by Mary Strand
Everyone else kept laughing. They couldn’t be laughing at the band, because no one would dare laugh at Kirk and hope to live. It couldn’t be me, either. I’d sung the whole first verse and chorus, hadn’t I? I’d done fine. So when Kirk started playing his guitar again, and even Mary followed, I started the second verse.
The laughter got even louder.
But it wasn’t coming anymore from invisible bodies in the inky darkness. The bodies had moved closer. They weren’t up here to dance, though. They were standing right in front of me. Pointing at me. Laughing. Hysterically.
“Oh. My. God.”
“Tess! How’d you know she’d fall for it?”
Tess was in the middle of the throng, jumping up and down and screaming, tears of laughter streaming down her face. “Cat, you’re such an idiot!”
I stood there, wanting to die, feeling my whole body shrivel in on itself. And then it did.
The whole room swirled around me, the laughing faces bobbing and weaving like a caricature of themselves, until the inky darkness suddenly went even darker than before.
A guitar clanged as it hit the floor, and someone’s arms caught me—or maybe not—as I went down right where I stood, collapsing in a blacked-out heap.
With any luck, I was dead.
Chapter 15
“I am not going to run away, Papa,” said Kitty fretfully.
— Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice, Volume III, Chapter Six
“You have to get up, Cat. Now.”
Eyes scrunched closed, I swatted at the sound of Mary’s annoying voice. “You’re not my mother. So just leave me here, okay? I might as well die.”
“Actually, I am your mother.”
The voice suddenly didn’t sound at all like Mary, but I kept my eyes closed rather than find out for sure. Not that my life could possibly get any more humiliating, but if Mary really had called Mom to pick me up at Michael’s house, I was gonna kill her. Even with my eyes shut.
“I’m also not leaving you here, and you’re not going to die. Not before you finish high school and college, and then you should really focus on getting a good job.”
Soothing, maternal words. Not. Yep, had to be Mom. Mary was so dead.
Hands grasped my shoulders and shook lightly. Mom wasn’t into physical torture—thank God for small favors—but I couldn’t spend the rest of my life in the basement of Michael’s house. I had to get up, even if Tess and everyone else was still here.
Tess.
How could she hate me enough to do what she’d done to me? What had I ever done to her? Exist?
Another nudge. “I shouldn’t have let you stay in bed so long after you got home yesterday.”
In bed? Yesterday? I got home? Wasn’t I still lying on the basement floor at Michael’s?
My eyes flew open. No wonder the floor of Michael’s basement had felt so comfy, even if I’d told myself the carpeting must be thicker than it looked and some halfway decent person—Jeremy?—had propped sofa cushions around me.
The only cushions I felt, other than the pillow under my head, were Mom’s hips as she perched on the edge of my bed. My room was dark, but between the drawn shades and the fact that it was February, I didn’t have a clue what time it was. Or what happened after I fainted yesterday.
I glanced at my desk. Oh, yeah. Empty Chinese food carton. Groaning, I started to piece it all together. I remembered staggering in the door with help from Mary—not Jeremy—and going straight up to bed, wishing I had a lock on the door when Jane and Liz burst in with vegetable lo mein. I vaguely remembered blabbing the whole thing to them. And crying.
I groaned again.
Mom glanced at her watch. “I have a hearing this morning and need to get to work, and your father already left.” She made a tsking sound, so not everything had changed. “But you have just enough time to get dressed and eat. Mary will take you to school.”
No, she wouldn’t. I wasn’t going to that horrible, rotten school ever again. They could ship me off to reform school if they wanted. At least there I might have a friend.
Okay, it’d be Lydia, and I knew by now that she cared more about Lydia than anything else, but still. With Lydia, I didn’t have to watch my back.
“And, no, you’re not going to stay home.”
I frowned at Mom but didn’t bother to pretend she hadn’t guessed my thoughts. Like she said, she had to get to work. I could wait her out. Easily.
Before I had time to react, though, she grabbed my hand and pulled me up to a sitting position.
