Under the Moon

by Deborah Kerbel

  Her job as my mother? What, am I just some kind of work assignment? I force myself to swallow a mouthful of mashed-up Cheerios. “Fine. Whatever,” I mumble. Go ahead and try to stop me. I’ve still got a window, you know.

  As if she’s reading my thoughts, Mom slides a perfectly manicured finger under my chin and raises my face up ’til I’m forced to meet her gaze.

  “Just in case this conversation slips your mind, Lily — I’ll be installing a lock on your bedroom window first thing tomorrow. And another one on your bedroom door. To help you remember.”

  A lock on my bedroom door? Just like when I was a toddler. I jerk my chin away. “Fine. Whatever.” There’s no sense arguing with her when she’s like this.

  Mom’s eyes rake sideways across my body. “And what are you wearing? Did your father get you a new coat?”

  Huh? I look down at myself.

  Ben’s jean jacket.

  “It’s much too big. Tell him to take it back and get you a smaller size. You’re almost sixteen, for goodness’ sake. Does that man really think you’re still growing?”

  I close my eyes and pray for the room to stop spinning. “I don’t know …”

  She heaves out an exasperated breath.

  “Tell me, have you figured out what to do with those disgusting ashes yet?”

  “Oh God, Mom, please don’t do this now …”

  I can hear the sound of her fingers drumming on the tabletop. “You know, I stopped by her cabin today.”

  My eyes pop open. Something about her voice is warning me to be on guard. “Yeah, so?”

  Her slipper begins to pick up the frantic beat again (naturally, in perfect time with her tapping fingers). “So, I didn’t realize how decrepit that place had become,” she continues. “I mean, it’s leaning over like it might collapse any moment. And the inside is so musty and damp, I almost choked on the air. I’m afraid to find out what kind of toxic mould is growing behind those walls.”

  I hold up a hand to make her stop. I think I’m having another one of those palpitations. My heart is fluttering so hard, it feels like there’s a hummingbird trapped inside my chest. “You’re exaggerating. It’s not that bad!”

  “Oh, no?” she asks, her voice rising to a near screech. And her slipper is hammering the floor so hard, I’m sure she’s going to make a dent. “Well, then how about the marijuana plants growing all over the garden? Did you know about those? Your beloved aunt was practically running a grow-op out there!”

  “Mom, don’t even …”

  “First thing Monday morning, I’m going to speak to Mr. Duffy about having it condemned.”

  My mouth falls open. “What are you talking about? The garden?”

  “Don’t be stupid, Lily. I’m talking about the cabin. Every single thing about that place is a hazard. Not to mention illegal.”

  I feel like my heart is trying to pound its way out of my body. Ignoring my spinning head, I push off from the table and somehow make it up to my feet. “You’ve got to be joking! You actually want to have her cabin torn down?”

  Her head swivels back and forth on her skinny neck. “It’s not that I want to, Lily. I have to. Trust me, it should have been done years ago.”

  Jeepers creepers! I want to shake her by the shoulders and demand she tell me where she buried her heart. “How can you even suggest this? That cabin was Aunt Su’s whole, entire world! Tearing it down would be like … like having her die all over again!”

  “Lily, listen to me …”

  “No!” I squeeze my eyes shut, blocking her out of my sight. I’m so angry, I can’t even stand to look at her. “You listen to me for once! That cabin belongs to me now! Do you understand? Me! Mr. Duffy even said so! And nobody’s going to touch it without my permission!”

  Pushing back my chair, I rocket to my feet and bolt out of the kitchen before she can see the expression of complete and utter hatred on my face. I go straight upstairs, slip my arms out of the sleeves, and tuck Ben’s jean jacket under my pillow right next to Aunt Su’s drawing. The two things the EMS workers are going to find under my lifeless, exhausted body when they come to toe-tag me. The image brings a sickening wave of panic rolling through my stomach. My heart is still galloping like racehorse. But of course, it’s “nothing to worry about” — right Dr. V? I glance over at the pomegranate jar sitting on my desk. And then a horrible image of Aunt Su’s cabin getting bulldozed to the ground slithers through my thoughts. With a sob, I stagger to the bathroom and heave up a toiletful of Cheerios and tears.

