Tokio Derby

“So,” Ariel said, pulling a lock of her newly streaked hair behind her ear. The purple in her hair made her eyes look even more glamorous. “How’s school been Clarissa?”

“Fine,” I answered automatically, trying not to focus on something as small as this. Since when did my mom notice I wasn’t around? I could count the times she forgot me at home on all the fingers on my hands, all of my toes, and both my ears. And since when did she get my phone number? Only the people at the adoption service had my number. Them, my friends, Dominic and the members of Tokio Hotel, but they didn’t count because they were practically family to me. And since when did they want me back? They just probably wanted someone to-

“-right Clarissa?” Davon’s words knocked me out of my thoughts.

“What?” I replied, snapping back into this world.

“I said we’re learning how t play instrument for the fake club we are in school, right Clarissa?” Davon said again, looking at me for verification.

“Yeah,” I answered trying to smile for them both. “I have to learn how to play the drums and everything.”

“And just who is on vocals for this fake band?” Ariel asked, looking at us instead of the road. I pointed to Davon and her cheeks flamed. Ariel smiled a 1400-watt smile. “I knew it! Someone with a voice as good as yours was a shoo-in to sing!”

The car continued on like that, Ariel turning on punk music and singing along to it while asking us questions. Soon enough we were at the house and Davon and I couldn’t wait to escape. I hopped out of the car and stared at their home. It was a small Victorian with blue shutters that went against the rest of the dark theme. The house was painted a dark purple with small shrubs lying around the house and a scary looking tree out front, like it was protecting them. We walked up the narrow entranceway and waited while Ariel got out her keys and opened the door. I barely got a chance to check out the rest of the house before Davon grabbed my arm and rushed to her room.

I dumped my sleepover stuff on the white carpet and looked around. In the center of the room was Davon’s bed, a queen size bed with purple covers and a black canopy above. Her computer was placed on a messy desk in the corner of her room, next to one of her many bookcases filled with books. Even her TV was practically suffocating with the piles of books surrounding it.

“So,” Davon chirped, hopping on her bed and patting a spot near her. I lay down next to her. “What’s been going on lately?”

“You say that like we didn’t just see each other,” I joked.

“I know,” she sighed, laughing to herself. “But sometimes there are things you can’t tell to others.” She flipped herself over so she was looking at the canopy. “Things that you can only tell to those you truly trust.”

Oh sweet God, I thought to myself,she’s from a family of serial killers. She’s going to show me the dead bodies they keep in the basement.

“It’s nothing bad like coming from a family of serial killers or something.” Oh sweet God. She can read minds. “It’s just something I’ve never told anyone.”

She sighed. “Did you know that I was raped?” she asked casually. It took a while for it to set in, but when it did the room got so silent you could hear a flea fart.

“It happened a good year before you came here. I used to live in another area not very far from here, so I practically knew everyone here. Before I moved here I was a bit…..skanky. I used to wear tight clothes and dress like all my clothes got shredded. I went through so many boys in a month it was like I had one every other day.

“Don’t get me wrong: I never actually did the dirty with any of the boys. The farthest I ever got with a boy was a blowjob. But because I was such a punk, no guy ever wanted to be around me.

“And that’s when I found John Smith.”

Davon sighed, eyes wandering off into the distance. “It was like he knew exactly what I was feeling all the time. Whenever I was mad and went on online chat, he would be there to listen. He wouldn’t say much, but when he did it was amazingly sweet. So after a while, we started to flirt with each other. Then the flirting turned to something more serious. I would send pictures of myself in my underwear and provocative messages about the things I wanted to do to him. Mostly using food.”

“Eating a hot dog donut,” I whispered, suddenly realizing it. Davon nodded in reply. “But wait, how did it turn into….you know….rape?”

Davon sighed even louder. “He recorded all of our messages. Well, I wouldn’t say he, but more of a group of people. One day we both decided to meet each other and” she blushed, “you know. It was a bad location from the start- a dark alleyway in the middle of the night- but nothing could stop me. So when I showed up, a voice told me to come farther in the alley…..” she started to choke up. “It was a group of guys….they decided to videotape it….and…and…-“

She started blubbering now, her face crinkling up and tears running down her face like a never-ending geyser. I stiffened. Why does noticing others cry make me want to cry? I pushed that selfish thought out of my head. Why would she tell me this? Did she tell anyone else? What if she wants me to tell her about some of the skeletons in my closet? I started to hyperventilate.

“Are you okay?” she asked, hazel eyes filled with tears. “You look like you want to cry.” I nodded no in reply quickly. I will not cry, I thought to myself. I will not cry.

“Why are you telling me this?” was all I could manage. We stared at each other for a period of time. She broke the gaze, smiling even while crying. “I think of you as someone close to me,” she replied, “like a best friend.”

That truly set me off. All the tears I kept back for years decided that now was the time to escape. I crumpled into her arms, feeling her embrace me like a mother does to her child. For the first time in my life, I might actually have a best friend. Sure, I’ve had close friends before, but never one with a title of “best” before it. I thought of what typical best friends do in movies: braiding each other’s hair and whispering secrets about everything. Could I do that? Is telling anyone my secret what a good friend would do?

I heard the door open, and pulled away from Davon to notice Ariel holding a phone to her shoulder and staring at us. “You guys thought of sad puppies commercials too, huh?” she replied, running over to us and flopping down in between us. She gave Davon a noogie she tried to avoid and kissed her on the cheek. “Mom’s on the phone. She wants to know what you crazy guys want from the store.”

“Maybe some pizza, some soda,” she looked at me for approval, and I nodded. “A couple of hot, single men for a wild party?”

We all laughed, like nothing sad had happened before it. The night progressed like such: we ate pizza and I met their mom, who looks so much like an older version of them it isn’t even funny. After eating The Mom let us have some beers and karaoke turned out to be one of the funniest things ever. At a point, Ariel went into her room to get her video camera to “record the beautiful moment”. So when I got the message from Dominic’s phone it seemed that something could stop me.

Who the hell is this?

This is Clarissa, I replied. who the hell is this?

This is Dominic’s girlfriend. Who the hell is this?

Holy Mary, Mother of God. The boy’s a cheater. And he thinks he’s going to get away with it.