by Cecily Wolfe
“The regular work, too. And anything else that comes up.”
The sofa jerks when we all jump at the loud clapping that precedes my mother as she appears from the hall.
“Time to go, girls.”
She looks us all over, but I’ve tucked the root beer can under the sofa, and all she can see is the laptop on my knees and a small stack of paper with notes and assignments from teachers.
Don’t they know I’m not allowed to complete any work I miss, that they’ll have to give me zeros on it all?
“It’s nice to see Mia has some good friends after all. It’s too bad she was with that boy yesterday and not you. Maybe she wouldn’t have made such bad choices.”
I suddenly feel trapped between Megan and Krystal, as they both shift , pressing their thighs against mine.
“Uh, sure? But she’s like the good one of us all, I think, right?”
I squeeze my eyes shut at Bethany’s proclamation, because the three of them don’t do anything wrong or against the rules, either.
Except . . . Krystal.
Maybe.
Would she really not turn Mr. Carl down if he hit on her?
I don’t want to think she was the one in the car, but . . .
If I’m going to figure this out, I need to keep a more open mind, and not assume who the teacher and student are without more clues.
Without more evidence.
“I’ll text you.”
All three of my friends promise this, one after the other, and I nod, smiling with genuine thanks.
I look at the palms of my hands, which have grown damp.
I don’t want to be alone here with my mom again.
I want them to stay.
“Mom, there’s some assignments I have questions about. Can we have a few more minutes?”
Someone puts a hand on my back as my mother and I stare at each other, the time stretching out between us as I watch her, as if I can see her thoughts as she considers this.
She merely nods after a few moments, as if it’s no big deal, and Krystal leans in closer to me.
“Geez, Mia, your bones are like, sticking out. I think you need a lot more root beer.”
“If you give me Eli’s number, I’ll tell him to leave more. I’m sure he’ll be over when your parents are gone, right?”
“So are you two dating now? Does Josh know?”
The questions are clearly not school related and I hope my mother has truly left the hallway so she doesn’t hear any of them.
I’m not sure how to answer them.
Nothing has happened between Eli and me, and he has a lot more to deal with than I do.
Maybe with my crazy demand that we run away together, he’s had enough of me.
I shrug.
“This whole situation is worse for him, since he got expelled.”
Megan looks at Krystal and then at Bethany, carefully as if she’s considering what she can say in front of them.
She doesn’t know them very well, and she might be wondering how much she should share.
I shake my head, worried she’ll bring up the note and the teacher situation, but she walks towards the front of the room and stares out of the window with her arms crossed.
The blue tips of her hair catch the fading sunlight as it trickles in, distracting me from my concern over what’s about to come out of her mouth.
“Josh isn’t himself, not when it comes to you, Mia. So . . . when you’re here alone, be careful.”
Krystal sucks in a breath beside me when Megan stops speaking, but I’m not surprised by her words.
The texts Josh has sent are sharp and tense, although I’ve scrolled through them without more than a brief look, unwilling to open them to read further or give him the satisfaction of knowing they’ve been read.
But the threats are clear.
He doesn’t plan to let go of me, not that easily.
But why?
“He’s never had anyone break up with him, and he’s taking it hard. Alex is worried about him, but I’m worried about you. You look sick, like you haven’t eaten in days, and like you aren’t sleeping. Is Eli really a good influence on you? I mean, most of what he does seems to only hurt himself, but now he’s dragged you into it, and . . .”
I have to hold myself back from hurtling across the room at her.
Because she doesn’t know anything about Eli.
None of them do.
Chapter Twenty Three
“I have a mind of my own, and I chose to go on the roof. It wasn’t the best idea, not with the ice, and I should have waited until the spring. But don’t blame him. No one should.”
Megan’s eyes grow wide.
But I can’t let her or anyone else think he forced me to do anything.
That I’m not responsible for my own actions.
“That’s enough.”
My mother comes up behind me, and my blood chills as she rests a hand on the back of my neck.
Her touch is foreign, cold.
“I have neighbors watching the house while Mia’s father and I are gone next week, and I don’t want any wild parties going on. If you visit, it will be short and I’ll be checking in to be sure that’s all it is.”
She’s actually expecting, allowing, me to have my friends over?
“But no boys.”
Of course.
I’m not surprised at this, but shocked I won’t be alone, not without further punishment, while she’s on her cruise.
“Right. We’ll be sure to keep it, uh, mild.”
Megan seems unnaturally at a loss for words, and I nearly burst out laughing as she tries to appease my mother.
Krystal and Bethany join us as we hover near the window, and my mother drops her hand from my neck, suddenly as if she’s only just realized what she’s doing.
And how it might look.
“We’ll talk later, okay?”
The three of them take turns hugging me, passing me from one to the other without any effort on my part, and I let them bear me up for the short time we have between us before they’re gone, waving from the driveway.
