“What is it?” I asked casually, all my defense mechanisms kicking into gear.
“Dani says she saw you take something from your bag and put it on a shelf at the store.”
I froze. Dani? It was unlike Dani to be confused by something and not instantly ask me about it. Maybe it hadn’t struck her as strange until after the fact.
I forced a laugh. “Oh. Yeah.” I waved my hand and rolled my eyes.
“What’s the story there?”
I was about to make something up, like I was going to buy it for myself but changed my mind, but then remembered something my teacher told us in journalism class. All facts are friendly. Eliza had told me a story, and I would stick to that story.
“This girl Eliza stopped by the store today. She’s a friend of Camden’s. And mine, too, now. She’s Atticus Marr in the cosplay photos . . . Anyway, she told me she took this paint set off the shelf to buy, but then forgot to pay for it. So she gave it to me to put back until she can come in again.”
So okay, all facts may be friendly, but sometimes they sound too stupid to believe.
Mom put her thumb and forefinger on either side of her nose and squeezed. “Ari, I’ve had a long, stressful day and three hours in the car. Tell me your new friends are not stealing from the store.”
“They’re not stealing from the store.”
“But they tried.”
I burst into tears. It all came now, how angry I was at Eliza, how betrayed I felt. How Richard had given me this gift of a day and this was the thanks he got. “Just one. One of them tried.”
“This is the girl who’s arranging the trip to the convention? That MegaCon?”
“SuperCon. Yes, but . . .”
“You can see why I’m not comfortable with you going.”
I stood up. “You’re going to punish me for something she did?”
Mom looked stricken for a moment, then shook her head. “I’m not punishing you. But you want me to let you go on a road trip out of state to some convention with people like this?”
“Not people. Person! One person! Not Camden, not his friends Max or James. Kendall will be there. And Eliza may have her issues but she’s responsible. You’ve never even met her. Why don’t you meet her first?”
My mother sighed. “I would like to meet her. But this is all a moot point. The thing is, Ari, I found out that I have a required training session at work that Saturday. We need you to be with Danielle.”
It was as if this information was something she’d thrown into the air between us and lit on fire. We stood there for a speechless few seconds, watching it burn.
“You just found this out.”
“Well, I found out on Friday. But I hadn’t been able to bring myself to tell you yet. I knew how much you were looking forward to the convention.”
“It’s more than a ‘looking forward to’ thing, Mom. They’re depending on me for the group cosplay. . . .”
“Sweetie,” she said in a decidedly unsweetened tone. It was a tone that welcomed no more comments. “We’ll talk about this tomorrow, okay? I need to eat and your sister is waiting for you.”
She turned to leave, then stopped halfway out the door, turned back around.
“You had Dani with you when you put the paint set back. Exactly when did this girl give it to you?”
For the record, I didn’t want to lie. I’d gotten this far without it. But when you’re in a corner, you’re in a corner.
“She knew I picked up Dani at camp,” I said after a second, “so she found me there to give it back.”
Mom looked at me for a long time, then slowly closed her eyes. She took a deep breath.
“God, I’m tired.”
And then she left the room.
At first I thought Dani was asleep when I stepped through her doorway, and I thought, lucky break. But I must have put my weight on the One Creaky Floorboard and her eyes fluttered opened.
“Ari?” she asked.
“It’s me.” I sat on her bed. “Did you give Mom the lanyard?”
Her mouth curved down. “No. I left it at the store.”
I got it, then. Without this offering to the mother she hadn’t seen in twenty-four hours, something that would capture her attention and get a reaction, Dani had reached for a replacement. Perhaps that’s why she’d held on to what she saw me do at the store, knowing instinctively that it might have value. I’d done the same when I was her age. A hundred times over. A thousand.
But I’d never done it at the expense of someone else I loved. At least, I didn’t think so.
“Will you sing me a song?” she asked, her voice high and squeaky in the semidarkness.
“I thought you only wanted a kiss good night.”
