I sighed. How true that felt. It seemed any progress I made only revealed more things needing work.
Amy’s hand rested on my shoulder, and I looked up at her. “Don’t be discouraged, Skylar. You’re doing great.”
For possibly the thousandth time, I wished she was my mother.
Cameron burst into the room. “Skylar, you said five minutes!”
“I know, I’m coming.”
He tapped his foot as I smoothed away the wrinkles of a kitchen towel.
“Go on,” Amy said, taking the towel from me. “I’m sure Connor’s waiting on you too.”
I glanced at the basket full of tangled towels and washcloths. Did Amy ever get breaks? My mom didn’t seem to do half the housework Amy did, yet she was in constant need of time away. “You sure?”
“This’ll take me no time at all.” She shooed me off the couch. “Go be young.”
Cameron snatched my hand and dragged me through the living room. “It’s so cool,” he said, stomping up the stairs. “The painter let me help. I did one of the stars, but I betcha can’t tell which one because it looks just like his.”
Since I’d seen his room last week, it had been completely transformed. No more plain blue walls, mismatched furniture, or ragged carpeting. Now painted furniture from—I’d bet—Pottery Barn Kids took its place. Three of his walls were painted dark with yellowish stars. The fourth wall, empty of furniture, had a large moon mural on it, as if you stood on its surface.
I made a big show of my admiration. “Wow, Cameron. This is the coolest room I’ve ever seen.”
He hopped from one foot to another. “Guess which star I did. Guess which one.”
“I don’t know.” I looked the walls up and down. “I can’t tell.”
“Connor, she can’t tell either!” Cameron cried, and I turned to find Connor standing in the doorway. “I think I’m going to be a painter.”
Connor smiled at his brother, then looked back to me. “Sorry, buddy, but I’ve got to steal Skylar. We have to study.”
Cameron made a face. “Last time you said that, I saw you guys kissing.”
I flushed, but Connor laughed. “We have a test tomorrow. We really do have to study.”
Cameron launched into a song about K-I-S-S-I-N-G. As we headed down the hall toward Connor’s room, Amy hollered up the stairs, “Stop that right now, Cameron Michael!”
Connor rolled his eyes. “Aren’t little brothers the best?”
“No worse than my grumpy, withdrawn little sister.”
“Still?” Connor grabbed his textbook and took the beanbag chair, leaving me the desk. “I thought she’d snap out of it by now.”
Ever since her showdown with Lance last week, Abbie had been a recluse. A snippy recluse.
“What do you think it is?” Connor asked. “Just being freaked out about the baby?”
“I don’t know.” I drew my knees to my chest. “But it’s weird because for a while we were so close, and now there’s like this great big wall between us. And I don’t even know how it happened.”
“You’re still close. It just goes in phases sometimes.” He nodded at the wall dividing his room from Chris’s. “We’re like that too.”
I sighed. Tons of things needed to be done—stocking the nursery, birthing classes, registering at the hospital—but Abbie didn’t seem interested in any of them. And whenever I mentioned any of this to her, she told me to back off.
“If I knew you’d take care of things, I wouldn’t have to constantly bug you about it,” I’d told her yesterday.
“Just leave me alone,” Abbie said as she stormed away. “You’re my sister, not my mom.” She slammed her bedroom door, leaving me alone to ponder various retorts.
Abbie hadn’t been too affected by our fighting. Twenty minutes later, I’d heard her snoring.
“There’s so much that needs to be done,” I said to Connor. “I’m trying to figure out a way to do it all, but Abbie keeps backing away from me.”
“March 10 is still a ways away.”
I blinked at him. “Connor, today’s the twenty-eighth. We’ve got six weeks until her due date, and we don’t have a crib or diapers or clothes . . .” I trailed off as Connor covered my hands with his.
“It’ll all get done. And I’ll do whatever I can to help.”
“Something about this feels wrong. She shouldn’t be acting like this.”
“She shouldn’t be in this situation to begin with. That’s why it seems like she’s acting weird.”
I wanted to believe Connor was right, that this gnawing fear in my belly was an overreaction. But when I returned home a couple hours later, I knew he’d been wrong. That things were far from okay.
Mom’s Lexus sat in the driveway.
I found Mom and Abbie seated at the kitchen table.
“No cookies today?” I asked in a dry voice from the doorway.
Mom’s mouth twitched into her normal, cool smile. “Hi. We didn’t think you’d be home this early.”
I glanced at Abbie, who stared into a steaming mug of something. The kitchen reeked of coffee. Hopefully Mom thought to make decaf for Abbie.
“What’s going on?” I asked, lowering my backpack to the floor.
“You want coffee?”
“I hate coffee.”
Mom nodded. “Do you want to join us?”
“Is it, like, a private club or something?”
Her mouth pressed into a line. “Don’t be snotty, Skylar.”
I plopped into the farthest chair from them, at the head of the long, oval table. My sister still wouldn’t look at me.
“What are you doing here?” I asked Mom.
“This is still my house.”
“You know what I mean.”
Mom reached for the stainless steel carafe and refilled her cup, then Abbie’s. “I’m here to talk to your dad about Hawaii. About making this as simple and easy a transition as possible.”
