I feel like a mountain of shame has been dumped on me. How can I ever face Luke again? Or anyone? Mom’s ruined it. Forever. Am I really so disgusting that she had topayhim to go out with me? And what the hell does Luke really even think about me? How could he go through with her crazy-ass plan? I’m so angry; I despise them both so much.
Ugh. There I was, like a reject, taunting Jane about how Luke really likesme, so full of myself, so sure, and now I’m just a giant loser. My mother and Luke have turned me into a joke. I’ll always be a joke. Always have been, always will be. Just wait until the others hear; oh, they’re gonna love this one.
I’m about to release her wrists, get the hell out of here, when Mom adds, “He feels sorry for you, Nellie. Pities you. You didn’treallybelieve he liked you, did you? Have some dignity, damn it! Now stop this foolishness and get the fuck off me.” She squirms, but that only makes me grip tighter.
“Nellie! Now!” She kicks, but I sit on her legs. “Do you haveanyidea what kind of mud pit I had to climb out of to build this life for us? Foryou? You’ve had your whole life handed to you on a platter, like an indulged, spoiled brat. You don’t even realize what all I’ve given you. You ungrateful, clueless little twat, you don’t even know thehalfof what I’ve done to help buffer your nothing little life.”
That wicked smirk bleeds across her face again. She says the next part under her breath but loud enough that I can hear it: “Nobody ever had to pay someone to go on a date with me.” I look at Mom, beneath me—perfect Mom, gorgeous Mom, never-had-to-worry-about-boys Mom, vicious-as-a-snake Mom—and I snap. I’m not even thinking anymore when it happens.
My hands wrap around her throat, squeezing. Shaking.
I feel like she and Luke just pulled down my panties in front of the whole town. I keep squeezing. Her legs kick and flail, but I sit on them harder. The memory comes flooding back of her laughing, drunk, asking Dad,Are we sure she’s even ours?How assaulted I felt, how small and alone. How I cried myself to sleep until I could hardly breathe while they fucked and giggled in the other room. I squeeze even harder.
Her eyes fill with fear. “Nellie, stop—” but she can’t finish her sentence because she’s choking now. It feelssogood to hurt her, so good to unleash my pain onto someone else.
It’s only after she stops coughing that I realize I’ve taken it way too far.
86
Nellie
Mom’s dead. I killed her.
I couldn’t stop myself.
And now it’s too late.
I stand over her lifeless body; her mouth is still open, like she’s in shock.
What the fuck have I done?
Fresh tears filling my eyes, I stagger, then start puking up my guts.
This didn’t have to happen. Why did I do this? And what the fuck am I gonna do about it?
I walk to the edge of the woods, look down at the Boat House.
The inside lights are now turned off; the deck is empty.
Other than Mom’s Jag and my bimmer, the parking lot is also empty.
I’ve gotta do something.
It’s too far to the river. It’d take a mile of hiking to get there.
And I don’t have a shovel on me, so I can’t bury her.
I run down to the Boat House, stumbling around the deck, making sure the coast is really clear.
After I catch my breath, I calmly walk back up the hill, back to Mom in the woods, where I left her.
For a second I think about lifting her, putting her in thetrunk. Dumping her on Dad’s land. But that’s so far away, and the thought of driving around with her makes me ill. And what if I get pulled over?
No.
The lake will have to do.
I take a deep breath, work up my nerve, and grab her by the ankles.