“Mom! I can—”
She kept pulling. My legs flew off the bed and my body followed. “Mary told us what happened, dear, and I’m sorry, but I warned you about those friends of yours. But your father let you go, and Mary was there, so I don’t understand how it could’ve gone so wrong. But it’s a new day, you have school, and Mary is waiting for you.”
I don’t think she even took a breath. No matter what else you could say about her, Mom had amazing lung capacity.
On my feet now, I crossed my arms. “I’m not going, and there’s no way Mary told you. If she had, you’d never send me to that stupid school again.”
“Schools aren’t stupid, dear.” Mom pulled me by the elbow to the door, then down the hall to the bathroom. “In any case, I prefer to think of this as a learning experience.”
If Mom seriously believed that what Tess did to me was a learning experience, she must’ve gone off her meds again.
Next to me at the sink, Mom tried to shove me into the shower. In my pj’s. Giving up, she reached behind me and turned on the shower, but when her hands went to the top button on my pj’s, I slapped her away.
“Fine.” She backed off a step but didn’t leave. “I suggest you hop in the shower, because school starts in twenty minutes. I’ll postpone my hearing if I have to, but if I have to, you’ll regret it.”
Big whoop. I regretted a lot of things. Like, right this moment, the fact that my parents hadn’t given me up for adoption.
After the shortest shower in the history of the world, I piled into the Jeep with Mary, Mom watching me every step of the way. She wouldn’t follow us to school, though, which was where I’d ditch Mary and everyone else in my putrid life.
I didn’t count on the crowd of kids gathered in the school parking lot or the fact that our principal, Mr. Paymar, was right in the middle of them.
He clapped his hands, trying in vain to get everyone to pay attention to him, and it wasn’t happening. As Mary pulled into a parking place and rolled to a stop, a dozen kids came running up. I had no idea what anyone was saying, but it couldn’t be good.
Kids clustered around the Jeep. No one I recognized from yesterday’s catastrophe with the band—and definitely no Tess—but also no one I considered a friend. I hit the lock on my door just as Mary opened hers.
Unlike me, she had someone to protect her. Josh came up to the driver’s-side door, and I watched as he put his arm around Mary and tried to hustle her away from the Jeep. The weird thing was, she didn’t move.
She motioned to me as if I was actually supposed to leave the Jeep. Ha.
When the warning bell rang, Mr. Paymar started shouting as he pulled his walkie-talkie out of the clip on his belt. A minute later, the Gym teachers, janitors, and campus cop strode out of the building, headed straight to the Jeep. The group got bigger, if anything. Despite the adults. Despite the bitter cold. Despite the sleet that had already put a thick coating on our hot-pink Jeep.
Next thing I knew, Mr. Paymar was at the passenger-side window, rapping on it, inches from my face.
“Cat? If you’ll come out, it’ll make things easier.”
Only in whatever hallucinogenic dream world Mr. Paymar must inhabit. I shook my head.
He rattled the door handle, which reminded me to lean across the front seat and hit the locks on the driver’s-side door. Sure, Mary had the keys, so she could open it, but every minute I had in the Jeep was a minute closer to the final bell.
Even Mary wouldn’t wait here for me and risk being tardy.
Finally, the crowd started to disperse. Mr. Paymar looked at his watch, then at me in the Jeep. By the time the final bell rang, everyone was gone except Mr. Paymar and the campus cop.
I didn’t budge an inch, even though Mr. Paymar glared at me through the passenger window. Despite the growing cold inside the Jeep, sweat started trickling down my neck.
He rapped again on the window. When the campus cop wrote a warning notice for loitering and slipped it under the windshield wiper, though, I reached into my purse and fished around for the key to the Jeep. I was so outta here.
I frowned. No key? Had I really left the house today without my secret spare key to the Jeep in my purse? I started pulling everything out. Wallet, gum, cell phone, candy wrappers, ticket stubs, keys—
Keys! But no Jeep key, even though I knew it’d been on this key ring. I’d kill Mary first chance I got, but it wouldn’t be anytime soon. By the time school got out today, I’d be long gone. I might even be in Montana.
Oh, wait. Wrong direction to drive in February.
I unlocked the door to the Jeep, got out, and brushed past Mr. Paymar and the campus cop, who ripped up the warning notice. I trudged into school without a word. When I cut left into the hall that led to my locker, Mr. Paymar’s footsteps headed away from me.