  This is day (night) nineteen without sleep.

  I’m officially living on borrowed time.

  A Short and Very Angry Note from Me

  General MacArthur went ahead and did it.

  I know … big surprise, right?

  Yup, just like she promised, the locksmith arrived first thing yesterday morning before I was even fully awake. While he was setting up my prison cell, I grabbed the phone, staggered out to the backyard, and called up Mr. Duffy. I didn’t even care that it was a weekend. I had to ask him if the General has the right to bulldoze Aunt Su’s cabin, since it is, after all, my bequeathing property now. He said no, she doesn’t have the right to bulldoze it. Which, as you can imagine, made me feel way better.

  For about a nanosecond.

  Because then he went on to say something like “not without just cause.” When I asked what that meant, he told me if the building doesn’t meet provincial safety standards, Mom has the right to report it to the authorities and request that it be condemned. Apparently, she doesn’t need permission from the owner (insert my name here) to do that.

  That’s when the angry, itchy rash began spreading over my insides.

  “And what if it’s condemned?” I asked Mr. Duffy, “What happens then?”

  “Then no person will be allowed within thirty metres of the cabin. And the municipality can order it torn down if necessary.”

  Ça craint!

  I told him to expect a call from my mother first thing the next morning. Believe you me, Mr. Duffy sounded none too pleased about that little tidbit of information. Then I got him to promise me he’ll stall the filing process for a few days. Hopefully, that’ll give me some time to get the cabin up to standard. I won’t let it be condemned. You, my friend, are now an official witness … because I swear on Aunt Su’s pomegranate jar-of-ashes that I will not let my mother get away with this.

  All I have to do now is figure out how to stay alive long enough to stop her.

  FOURTEEN

  September 16th

  I’ve spent every minute of the last two days and nights trying to figure out a way to save Aunt Su’s cabin from the heartless, controlling beast that calls herself my mother. Yeah, I was so busy obsessing over it, I almost missed noticing when Ms. Pinski finally caught herself a fly Monday morning. I guess it was only a matter of time — Ben’s been struggling to stay awake in our first-period trig class since the first day of school. And I totally saw it coming just seconds before it happened, ’cause he was snoring loud enough to pull my eyes away from the clock above the blackboard, where I’d been watching the remaining seconds of the little cabin’s doomed existence tick by. And his head was bobbing up and down like a cork on the waves. I kicked the underside of his chair and poked him between the shoulder blades with my pencil to wake him up. See? That’s how nice of a person I can be. But it was too late. I swear, Pinski’s voice was squeaking with excitement when she caught him. Like so many math teachers, she has a secret sadistic side.

  “I’m sorry, are we keeping you up, Mr. Matthews?”

  Ben was slapped with a week’s worth of detention. Got off pretty easy, if you ask me. But then, good-looking people always seem to get off easy, don’t they?

  I catch up to him after class by his locker. “Hey, Ben.” He half glances my way but doesn’t seem to see me. I crank my voice up a notch, just in case the drone of hallway chatter is drowning out my words. “So, sucks about that detention, huh?”


  This time he definitely hears me. “Yeah. It sucks,” he says, but he still isn’t looking at me and his voice sounds like it’s light years away from his answer. Something’s wrong.

  “Ben?”

  His face tilts down toward mine and I watch as his pupils slowly ease into focus. It almost seems as if he’s sleepwalking. He looks so tired — like all he wants to do is lie down and rest. And there’s something else in his eyes that’s never been there before. If I didn’t know better, I’d say it was panic. But that doesn’t make any kind of sense; why would Ben be freaking out over something as minor as a detention? Forgetting about my own problems, I suddenly find myself consumed with the overwhelming urge to help him. He’s like a big puppy in a rainstorm. So completely adorable and so totally pathetic all at once. It’s irresistible. I want to wrap my arms around him and give him a hug. But of course, I’m not about to do that. Not with the whole school watching. So instead, I lean against his locker and lower my voice so nobody else can hear.