Alex is parked on the street, and Krystal along with Bethany slides into the backseat of his car as Megan gets in front.
Has he been waiting there this whole time?
He holds up a hand in a motionless wave, his expression serious, unsmiling, and I mirror the gesture, grateful he took the time to bring the three of them here to see me.
I wonder if Josh knows.
I rub my damp palms over my thighs after I close the door behind me, and my mother startles me as I realize I’m lost in thought.
Maybe I should block his number.
“I expect you to eat dinner with us tonight, Mia. And I mean that literally.”
As soon as my mother throws words at me, getting my attention, she’s gone, back into the kitchen.
I’m not close with our neighbors, and I can’t imagine her asking them to babysit me, to report any moves I make to her while she’s on a boat thousands of miles away from snowy, frozen Ohio.
What could she do if she didn’t like whatever they had to say?
I shrug off the idea, considering she’s lying about telling them what’s going on and asking for their help, and even if she does drop her concern for appearances and makes such a ridiculous request, they won’t hassle me.
Don’t they have their own lives to live?
Back in my room, I glance out my window, half-hoping I’ll see Eli at the end of the street, waiting for me to find him.
But he’s not there, and when I look at my phone, there are no new texts from him.
No calls.
I scroll down and count the number of times I see Josh’s photo, his calm smile either a lie or a believable mood that remains only when he’s getting his way.
Or both.
Thirty two.
I scrunch up my nose as I count again.
That seems excessive.
I shudder , considering I’
ll be alone next week, and everyone will know it.
But I’m only worried about him knowing.
I’ve dropped the school laptop on my bed, on top of the worn blanket, and I shuffle through some notebooks, pulling one from the pile on the floor at random and grabbing a pen from my desk drawer.
There’s something more important for me to deal with now, so Josh can wait until next week, if and when he shows up at the front door.
I don’t know what time it is when I start managing the newspaper email account, doing what I’ve done since September as I shuffle through the correspondence and direct it to individual emails.
Someone has already completed the layout, and I find I don’t resent it. After all, it had to get done and Megan and Dante couldn’t have been sure I would be able to work on it today.
I tap my pen against the notebook and think about the information I have so far about the teacher-student situation.
This needs to get resolved, before something else goes on between them.
If I ask Krystal outright if she's the girl in question, would she be angry?
Can I take that chance, when she’s one of my only friends?
Sometimes Kayla and her friends would argue, but not often. I never understood why they did, but I think of how close they were, more like sisters to both her and to me, and I’m sure any differences they had must have been of this magnitude.
Out of concern, out of love.
But I’m not Kayla, and I don’t know if I can risk it.
I wonder what Eli would advise, but I’m not sure why, since I’ve never seen him with anyone he might call a friend.
Boys he gets into trouble with, who laugh too loudly in the halls as they run alongside him, mimicking his antics.
If he did have friends he could count on, friends to hang out with, would he have taken the time to talk to me?
I have the original note, as well as the text about the Monday band room meetings.
And my own observations, along with the note about the key . . .
I close my eyes and go over what happened when I crept into the band room, before I was interrupted, and then afterwards in the hall when I got busted by the vice principal.
For some reason, the memory of that sweet scent comes back to me, so much like the body spray Kayla loved.
Because her boyfriend liked it so much.
Cotton candy.
But there’s something else I’m forgetting, something that has to do with that nearly sickly scent.
My phone buzzes, and I have to dig around the knit blanket to find it.
Eli.
Finally.
“Hey,” I manage to answer without sounding too desperate, too happy.
But I’m both, so much that his own response, calm and soothing, makes me fall back onto my pillow with relief.
“Hey, yourself. How was the counselor?”
I give him the lowdown on the visit, but there isn’t much to tell except for my mother’s strange behavior and her usual cutting remarks.
“I’m glad they’re going away. I’d love to go on a cruise, someday, but not with her.”
His hum of agreement precedes a revelation I don’t expect.
“Yeah, you get the award for lousiest mom, that’s for sure. But I bet my parents would be glad to get rid of me for a week, if not longer, and they have more reason than yours do.”
His parents are fantastic, at least from what I’ve seen. I’d trade mine for his any day.
I keep that to myself, because I don’t know what goes on between the three of them.
I still don’t know why he acts the way he does, why he looks for attention at every opportunity.
“I’m sorry, Mia, but my parents don’t want me on the phone. I’ll figure a way to get in touch with you, though, okay? I wanted to let you know why you weren’t hearing from me, and to make sure you were okay.”
I nod and hum in agreement.
“Mia?”
“Yes,” I say, a little too loudly. I look at my closed door. “I’m fine. Working on something for the newspaper now, so at least I can do that.”
Eli grows silent, and I don’t speak, wondering how long he can get away with staying on his phone.
