After (Parallel Series, Book 4)

by Christine Kersey

  Anyone who had a phone out quickly put it away.

  “This is the room you’ll be in all week,” he said. “You are to sign in when you arrive. Do not try to go to another one of the detention rooms or you won’t get credit for being there.”

  How many rooms are being used, I wondered. Then I remembered the principal saying that twenty percent of the students had refused to be weighed. That meant over one hundred would be sitting in detention this week.

  A smile grew on my face at the thought.

  “At least we got some homework done,” Billy said as we left detention an hour later.

  “Yeah.” But it was much more fun when Billy and I were able to sit by ourselves and work on our homework together.

  We climbed into Rochelle’s car, and I was grateful she was willing to drive us home. Otherwise I would either have to walk, or have Mom pick me up. No buses came this late after school.

  As we pulled out of the student parking lot and drove past the main parking lot, a car parked in the main lot caught my eye. Something about it looked familiar, but I couldn’t place it. My thoughts turned to Holly and when she would want to start shooting the PSA, and all thoughts of the car left my mind.

  “Do you want to come in?” I asked both Billy and Rochelle when we arrived at my house.

  “Sure,” Billy said.

  “I can’t,” Rochelle said. “I promised my mom I’d help her with some stuff.”

  Billy and I told Rochelle good-bye, then went into my house.

  The moment we walked in, Amy hurried to me with a smile on her face. “Holly called.” She handed me a slip of paper. “She wants you to call her back.” She paused. “Do you think I can do the commercial with you?”

  I didn’t want to do it at all, but maybe if Amy was there too I could avoid having to say anything that I would really object to. Not that I wanted my younger sister to have to say anything I didn’t like, but at least no one would call her a hypocrite. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Awesome.” She dashed out of the room, leaving Billy and me alone.

  “I know what you’re doing,” Billy said.

  “What?”

  “You’re trying to get Amy to take your place doing the PSA, right?”

  I grinned. “The thought had crossed my mind.”

  He laughed. “For some reason—and I think I know what it is—Holly wants you to do it.”

  “Oh yeah? Why does she want me to do it so badly?”

  “Because everyone saw you arguing with her and she probably thinks that if you do a PSA, then that will neutralize what you were trying to say.”

  I hadn’t really thought of it that way, but it made sense. And it made me even more determined to avoid doing it at all. To emphasize my decision, I wadded up the piece of paper with Holly’s number and threw it in the trash. “Are you hungry?” I asked Billy as he watched me with a grin.

  Chapter 38

  Billy

  Morgan made me smile, I had to give her that. Sometimes she did stuff I didn’t think was smart—like trusting Jack and Dani, and going back into Camp Willowmoss—but I knew she always had a good reason to do the things she did.

  I held back a laugh as she firmly closed the cabinet door where she’d thrown Holly’s number in the trash. Though she was only postponing the inevitable, I couldn’t blame her. I didn’t want her moving to another school anymore than she did, but I also didn’t like that she was being coerced into doing another PSA for the Healthy Lifestyles Organization.

  “Yeah,” I said. “I could eat.”

  She laughed. “I think you’ve put on a few pounds since you came here.”

  I smiled. I knew what she meant. I had gained a few pounds since arriving in her world. It was easy since I could pretty much eat whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted. I’d always been underweight so the extra calories had been needed, but I still made sure to get enough exercise—running from Tasco’s house to Morgan’s usually filled my quota—so I believed I was doing what I should be.

  Morgan rummaged around in the refrigerator, then handed me an apple.

  “Thanks.” I took a bite of the crunchy, sweet fruit.

  Closing the fridge, she turned to me with a smile. “So, what are we going to do about my dad and Tasco?” She sunk her teeth into her apple.

  “Why do we have to do anything about them?”

  After swallowing, she said, “You know, the whole SlenderBars campaign they’re working on.”

  “I know what you’re talking about. I just don’t know why it’s up to us to save the world.” I paused as I ate another bite of apple. “Don’t you get tired of being the only person who cares?”

  She sighed. “Yes. I do, actually. Which is why I’m glad I’m not the only person who cares. You do too, right?”

  I gazed at her as I considered her question. I cared, yes, but how much did I care? Morgan seemed to feel much more passionately about what was happening than I did. “I guess so.”

  Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open. “You guess so? What? Why don’t you know so, Billy?”

  Our gazes locked, and as I stared at her I wondered the same thing. Why didn’t I feel as strongly as she did about the school doing these forced weigh-ins? Or the government changing the rules regarding what food we’d be able to buy at school?

  Maybe it was because my problem had never been with my weight, but rather getting food at all. After my parents had kicked me out because they didn’t want to have to take care of me, I’d resorted to breaking into the schools at night so I could get enough food to stay alive. I’d only been sent to the F.A.T. center as punishment for stealing. It had never been about weight for me.

  Besides, Morgan was the one at the center of this fight. I’d stayed by her side—and I always would—but it wasn’t really about me.

  “Look,” I finally said. “You know I support you and I’ll do whatever I can to help you, but this isn’t my fight.”

  Placing her hands on her hips, she shook her head. “Then what is your fight?”