  “Hey, why don’t you just tell Pinski about your job at the drive-thru? Maybe if she knew, she’d cut you a bit of slack about the sleeping thing.”

  He shakes his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  Well, I’m not going to give up that easily. Believe you me. And yes, I admit it: my stubborn streak is something I inherited from Mom. I poke my finger against the little magnetic mirror stuck to the inside of the open locker beside his. “Look at yourself here, Ben. You can’t even keep your eyes open for more than a few minutes. It’s like you’re a walking zombie.”

  But he ignores the mirror and me and focuses instead on loading books into his backpack. One at a time … painfully slowly. Like he’s trying to drive me crazy.

  God, why is it so much easier to talk to him when we’re alone together at night?

  And then I have an idea so genius I blurt it out without even thinking it through. “Hey, I know: why don’t you let me take a few shifts at McCool Fries for you so you can catch up on some sleep?

  I really thought that would make him smile — maybe even show a bit of gratitude for once. After all, I’ve been trying to save his ass around here since day one. But instead, he just shakes his head so hard it sends the little silver initial ring hanging around his neck swinging from side to side. He grabs the ring and squeezes it for a second before tucking it back inside the collar of his shirt. “Unh-uh. No. I can’t let you do that.”

  “Really, Ben, I don’t mind. I want to do it. Let me help you out.” I lower my voice another notch. “It’s like I told you last weekend, I’m awake all night anyway.”

  Okay, in hindsight I probably shouldn’t have been making offers like that. I mean, I am grounded, after all. There’s no way Mom is going to unlock my cage and let me go work the graveyard shift at McCool Fries. But I’m feeling like I have to help him. Like helping him out might make me forget about my own problems with sleep … and saving Aunt Su’s cabin. In the end, it doesn’t matter whether I can take the shift or not, because for whatever twisted reason, Ben is determined not to let me help him. Like, really determined.

  “No!” His voice cuts through me like a blade. It’s so loud, I actually jump back with surprise. When he looks up from his books, his eyes are hard again. Just like they were that first night I met him. As if that night we spent at the Docks never even happened. As if every conversation we’d ever had has been rubbed out by a giant eraser and we’ve gone right back to the starting line.

  “But —”

  Ben’s face goes dark. “I said no! Can’t you just drop it?”

  He’s full out hollering now. For a second, the hallway chatter freezes in mid-air while everyone looks around to see who’s getting reamed out. My cheeks flare up with heat as I suddenly feel every pair of eyes zero in on me. I notice Todd Nelson standing a few metres away. His eyes are bouncing between me and Ben and his face is all clenched like a fist. A second later, he starts marching towards us. To his credit, he only stumbles once.

  “Are you okay, Lily?”

  Oh, spare me. Not the white-knight-coming-to-the-rescue-ofthe-damsel-in-distress thing.

  “Yes, I’m fine, Todd.” I force a half smile so he’ll believe me. It doesn’t seem to work. He takes a step closer to Ben. “Are you sure this new guy’s not bothering you?” he grunts.

  I put my hands on his shoulders and give him a gentle push back in the opposite direction. “No, Todd, he’s not bothering me. You can go now. He’s just way overtired.”

  Luckily, Todd takes the hint and leaves. But when I turn back around, I see the backside of Ben striding off down the hallway. I sprint to catch up. “Ben, wait,” I say, taking his arm. He stops walking and swings around to look at me, eyes flashing with anger. When he speaks, his voice is a growl of warning. “God, Lily! I really wish you wouldn’t go around telling everyone about my problems. Didn’t I ask you to drop it?”

  Okay, this is getting to be too much. All I wanted to do was help.

  “I’m sorry … I-I just …”

  “That’s the point! I don’t want anyone feeling sorry for me … especially not you!”

  “I-I wasn’t feeling sor—”

  His palms fly up in front of my face, like a traffic cop trying to stop a speeding car. “I mean it! Just. Leave. Me. Alone!” And then he’s marching away down the hall again. This time I let him go. I can feel every nosy eyeball in that hallway watching me, waiting to see what I’m going to do. My eyes fall to the floor and I have to bite my lip to keep from yelling something stupid and hurtful after him.