As I kept going, I wondered if this whole thing would’ve blown over if I’d gotten out of the Jeep with Mary and acted as if nothing had happened yesterday. After all, only twenty kids saw my humiliation, and maybe a few of them had a shred of decency.
Okay, doubtful. But still. This would blow over eventually, wouldn’t it? Like, by senior year? I could handle three and a half more months of this, couldn’t I?
I reached my locker, spun the dial, and opened it. As usual, a million things tumbled out, including a stupid friendship bracelet Tess gave me in ninth grade. I’d worn it every day of my life until this term, when Drew started hanging all over Chelsea and Tess started giggling whenever she saw me.
I stepped on the bracelet and crunched it with my boot.
Two minutes later, I’d stuffed everything I needed into my backpack and left my books and everything else that reeked of this school—including Pride and Prejudice—in my locker. At the last instant, I bent down to grab my drawing pad and pencils and shoved them in my backpack, too. I slammed my locker and took off. For home.
In search of another key to the Jeep.
I found the key in Mom’s jewelry box, beneath a string of pearls and baby pictures of the five of us girls. Lydia’s photo was on top, mine on the bottom. Figured.
Ten minutes later I found a stash of cash in Mom’s spare purse. I’d pay her back, but I was desperate and hadn’t gotten paid yet at Nickelodeon Universe. Besides, I didn’t exactly mind pissing Mom off. She sees this whole mess as a learning experience? Fine. Let her learn along with me.
I went to my bedroom to pack. The small duffle I’d packed a month ago was still sitting on the floor of my closet, untouched except by Liz, who’d never ratted me out. I should be grateful, but I didn’t have time for it. By now, the school had probably called Mom or Dad to report that I didn’t show up for first-period English, and I had to scoot.
I dumped the contents of the small duffle in a slightly bigger duffle, added more clothes, and headed downstairs. In the kitchen, I tossed in a few bottles of water, some bagels, and a bag of oranges, then groaned as I picked it up. Ugh. Heavy. I could walk back to school, grab the Jeep, and drive back here for my duffle, but a bad feeling told me I didn’t have that luxury. If Mom missed her court hearing, she’d drive to the ends of the earth to search for me. She’d send the police, too.
And possibly the FBI.
I hoisted the duffle over my shoulder, locked the front door behind me, and headed off to school by a different route from my usual path, which added a few blocks to my wheeze-inducing walk. Half an hour later, I made it to the school parking lot and blew out a breath of relief when I saw the Jeep. No Mom, no police, no boot on the rear wheel. Home free.
I twisted the key in the lock, sending a prayer of relief skyward when it unlocked the door. A moment later I tossed my duffle on the front passenger seat and hopped in, then turned the key in the ignition. After a quick glance in the rearview mirror, I backed out of the parking space.
When I paused to shift into forward, my escape suddenly got problematic.
I glanced over my shoulder just as Mr. Paymar came down the steps, striding toward me. But he was on foot, and I wasn’t. Too bad. I quit smirking when two cars pulled into the parking lot, one from each end. Dad was in his green Honda Civic and Mom in her smoky-gray Saab, which had looked good until the time she forgot her meds for a few days and decided to play bumper cars in the west parking ramp at the Mall of America.
Luckily, I was already pointed in the direction of Dad’s car. He wouldn’t ram me. Or probably not.
I waved as I shot past him, watching his jaw drop. Before he could react, I hit the accelerator hard and roared out of the parking lot. I didn’t have a plan, but I had a full tank of gas, and that had to count for something.
I knew I had to get out of Woodbury. I hit Highway 494, then 94 heading east. In fifteen minutes I was in Wisconsin, the same moment I realized I was behind the wheel of a hot-pink Jeep and could be easily spotted by whatever hounds of hell Mom and Dad sent after me. I didn’t have the cash or desire to hop on a Greyhound, which left me with only one option. And, boy, was it gonna piss off Dad.