“A kiss and a song. Two songs.”
She’d had Mom read to her, and Richard come in to chuck her on the chin and tell her she was beautiful. Why couldn’t these things give her what she needed? Why was it always my closing act that finally filled up her void to the brim?
“Not tonight,” I said, leaning down to kiss her on the curved part of her nose, the part that felt like it was on a doll’s face. “My throat hurts.”
I’ll admit it. It felt good to deny her, to withhold what she took for granted.
“But Ari . . .”
“I said no.” More firmly now. I’d committed. I couldn’t waffle.
“But . . .”
“No.”
Suddenly, it was her perfect little mouth expecting, her eyes wanting, her hands grabbing, that embodied everything I resented about my family.
Yes, the normal rules of give-and-take back-and-forth don’t apply to a seven-year-old child. Yes, she didn’t understand how it wasn’t simply a song but so much she had no control over. I knew that intellectually. But this one time, because she was here in front of me and because I could, I needed to spread out my empty palms and say, Sorry, kid, I’m all out.
It was what filled my void right then.
“Good night,” I said. “See you in the morning.”
Then I walked out before she could say anything back.
“Shit,” said Camden on the phone when I told him.
I was in bed with the covers over my head. Here, I could make the world consist only of me and the voice of a boy I loved.
“This is what my life is like.” I tried to keep from sounding completely beaten down. I didn’t want his sympathy; I just wanted someone to bear witness. “I mean, really. Am I their daughter or their au pair?”
“Don’t blame your sister. She’s a little kid.”
“That’s precisely why it’s easier to blame her.”
“Maybe you can find her a babysitter for the day.”
“Who would I call? We’ve never needed a babysitter because, you know, me.”
“We’ll figure something out,” he said confidently. “You are going to the SuperCon. You are.”
We were quiet for a moment. I heard him breathe, then crunch on something.
“What are you eating?”
“White cheddar cheese crackers.”
“Great. As if it wasn’t already hard enough, that I’m not there with you.”
He laughed, then there was more silence as Camden crunched. This seemed absurdly sexy. I pictured him at his kitchen counter, so sure everything was going to be fine, able to eat cheese crackers or drink wine or do whatever the hell he wanted without needing it to be preauthorized.
“You’re lucky you don’t have family bullshit to deal with,” I said with a sigh.
The crunching stopped. After a pause, Camden said earnestly, “You’re lucky you have a family to have bullshit with.”
I felt my ears turn red, glad he was not there to see it. I swallowed hard. “Point taken.”
“Sorry. My mom called a little while ago. It was a weird one. She’s feeling lonely.”
“What did she say?”
“She said, ‘I’m feeling lonely.’ She also said, ‘Come stay with me for the rest of the summer.’
”
I wasn’t moving, but I froze anyway.
“What did you say?”
“I said no.” He paused, and I heard him take a shuddering breath. “I guess there’s a first time for everything. But I don’t want to quit the hotline; they need me. I have responsibilities and plans. And you. She understood. Or at least, she did a good job of faking it.”
There was victory in his tone, like he’d struggled and won.
“Who’s there with you tonight?” I asked.
“Just Jamie. Eliza’s mad at me for not believing her about the paints, and Max didn’t want to get in the middle.”
I didn’t want to talk about Eliza. Hearing her name made all the Bad Things about the day come creeping into my little bed fort. By way of diversion I said, “You know, Kendall’s crushing hard on Jamie. She has no idea if the feeling is mutual.”
Camden started crunching again. “Jamie’s a hard one to read. He got his heart stomped on pretty hard last year. Do you want me to do some reconnaissance?”
“Sure,” I said. “No, wait. Don’t.” Then I thought of Kendall’s slumping shoulders at the beach, the way she’d said You’ve got your king. “Then again, yes. If you could casually mention something . . .”
“Done,” said Camden. “Kendall’s great. He shouldn’t leave her confused.”
