Shocking Pink. Erica Spindler

Raven to her feet. She winced as she put her weight on her leg for the first time. “Man, that hurts.”

      “Come on,” Andie murmured. “We need to get that cut cleaned. It looks pretty deep.” She bent and peered at Raven’s leg. She wrinkled her nose. “It might even need stitches.”

      Stitches. Julie felt light-headed. Raven had done this for her. Hurt herself to help her.

      “Do you think?” Raven studied the gash, her face pale. She swayed a bit and grabbed Julie’s arm. “Now my leg will match my face,” she murmured, referring to the long scar that curved down her right cheek, the result of a car accident when she was six. “Once a freak always a freak.”

      “You’re not a freak!” Julie glanced at Andie, then back at Raven. “You have the hair and eyes of an angel, and you—”

      “Have the face of a monster.” Raven laughed grimly. “You think I haven’t heard the guys call me Bride of Frankenstein behind my back?”

      “They’re just immature jerks,” Andie said quickly. “Don’t pay any attention to them.”

      “Spoken like someone who nobody’s ever stared at or whispered about. You don’t know what it’s like to be different.”

      “You’d rather look like me?” Andie asked, holding her arms out. “There’s nothing special about me. Dishwater-blond hair, brown eyes. I don’t even have boobs yet and I’m fifteen.”

      “Julie got ’em,” Raven said, a smile tugging at her mouth. “Julie got everyone’s.”

      Julie felt herself blush. “You do so have boobs, both of you. Mine aren’t that big.”

      “Compared to what? Watermelons?” Raven’s smile faded. “Don’t you guys get it?” She shifted her weight slightly, grimacing. “It doesn’t matter what other people think. It doesn’t matter if the whole frigging world thinks I’m a freak. All I care about is us, our friendship. I could be the most beautiful girl in the world, but I would be dead without you two. You’re my family. And like tonight, family always sticks up for each other. Always.”

       2

      An hour later, Andie stood at her front door, her head still spinning with the events of the night. She couldn’t stop picturing Raven bringing the rock crashing down on her leg. Raven had hardly even flinched, though Andie knew it must have really hurt. The gash had bled so much her white sneaker had turned pink.

      But it had done the trick for Julie, that was for sure. Reverend Cooper had glowered at them, questioning them about their whereabouts before the accident had happened, obviously trying to trap them into confessing some mortal sin.

      Through it all, Julie had looked almost comically guilty, but Raven had hammed it up for the Good Reverend, going on and on about the way Julie had stayed to help her even though Raven had begged her to go ahead and get home.

      Raven was the best liar Andie had ever known.

      And the best friend anyone could have. Andie didn’t think she would have the guts to do something like that, even if it meant saving her best friend’s butt.

      In the end the worst he had delivered was a stern admonishment for them all to be more careful. Mrs. Cooper had cleaned and bandaged Raven’s leg, then driven them both home.

      Andie turned and waved to Mrs. Cooper, then let herself in her front door. She shook her head. Raven was always doing stuff like that, charging fearlessly in to help her or Julie, never worrying about reprisals or being hurt.

      That’s how she and Raven had met. It had been the summer she was eight, and Raven had just moved into the house next door. She had come upon Andie, surrounded by a group of neighborhood bullies on bikes. Raven had jumped in the middle of them, like some sort of supergirl out to save the day. Andie laughed to herself, remembering how awed she had been even though they had both gotten their butts kicked.

      They had been instant best friends and inseparable ever since.

      Andie headed for the kitchen, hungry. She plucked an apple from the fruit bowl on the counter. “Mom?” she called, noticing how quiet it was. “Dad? I’m home!”

      “In here, pumpkin,” her dad answered from the den, his voice sounding funny, kind of thick and tight. Like he had a cold. “Could you come in here, please?”

      “Sure, Dad.” She ambled for the den, polishing the apple on her T-shirt sleeve. She took a big bite, thinking about the way her dad had sounded. If it wasn’t a cold, he was probably pissed off about some dumb stunt her brothers had pulled. Twins, four years younger than she was, they were always getting into something they weren’t supposed to.

      Brothers, Andie thought. They were such a pain.

      Andie found her entire family in the den—her mother, father and brothers. She stopped in the doorway, moving her gaze from one to the next, the bite of apple sticking in her throat. Her mother’s eyes and face were red and puffy from crying, her dad’s face was stiff, his mouth set into a hard, grim line. For once, her brothers were quiet, their heads bowed and shoulders slumped.

       Something was wrong. Something terrible had happened.

      “Mom? What is it?”

      Her mother refused to look at her, and Andie shifted her gaze to her father. “Dad? What’s wrong? Is it Grandma? Is it—”

      Her mother looked up then, and the raw fury in her expression stunned Andie. She had never seen her mother look that way before. Andie took an involuntary step backward. “Mom? Have I done something wrong? I mean, I’m sorry if I’m late, but Raven fell and—”

      “Your father has something to tell you.”

      Andie turned to her dad. “Daddy?” she whispered, using the name she hadn’t called him in years. “What’s wrong?”

      “Sit down, pumpkin.”

      “No.” She shook her head. “Not until you tell me everything’s okay.”

      “Tell her, Dan,” her mother piped in, voice cracking. “Tell her how everything’s going to be okay. Tell her how you decided you don’t love us anymore.”

      “Marge!”

      Her mother’s voice rose to a hysterical pitch. “Tell her how you’re leaving us.”

      Andie stared at her parents. This couldn’t be happening. Not to her happy family.

      “No,” she said, hearing her own panic. “No, it isn’t true.”

      “Honey—” Her dad stood and held out a hand to her. “This happens sometimes. Adults fall out of love with each other. This has nothing to do with you or your brothers.”

      She heard his words, but hollowly, as if they had come from a great distance. They echoed in her head, mingling with the thunder of her own heart.

       Fall out of love? Nothing to do with her?

       He was leaving them. Leaving her.

      She sucked in a quick, shallow breath, pain a living thing inside her. How could he say that? How could it have nothing to do with her if she felt like she was dying inside?

      “This has nothing to do with any of you kids,” he continued. “I love you all as much as I always have.”

      Andie darted a glance at her brothers. They were huddled together, clinging to one another. Pete was crying quietly; Daniel was not. Daniel stared stonily at their father, eyes bright with fury. With her brothers, the lines had already been drawn.

      How typical of them, she thought. Though twins, they were as different as night and day. Pete was sensitive, emotional, exuberant; everybody’s favorite. Daniel on the other hand, was intense, serious, introverted. Unlike Pete,