My head whipped to both sides as I shot up the exit ramp. Target? No way. Mom and Dad had to know I’d either stay in Woodbury, head west on 94 toward Minneapolis, or head east on 94 to Wisconsin, which was just what I’d done. If they picked the third option—and, knowing them, they’d cover all three—the first place they checked would be Target.
Frowning, I turned right at the top of the second exit ramp in Hudson, Wisconsin, then right again onto the frontage road. A couple of blocks down, I spotted Home Depot. Perfect! But . . . not. Way too visible from the road. At the last moment, I swung a hard left, past County Market, through the Home Depot lot, and headed toward Menards. Tucked way off the road behind Home Depot, the humungo hardware store wouldn’t be spotted.
And neither would a hot-pink Jeep.
A minute later, I was in the Menards parking lot, hands clenched on the steering wheel and sweating as if the devil were after me—which, after all, she probably was. But Liz was the only girl in our family who’d actually shop at Menards, mostly just to hang out with Dad. The rest of us wouldn’t be caught dead here.
At least, I hoped that’s what Mom and Dad would figure.
I hopped out of the Jeep before I could think about it. Once inside, I wandered up and down aisles, trying to move as fast as I could without asking anyone for help. Did I look like I was still in high school and therefore skipping class? To be safe, I avoided eye contact with everyone I walked past. I needed help, but I couldn’t risk it.
Finally, I spotted salvation: a sign hanging from the ceiling in the far left corner of the store that read “Interior Stains & Removers.” It didn’t say “Paint,” but it was the closest thing I’d seen to what I wanted.
Salvation didn’t turn out to be that easy. I needed black paint. It had to cover hot pink and actually stick to the Jeep, especially on a cold winter day when we’d already had sleet. I glanced longingly at a row of spray paints, figuring they’d be fast and easy, before I thought of the windshield and all the windows on the Jeep. I needed to be able to see out the windshield to drive, and I didn’t need to be pulled over by some hyper-picky highway patrol.
I was at enough risk of that as it was.
I wandered up and down the aisles with no luck. White, white, and more white. Eggshell, whatever that was. Base, latex, enamel, primer, blah blah blah. I didn’t care what type it was, as long as it was black. I finally spotted outdoor paint, but it was just ten different types of reddish-brown. As in, fe
nces. Not Jeeps.
Ready to give up, I dragged my butt down the very last paint aisle. There, in the middle of the aisle, three rows up. Black paint. Several gallons of it.
Would one gallon do the job? I hoped so. And what kind of brush? Or a roller? Argh! This was worse than an art supply store! Closing my eyes, I grabbed the first roller I touched, one that came with a pan, which seemed like a good idea even though by now I just wanted to toss a gallon of black paint over the whole Jeep and be done with it.
I held my breath as I paid for the paint and roller set, plus a small brush and a large cloth. A few minutes later, I cruised out of the parking lot and got back on Highway 94 heading east. Hudson was close to Woodbury, and Mom must have every available cop or state patrol on my tail by now, so I had no time to waste.
Wait. I was on Highway 94. Talk about easy to find!
I took the River Falls exit and headed into farmland. One turn later, I pulled to the side of a narrow snow-covered road, hyperventilated, and got out of the Jeep. With last night’s snow and the sleet this morning, there weren’t any tracks on the road. I was as safe as I was going to get.
I grabbed the cloth and swiped it over the Jeep, trying to dry off the last of the dampness on the theory that paint might not stick to a wet Jeep. Actually, I had no idea if the paint I’d bought would stick to a dry Jeep, but I didn’t have many options. In a hot-pink Jeep, I was toast. In a black Jeep, even one with a butt-ugly paint job, I might have a chance.
Dad would definitely kill me when he caught me. I just didn’t want it to happen today.
After tossing the cloth back inside the Jeep, I grabbed the roller set and gallon of paint and got to work.
The temp was in the low teens this morning. A raw, biting wind made me wish I could stay in the Jeep, but I couldn’t. Mom, being a lawyer, knew which law-enforcement strings to pull. It didn’t help that Dad had this weird knack for knowing what his daughters were going to do, almost as if he were psychic. But I was gonna escape. Maybe not forever, but for as long as I could. I had some cash. If I could get a job, I could maybe stay away until the end of the school year.