  “My fight is . . . was . . . to stop the government from locking people up in the F.A.T. centers.”

  “But don’t you see? That’s exactly where we could be headed.”

  Even though I could see her point, it seemed so far off, and honestly, pretty unlikely when I looked around and saw how much people valued their freedom to eat whatever, whenever, they liked. It was hard to imagine things getting to that point.

  “You don’t think it will happen here, do you?” she said.

  “I guess anything’s possible,” I replied, then took another bite of the apple. “After all, who would have believed there was a parallel universe?”

  She arched her eyebrow. “Exactly.” Frowning, she gazed at me. “Don’t you see? It’s about government control. With these new initiatives, we can already see that happening. The government is trying to control our behavior and make choices for us.”

  When she put it that way it seemed much more obvious, and I realized I’d known it all along. I wondered why I hadn’t been more proactive, but quickly understood that I’d been too focused on adjusting to—and enjoying—this world and the freedoms it allowed. Freedoms that could potentially slip away if I didn’t help to change the direction we were headed.

  “I see what you mean,” I said.

  Morgan smiled. “Good.”

  “Did you call Holly back?” Morgan’s mom asked as she came into the kitchen.

  Morgan frowned. “No. And I’m not going to.”

  “Morgan, you know you have to talk to her. That was the agreement you made with the principal.”

  “I know. But I don’t have to talk to her today.”

  Smiling in a knowing way, her mom shook her head, then left us alone.

  “She’s right,” I said. “If you really want to avoid doing the PSA, you’re going to have to come up with something better than avoiding talking to Holly.”

  “I know,” Morgan said, then she smiled brightly
. “What if I’m too sick to do it?”

  I laughed. “That will work for a few days, but eventually you’ll either have to die or get better.”

  Morgan groaned. “This really sucks.”

  Chapter 39

  Morgan

  That evening after Billy had gone home, the phone rang. Thinking it was him, I picked it up on the second ring. “Hello?”

  “Hello, Morgan,” Holly said.

  I squeezed my eyes closed as I silently berated myself for letting my guard down. “Hey.” All the enthusiasm left my voice as I opened my eyes and stared at the counter. A stray crumb caught my eye and I brushed it into the sink.

  “I think it’s terrific that you’ve agreed to do another PSA, and I’m eager to get started right away.”

  I’ll bet you are. “Yeah, so I was wondering if Amy could be in this one too.”

  “Ah, I’m afraid the script just calls for one person, so not this time.” Holly’s voice brightened. “But I’m sure we can use her in a future PSA. She did a great job before.”

  “Maybe she should do it instead of me. You know, since she’s so good at it.”

  Holly laughed. “No. This spot was created especially for you.”

  I pursed my lips and shook my head. Billy was right. She’s going to make me pay for speaking out against her. Especially since it was on the news. Holding back a sigh, I readied my excuse as to why I’d need to postpone starting.

  “The script is ready to go,” she said. “So I’d like to start right away. What’s your schedule like this week?”

  Besides detention for refusing to do your stupid weigh-in, it’s wide open. “Uh, I have plans this week.”

  “Oh, that’s too bad. Hmm. Well, I suppose we can start on Saturday.”

  The ‘I have plans this week’ excuse worked so well, I decided to try it again. “You know, doing this PSA was kind of last minute, and I’m kind of booked up for the next little while.”

  Holly laughed, but it rang with irritation. “This is important, Morgan. You’ll just have to squeeze me into your busy schedule.”

  Not likely. “I’ll have to get back to you, Holly.” It seemed like I was in control, and I liked the way it felt.

  “Don’t take too long.”

  “Okay. I’ll call you when I find an opening in my schedule.”

  “All right. Good-bye then.”

  “Bye.” I hung up the phone and it felt like a small weight had been lifted from my mind.

  “Who was that?” Amy asked.

  I looked at her earnest face and felt bad about the news I was about to deliver. “Holly.”

  “Oh.” Her eyes glowed with excitement. “What did she say? Can I be in the PSA?”

  I smiled gently. “I asked her if you could, and she said you did a great job, but she said this time the script calls for just one person.”

  Disappointment crowded out the excitement. “Oh.”

  Desperately wishing Amy could take my place, I put a hand on her shoulder. “She said you could probably be in the next one though.”

  Hope swept away the disappointment. “Really? She said that?”

  “Yes, she really did.”

  “Awesome! Thanks, Morgan.”

  With any luck the whole PSA thing would magically disappear and neither one of us would have to do it, but at least Amy was happy again. “You’re welcome.”

  “What’s going on?” Mom asked as she joined us.

  “I get to be in a PSA,” Amy said. “Not this one,” she quickly amended. “This one is just Morgan’s. But maybe the one after that.”

  “Oh?” Mom looked at me. “Was that Holly on the phone?”

  I nodded.

  “When do you start?”

  “Uh, I told her I’d get back to her.”

  Mom’s eyebrows pulled together. “And she accepted that?”

  “Don’t you want to do it?” Amy asked, obviously confused as to how that could possibly be.

  “Not really,” I said in answer to both Mom and Amy.

  “Why not?” Amy asked.