“Thanks.” I didn’t want to hang up. It was snug and perfect under the covers, and Camden’s voice against my ear felt so very much mine. “What part of Time Enough did you get up to today?”
“Bram and Azor just got cast as extras in a gangster movie.”
“Oh, that’s a great scene. Will you read it to me?”
I could almost hear him smile on his end of the phone.
“Our phone calls keep getting weirder,” he said.
“Not weirder,” I said. “Better.”
He began to read.
I woke up late the next morning, after Mom had already left for work. On the kitchen counter was a shopping list for later, and instructions that I’d find Dani’s camp lunch and snacks in the fridge. I could hear Dani’s cartoons on the TV in the family room. Richard sat at the table, reading the paper with his coffee cup pressed to his chest like something precious.
He looked up at me with red eyes rimmed with dark circles. He wasn’t sleeping again. There was probably a blanket and pillow on the couch. So much for Mom’s bed-sharing promises.
“She told you about Eliza,” I said. Richard nodded. “I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry about. You did the right thing, by getting it back on the shelf. I get why you didn’t want me to know.”
“Thanks,” I said.
“But I told your mother about letting you go to the lake.”
“What? Why?”
“I had to. She guessed it and asked me point-blank. She’s my wife, Ari, I’m not going to lie to her. Especially not these days, when everything’s already so . . . difficult.”
I sank down onto a chair.
“I put it all on myself,” said Richard. “I explained how I urged you to go. So she’s mad at both of us, if that’s any consolation. But it means I can’t fight for you on this convention thing.”
I stared at him. He couldn’t look me in the eye.
“It’s a moot point anyway, with her training session—” he began.
“Yes,” I cut him off. “Mom gave me the same official line. You don’t need to repeat it.”
I never acted this way toward Richard. I never huffed or hissed or pouted. He looked genuinely hurt.
“Ari, this stuff is not easy for me,” he said, rubbing his eyebrow. “I try not to get between you and your mother. I don’t have a right. But I see things that should have been dealt with a long time ago, before your depression, and they’re still not dealt with, and it scares me.”
It scares me, too, I wanted to say. And also, What things?
“Thanks for sharing,” was all I did say, avoiding his glance. This was too much, too much when I was already running so late I didn’t have time to eat breakfast and I was wearing the same clothes as yesterday and Camden’s voice reading Time Enough still echoed in my ear. I grabbed the car keys and shouted down to Dani. “We’re leaving in two minutes! Your shoes had better be on!”
“Ari?” asked Richard, turning my name into an open-ended question.
I grabbed Dani’s lunch and snack from the fridge, stuffed them in Dani’s backpack and zipped it up, then grabbed my bag.
“See you at the store,” I snapped, rushing to the foyer to find Dani struggling with her shoes. I bent down and shoved one on, then the other, then opened the door for her. All without looking her in the eye. Miraculously, she followed.
We were both quiet in the car on the way to camp. Now that I’d given myself permission to resent my sister, she seemed suddenly much older, more restrained. I kept waiting for her to ask about what she saw at the store, or to tell me I’d been a big fat meanie last night. I wanted her to. I wasn’t sure what it would mean if she didn’t.
She didn’t.
When we arrived at the rec center and got out of the car, I slowed my pace out of habit so Dani could grab my hand. She didn’t grab it right away, but waited a few more steps than usual. Because I couldn’t help it, I gave her fingers a squeeze.
Before Dani could squeeze back, she saw her counselor and let go, running to her. She wrapped her arms around the girl’s waist. I’d never seen her so happy to be at camp.
“Mikayla!” Dani shouted.
“Hey, pixie,” said Mikayla, who seemed genuinely glad to see her. She looked up and smiled at me.
That was when an idea dawned.
“Mikayla,” I said. “Are you by any chance free next Saturday?”