  I’m so angry I don’t even notice Emma come up beside me until she puts a hand on my shoulder and gives it a pat. “It’s okay, Lily. Don’t let Ben get to you. He’s been acting like that to everyone since he moved here. You can’t take it personally.”

  I shake her hand off my shoulder and whirl around to face her. My cheeks are still burning with humiliation. “When someone treats me like crap, I can’t help taking it personally!” Because I know he’s out of earshot by now, I let my anger loose. “Ben Matthews is a total branleur!” I yell this at the top of my voice so that every single person in that hallway will hear me and understand exactly how much I hate him. Well, at least every single person who understands French curses. And for the benefit of those who don’t, I add this in English: “He’s a snob and a half, and he’s rude to everyone he meets.”

  Emma just smiles this strange smile that just makes me angrier than ever. The smile is so big, I can see breakfast scraps stuck in her braces. So big, I can see a few tiny little freckles dotting the pink of her gums. How awesomely weird is that? I’m on the verge of developing a new respect for Emma. And then she blows it by saying what is quite possibly the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard:

  “Funny, I think you guys make a perfect match.”

  A perfect match? I’m so shocked, I can barely squeak out a simple one word answer. “W-why?”

  “Can’t you see it?” she continues, enjoying my reaction. “It’s so obvious. You two are exactly alike.”

  I feel like I’ve just been punched in the stomach. “We are not!” I hiss, looking around to see if anyone else has heard her. “We are absolutely nothing alike! For starters, I’m not rude, arrogant, or a snob.”

  “Okay, so what are you, then?” Emma asks, folding her arms in front of her chest like a lawyer cross examining a guilty witness. “Why is it that you haven’t spoken to anyone in this school since, like, kindergarten?”

  My mouth hangs open.

  “I’m … I’m just … introverted.”

  Introverted. The word escapes my lips in a whisper. It’s almost as if Aunt Su’s warning is ghosting through my brain.

  Better get used to a snooty reputation, Lily-girl.

  I lean back against the locker and squeeze my eyes shut. Me and Ben, exactly alike? Really? And then my shoulders sag with the awful weight of it and I know it’s true. Tabernac. How could Emma have seen it while I missed it so completely? That’s
totally why I can’t stop thinking about him. We are so completely and utterly alike. The only difference is that I know exactly why I push people away.

  What’s Ben’s excuse?

  FIFTEEN

  September 19th

  Everything reminds me of Ben these days. It’s absolutely, positively, mind-bendingly infuriating! After the big, ugly blow-up at his locker, I’ve been doing everything in my power to avoid him. I ignore him when we pass in the halls, act like he’s invisible when I see him in the cafeteria, and pretend he’s the equivalent of absolute zero in trig class. Basically, I’ve done everything I know how to cut him out of my thoughts. But it’s like the more I stay away from thinking about him, the more he takes over my brain. I can’t even read a book without picturing his face in my head or hearing his voice in my ears. I’ve been stuck on the same paragraph of Aunt Su’s Summer of Love for an hour now.

  Jason was one of many. But then, so was I. His face rose out of the crowd like the sun coming up over the horizon. One look and I was gone. Blinded. The crowd blurred into the background as he came toward me.

  Merde.

  Guess reading a romance novel isn’t exactly the best way to forget a guy. With a sigh, I let the book fall into my lap and turn my face toward the window. There’s another half moon tonight. I watch it with squinty eyes, trying to make out the part that’s been swallowed up by the sky. I wish I had a telescope so I could get a better look. It’s weird, but in a way the half moon sort of reminds me of Ben — one part open to the world, the other part a dark, shadowy secret.

  See, there I go again! This is nuts! There must be something I can do to squeeze this guy out of my thoughts. I stare down at the phone that’s lying on the floor beside me. If Aunt Su were still here, she’d know how to help. I know this for a fact. Jeepers creepers, my heart hurts just thinking her name. Suddenly, a giant wave of loneliness crashes down over my head. Tears fill my eyes. Here I am, facing imminent death by exhaustion, and not one person on the planet to talk to about my problems.