It doesn’t matter if we don’t talk, only that he’s there.
“Mia.”
Every time he says my name, it sounds like the first time, when I didn’t realize he knew who I was.
“Eli. Hey, can I ask you something?”
I’m surprised he can hear me, because my whisper is so soft I can hardly hear my own voice, the words slipping out before I can think too much about them.
“Anything.”
He sounds so sure, as if he doesn’t expect I’ll ask him something he won’t be able to answer.
Something he won’t want to answer.
“Why did you talk to me in the first place? I mean, I don’t exactly stand out.”
He makes a sound that comes across as a snort, but less obnoxious, and barely audible.
“You do, Mia. You do.”
I wait for him to elaborate, but he doesn’t, and while I want to ask him the larger question, the one about his reasons for the detentions and suspensions, the altercations with the vice principal, his relationship with his parents . . . I don’t want to break this silence.
Or push him away.
“I’ll check my phone in a few hours, okay? I don’t think they’ll take it away, but if they catch me on it, they might.”
I want to ask him more, about his new school, about next week . . . if he’ll be able to come over and hang out with me while my parents are gone.
“Thanks for letting me know, Eli.”
I press my lips together so I don’t go on, so I don’t tell him I miss him.
That I wish I could see him right now.
Would he want to hear that, or would it sound like pressure when he’s made it clear he can’t be there for me, although he wants to?
It’s only for a few hours, and then, a few days.
Once my parents are gone . . .
“I’ve really let them down this time, and I wish they’d be more angry about it. I don’t know what is going to happen now, and honestly, I’m afraid. Because I don’t know.”
I know exactly what he means, although our situations are so different.
I’ve never known what was going to happen next, because I’ve never had a say in it.
I’ve always gone along with what I’ve been told.
He hasn’t.
“We’ll figure it out, Eli. I promise.”
We have to, because now, after years of not having control over any aspect of my life, I have something important to solve, something only I can do to help someone in trouble.
And a boy who might not know what comes next any more than I do, but who I hope will be along for the ride.
Chapter Twenty Four
I text Eli once, telling him when my parents are leaving for their cruise, but he doesn’t respond by the time I turn off my bedroom light and crawl under the covers of my unmade bed.
My mother saw the state of my room when she checked on me after dinner, and managed not to hurl criticism over the unusual messiness.
She might, however, have been tired after her unsuccessful efforts to get me to eat a disgusting mass of pasta and cheese my sister would have pushed away at first sight.
“This is new.”
My father, scratching at his neck as he stared into the full casserole dish set neatly in the middle of the dining room table, had seemed at a loss for words after this single comment, and my mother waved a hand in the empty air in front of her as if casting a spell.
“Nothing wrong with trying something different now and again. Mia, I can hear your stomach growling, so don’t try to tell me you aren’t hungry.”
I sat on my hands, not even tempted by the smell or sight of the horror she had created.
Instead of yelling at me, she let me sit quietly as she and my fat
her ate in small bites, as if they were unsure of this unprecedented foray into the realm of macaroni and cheese as I was.
I waited for my mother to mention how long she would have to walk on the treadmill to burn off the hideous amount of calories she was stuffing into her face, although she was taking tiny nibbles from her fork, but she didn’t.
“It’s . . . good. Comforting, in a way.”
My father cleared his plate as if he was starving.
I couldn’t watch him eat any more of it, and I could see my mother was struggling to take bite after tiny bite.
I left without a word, leaving my chair pulled away from the dining room table and rushing up to my room before either of them could stop me.
The house smells like grease and cheese now, and I have to chug a cupful of water from the bathroom sink faucet to wash the taste from my throat.
The room isn’t completely dark, not with my curtains pushed aside and the moon and stars flickering white light through the trees and onto my walls.
Cassidy and Sarah are coming to visit me the week after next.
I remember this suddenly, and curl into myself, smiling at the idea of the two of them swooping in to save me, just as my parents return from their trip.
Eli doesn’t want to run away with me, but I could run away, or run to, either of my sister’s best friends.
If not now, eventually. When they’ve settled somewhere.
Cassidy has time left in the Air Force, but she might stay and continue to travel, and Sarah is nearly finished with graduate school.
Would they want me?
Loving me because I’m Kayla’s little sister is one thing, but would they want me as a responsibility, every day, living in their personal space?
My thoughts become muddled and my head grows fuzzy, my dreams rushing in to fill my mind and heart with images of Kayla, Cassidy, and Sarah from my childhood, of the way the two of them defended her at Kayla’s calling hours at the funeral home, of Sarah’s conflicted emotions over dating Danny, who hosted the party where Kayla overdosed.
They would love Eli, I’m thinking as my eyes flutter open, and I smile into the sunlight as it creeps across my bed, determined to spend today working on the mystery of the student-teacher relationship along with a story for the newspaper.
