneaky attempts to set him up—J.C. couldn’t think of a single gracious way to say no. “Of course,” he said grudgingly, standing. “Have a seat.”
As soon as they’d slid into the booth opposite him, Debra said, “J.C., this is my friend Linda’s daughter, Janice Walker. She’s visiting from California. Remember? I told you all about her yesterday. It’s her first time in Serenity.”