“Where’s that tea?” she asked me immediately. I pointed to the white cabinet above the stove. As she went to get it, I looked across the table to Izzie.
“Isabel Edwards, are you okay?”
She looked up, somewhat stunned. No one called her Isabel except for her grandmother. I felt the moment called for some tenderness. She smiled sadly. “I don’t think so, Tessa. I feel like I’m losing my mind.” Her expression was so tortured that I felt goose bumps run up my arms. She had to be guilty. What other reason could Izzie have for being this unkempt?
“I know what it’s like to feel confused,” I whispered. “I’ve been there.”
“No, you haven’t. Not like this.”
And I didn’t doubt her. Even in my darkest moments, I never looked this down. This depressed. Izzie was going through something else entirely. I couldn’t imagine what would bring her to the point of ruining SOS. But I was starting to feel like it was the only explanation.
When Leona came back to the table, she set a green mug in front of Izzie with a tea tag hanging over the side.
“I’m worried about you,” Leona said as she sat down. “We all are.”
Izzie sipped carefully, both hands wrapped around the ceramic. “Things are going to be okay,” she murmured. “I have some things to deal with, and then I’ll be okay.”
“But what are you dealing with?” I asked, leaning over on the table. “Just tell us what you did, and we can help.”
“I can’t tell you. I …” But Izzie’s rigid body looked like it closed in on itself, and she quietly began to sob. It was like she liquefied right there.
Poor Izzie! Grabbing my crutches, I hopped over to her side of the table, Leona coming to stand at my side. When I got there, I stood behind Izzie and bent down and hugged her. She held my arms, continuing to cry.
“Whatever you’ve done, Iz. We still love you. We forgive you. You just have to tell us,” I whispered into her shoulder. She didn’t answer, but as her shaking tapered down, she released my arm.
I couldn’t press her anymore today. She was far too fragile. I hated to admit it, but Chloe’s diagnosis seemed spot on. This was a severe case of PTSOSD.
Maybe after a relaxing and self-esteem-building makeover, she’d be able to admit what she’d done. Then we could find out exactly what led to the outing of SOS.
As she sat with her shoulders hunched, I piled Izzie’s hair into a loose bun and silently got out the beauty tools. I worked the hot oil slowly through her hair, massaging her scalp with my fingers. Without a word, Leona took Izzie’s hand and began buffing her nails, getting them ready to polish.
About halfway through, Leona shot me a concerned gaze, but I didn’t know how to respond. I was way out of my league. I finished up the conditioning treatment and then crutched over to the sink to wash my hands.
“We’re going to take good care of you,” I heard Leona whisper to her. “Tessa is great at clearing out pores, so your complexion will be glowing by tomorrow. This conditioner is going to bring back the gorgeous shine in your hair. And after this, I’m taking you to the mall to retrain you on how to accessorize. It’s all going to be okay.”
I didn’t hear Izzie answer.
My house phone rang, and I went over to look at the caller ID. “It’s Kira,” I said, looking over at Leona. I hadn’t spoken to her since I was out with Joel last night. And I wasn’t sure I wanted to now.
“Let it go to voice mail.” Leona rolled her eyes and went back to prepping Izzie’s nails.
“No,” Izzie said. “Answer it, Tess. I want you two to patch things up.”
Aw! That was so sweet of Izzie. But it wasn’t that easy. Not with the betrayals and backstabbing. Not with Joel still in the middle. But I also thought it was rude to send someone to voice mail.
“Hey,” I said.
“I’m going to be honest,” Kira started. “I know we shouldn’t even discuss Joel because we’re trying to keep up appearances for the squad. I just don’t want there to be any weirdness at practice.” She sounded emotionally exhausted.
Anxiety turned in my stomach. “I’m sorry about that. I really don’t want any weirdness either. I didn’t even know you two were still friends.”
“We are. And I’m going to keep being friends with him. But … let’s not bump into each other like that again. Deal?”
“Deal.”
“Now,” she continued, sounding over it, “how’s Izzie? Chloe told me she and Leona found some crazy note last night. Did she admit to ratting us out yet?”
“No,” I said, looking over at Izzie and Leona. They were both looking down as Leona applied the Pink Champagne nail polish. “I think it’s all going to be okay,” I told Kira. “Smitten Kittens stick together.”
“Like glue.” She sighed. “Well, keep me updated, okay?”
“I will. And, K, I’m really sorry. About … everything.”
She paused a long time before clearing her throat. “Me, too,” she said quickly before hanging up. I stood on my crutches for a moment, listening to the dial tone. Truth was I did feel bad. I just wasn’t really sure how to make it better.
When I got back to the table, I checked Izzie’s hair. “You can probably go wash this out now,” I suggested, picking through her curls. “Do you need help?”
“No, I think I’ve got it,” Izzie said quietly, scratching at her hair. “Thanks, though.”
“Hurry up,” Leona called as Izzie got up. “I need to do your other hand. It’s desperately in need of color, and the fashion police will be here any minute.”
I laughed, but Izzie was silent as she crossed the room, headed toward my bathroom. When she was gone, I sat down across from Leona. We stared at each other for a long moment until she dropped her head.
“What do you think?” I asked. “Did she turn us over to Blaze?”
Leona grabbed the bottle of pink nail polish and shook it. “I don’t know. I’m not convinced. I mean, yes—she’s acting way screwed up. But I feel like we’re missing something.”
“Me, too.”
Leona got up, grabbing the Oreos out of the cabinet as I thought about what to do next. Izzie was clearly a wreck, and I was pretty sure we’d need to get her some professional help. I’d hoped the makeover would plug her back in to the outside world, but it seemed to do the opposite.