  The corners of my lips lifted in a smile, but I couldn’t maintain it. “It’s kind of complicated.”

  “Oh.”

  “Don’t you have a book report to write?” Mom asked Amy.

  “Yeah.”

  I watched her trudge out of the room, then I faced Mom.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “Trying to avoid doing the stupid PSA.”

  Mom smiled. “That’s obvious. But eventually you’re going to have to do it.”

  “I know. But why can’t I postpone it as long as possible?”

  “Why not just get it over with?”

  “Because once I do it, it will be on TV, and that’s what I’m trying to avoid.”

  “I see.” She gazed at me. “I know you feel strongly about the message they’re putting out. Strongly against it.” She paused. “Maybe you made the wrong choice in agreeing to do the PSA.” She smiled, gently ran her finger along my face, then turned and left the room.

  Had I made the wrong choice? Should I have chosen to change schools? But how could that be the right choice? The thought of moving to a school where I didn’t know anyone—where Billy wouldn’t be—made my heart pound in fear. Agreeing to do the PSA was the easier choice. Especially if I could actually avoid doing it.

  By Wednesday morning I hadn’t heard from Holly and I hoped she would lose interest in me and find someone else to do her PSA.

  As I walked to the detention room that afternoon I heard some kids behind me grumbling about wasting their time and how they were just going to do the weigh-ins the next month.

  I stopped and turned to the kids. “Why not just opt-out?”

  “My parents wouldn’t sign the form,” one boy said.

  “Mine either,” another boy said.

  “Mine signed it,” the girl with them said with a smile.

  “I’m not going to do detention again,” the first boy said. “I’d rather just do the stupid weigh-ins. It takes, like, ten seconds. Detention is taking hours.”

  Though I could see his point, I also thought he was missing the whole idea of refusing. “But don’t you think it’s wrong that they’re making us get weighed in the first place?”

  “Are you saying that you’re willing to go to detention every month?” the second boy asked.

  “If I had to, yeah.”

  “Did your parents sign the opt-out form?” the girl asked.

  Almost reluctantly, I nodded.

  “There you go,” the first boy said. “You won’t have to go to detention or be weighed, so it’s easy for you to say that.”

  It wasn’t easy at all. They had no idea the dilemma I’d found myself in—either do the PSA or change schools. That was a much harder choice than whether or not to go to detention. But I couldn’t tell them that. They probably didn’t care anyway.

  “Well, I guess you have to do what you think is right,” I said, then turned around and continued walking to the detention room.

  Billy and Rochelle were already there, so I sat by them after I signed in. We didn’t speak, but just pulled out our homework.

  When we were dismissed, the three of us walked out of the school and toward Rochelle’s car.

  “I’ll be glad when this week’s over,” Rochelle said as she turned on the engine and backed out of her space.

  “I know,” Billy said from the backseat. “I hate sitting there and not being able to say anything. At least at Camp Willowmoss they let us talk.”

  My head whipped in his direction, and when our eyes met, his were wide, like he’d just realized what he’d said.

  “Camp Willowmoss?” Rochelle said, glancing at him in her rearview mirror. “What’s that?”

  “Uh, it’s, uh, this place I went one summer.”

  “What did you do there?”

  “You know,” he stammered. “Regular stuff.”

  “Oh.”

  “Morgan,” he said. �
�Are you still coming over to my house today?”

  “Uh, yeah.” We hadn’t made any plans for me to come over, but I played along. “We can work on that paper for health class.”

  “Great.”

  Rochelle didn’t ask any other questions about Camp Willowmoss, and a few minutes later we pulled up to Tasco’s house.

  “Thanks for the ride,” I said to Rochelle.

  “No problem,” she said.

  We said our good-byes, then went into Tasco’s house.

  Billy threw his backpack to the floor. “I can’t believe I said that.”

  “It’s okay. As far as she knows it’s just some summer camp you went to. It’s not a big deal.”

  He shook his head. “I’ve gotten too comfortable here and I let my guard down.”

  I went to the front window and stared out at the chilly January afternoon, hoping I was right and that Rochelle wouldn’t push to find out anything else about Camp Willowmoss. My gaze roved the neighborhood—at least as far as I could see from where I stood. There wasn’t much activity to see, so when a white car turned onto Billy’s street and slowed as it passed his house, I took notice. I couldn’t make out the driver, but I could see there was no one else in the car besides the driver.

  Narrowing my eyes, I thought it looked like the same car I’d seen in the school’s main parking lot on Monday afternoon. I watched it slowly cruise down the street until it was out of sight. Once it was out of my view, it hit me, and I knew where I’d seen the car before.

  Parked in front of Billy’s parents’ house, and then again at the cemetery. It looked just like the car Billy’s parents drove.

  Chapter 40

  Morgan

  I turned from the window to see Billy sitting on the bottom step of the staircase, his head in his hands.

  Could that have been his mom or dad? I looked out the window again, willing the car to come back so I could get a better look, but the street stayed empty.

  I must be mistaken. After all, there are a lot of white Toyota Corollas around. It could have been anybody. But it was strange how it seemed to slow down when it passed Tasco’s house.