18
There was an episode of Silver Arrow where Atticus Marr got a severe case of hypersickness. The crew had to tie him to a chair on the bridge because he was speaking in nonsense words. As Azor took over the captain’s seat, leading Satina and Bram as they steered through an asteroid field, Marr kept yelling things like “Shrimp!” and “Toaster in the horse manure!” It was one of my favorite episodes when I was a kid, because it made my mom laugh.
This reminded me of that. Minus, of course, my mother laughing.
Instead of Marr, it was Eliza dressed as Marr, riding in the middle row of James’s parents’ minivan. She did not look happy, being relegated to second tier. The Tri-State SuperCon was her idea, her plan, her expected triumph. But Max knew how to get there, Max had the good GPS on his phone, so Max rode in the shotgun navigation position next to James. It was something he decided and directed, and he seemed to enjoy the look on Eliza’s face when he told her to get in the back.
To be honest, I enjoyed it, too.
Kendall sat in the other middle row seat. Camden and I sat in the way back with our hands interlaced, our feet entwined. Basically every part of us touching, as far as the seat belts would allow. I needed this contact as a constant reminder of why I’d done what I’d done, and why I shouldn’t feel guilty.
I’d sent one text message to my mother and Richard telling them these facts and these facts only: where I’d gone, when I’d be back, the name and number of Mikayla, who was at the house with Dani and would be there until Mom came home. I typed out the word Sorry, but then slowly backspaced over it.
After I sent the message, I turned off my phone. My hand shook as I held down the button.
If this day was going to cost me, I was going to make it worth every penny.
Now the phone was tucked away in my Satina satchel. We were already in our costumes, except for the wigs, and except of course for Kendall and James.
This seemed to irk Eliza. As James pulled us onto the highway, she scanned Kendall head to toe and said, “You should have let me put together a Victoria Ransom outfit for you. It would have been so easy.”
Kendall shot a puzzled glance over her shoulder at me.
“She was a teen who stowed away on the Arrow One
’s maiden voyage and got stuck on the ship,” I told her.
Kendall turned back to Eliza. “Up until five seconds ago, I had no idea who that person is. You want me to spend the day dressed up as her?”
Eliza shrugged. “You’d rather spend the day wearing an X-Men T-shirt?”
“What’s wrong with my X-Men T-shirt?”
“You may as well be wearing a plain black T-shirt. Because it doesn’t say anything! X-Men is a given.”
“It’s better that I cosplay a character I’ve never heard of, from a show I’ve never watched?”
Max turned around from the front seat now. “Eliza. You know that’s not how fandom works.”
Eliza snapped her head away from him and stared out the window. “She might feel out of place, is all I’m saying. Frankly, I’m surprised she came, even if it does mean spending the day with Jamie.”
Kendall turned red and glanced quickly at James, who raised his eyes to the rearview mirror for only a second.
“Enough,” said Camden, leaning forward and putting his hand on Eliza’s shoulder. “It’s going to be an amazing day.”
He leaned back and his fingers found my fingers again. He didn’t look like he truly believed what he was saying.
Azor, I told myself. I’m here again with Azor. I hadn’t come for Eliza, to honor all her plans. I could barely look at her or talk to her. I’d come for me and for him.
The memories of those few magical hours at the fair were so vivid and tangible, I thought for sure I could step right back into them. But the truth was this: Camden was different now, because I knew him better now. And that meant his Azor was different, too. Maybe this is what it would have been like, had Satina and Azor actually hooked up. It would not have been simple.
Then again, neither of them would have wanted it to be.
We pulled into the parking lot of the Hilton Garden Inn shortly after 10:00 a.m. It clearly pleased Eliza that so far we’d stayed on schedule. We got out of the van and instantly, I could tell this was not going to be like the county fair. Because right over there was Iron Man, locking his car and slinging a backpack over one shoulder. A few cars away, two girls dressed as the tenth and eleventh Doctors from Doctor Who adjusted each other’s jacket lapels. A couple with a baby walked past, dressed as Na’vi from Avatar (even the baby was blue).
What Happens Now Page 20