Abbie looked at me. Already my head ached from grinding my teeth.
“And what’s your story?” I asked.
She hesitated. “Please don’t be mad—”
“Abbie, you can’t go. You’re having a baby—”
“Stop saying that! You think I don’t know I’m having a baby?” She raked her hands through her hair and took several deep breaths. “I can’t stay at school much longer anyway, so I might as well drop out now. And Mom explained the situation to the insurance company, so it won’t be a problem for me to switch doctors.”
“Explained the situation,” I repeated in a flat voice. I cut my gaze to Mom. “I’d love to hear that.”
“Skylar, you know the situation,” Mom said, well measured as always. “I let you make your choice, and now you should let Abbie make hers.”
Had I really been stupid enough to dream this was over?
That Mom wouldn’t try to talk Abbie into going? That Abbie wouldn’t feel swayed to go?
Abbie splayed her hands on the table. “I have a chance to start over. Everybody needs a fresh start.”
I bit back a laugh. Those words had echoed in my head since Mom had said them to me at Starbucks. What an alluring idea, a fresh start. Reinventing yourself. Not being accountable for past mistakes.
Only now I saw it as a chicken’s way out.
“You could come with us,” Abbie said. “No more Jodi. Wouldn’t it be great?”
I ignored this and focused on Mom. “So you’re really going to Hawaii?”
“I told you I was.”
“You also said you were here to stay, so I don’t exactly trust you.”
“He cheated on her. Did you know that, Skylar?” Abbie turned to Mom. “Did you tell her?”
Mom’s gaze didn’t leave my face as she answered Abbie. “Your sister thinks I’m overreacting.”
“Overreacting?” Abbie gaped at me. “Remember how you felt when Eli cheated on you?”
“Mom and Dad aren’t in high school.”
“Mom and Dad aren’
t in high school.”
She rolled her eyes. “See what I mean?” she said to Mom, her voice brimming with bitterness.
“What?” I asked, wary.
“You have no compassion anymore,” Abbie said. “It’s like you’re so much better than everyone else.”
My jaw dropped. She couldn’t have said anything more hurtful. “That isn’t true.” Please, God, don’t let that be true. “It is true! You were crushed when Eli cheated on you, and you didn’t even like him most of the time you dated. But it’s not okay for Mom to be hurt by what Dad did?”
Mom looked confused. “When did you date Eli?”
No time for that now. To Abbie, I said, “I’m not saying Mom shouldn’t be hurt—”
“You hound me about all this stuff I need to get done, about how you think I should be living my life. Like you’re some kind of expert. You know, I wouldn’t even be pregnant if it weren’t for you.”
“Abbie . . .” I couldn’t think of anything to say. I longed for her to take it back.
Tears streaked Abbie’s face. “We can’t all be like you, Skylar. You’ve always been so beautiful and perfect. You suck up all the oxygen in the room, never leaving anything for me.”
“That’s not true—”
“Who are you to say whether or not it’s true?” Abbie’s chair grated across the tile as she stood. “Do you know what it’s like to be plain and boring while your sister’s some exotic beauty?”
“How can you say that?” I asked, assessing her shiny auburn hair, her seemingly pore-free skin.
“You think you’re so superior, but one of these days something bad is going to happen to you”—Abbie jabbed at her stomach—“and everyone will know what a fraud you really are.” Abbie marched out of the room. Mom and I watched her go.
Mom winced at the sound of Abbie’s bedroom door slamming. “She doesn’t mean a lot of that. She’s just moody.”
“But . . .” I pushed back in my chair, frustrated. Mom and Abbie had the gift of starting an argument, then leaving before you could finish it. “Is it so horrible that I’ve been trying to talk her into childbirth classes? Into buying diapers before we bring home the baby?”
“Of course not.”
“And I don’t think I’m better than everyone else,” I muttered.
Or did I? It had only been a few weeks since Connor harped at me for the same thing.
Mom sipped at her coffee. “So, you dated Eli?”
Mom sipped “Yeah.”
“You just blatantly disregarded our rules?” She wagged her head. “What a horrible example to set for your sister.” I couldn’t help laughing. “Do you also blame me for Abbie getting pregnant, or is that just her?”
Mom’s mouth pursed. “The responsibility for that lies with Abbie and Lance alone.”
I released the breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. She’d said what I needed to hear, and now maybe I could offer her something. “It’s not that I don’t understand why you’re angry with Dad,” I said in a soft voice. “I just wish you’d keep working on it.”
Mom snorted, the most undignified sound I’d ever heard from her. “Keep working on it. Right.”
“Why don’t you go back to counseling? It seemed like you guys were making progress.”
Her expression hardened. “This isn’t open for discussion. I’m not taking advice from my teenage daughter.”
“Maybe you should,” Dad said from the doorway. Both Mom and I jumped. “She’s pretty smart.”
How long had he been standing there? With his gaze still on Mom, Dad said, “Skylar, please excuse us.”
The screech of my chair sounded extra loud in the tense quiet. Mom’s and Dad’s gazes remained locked on each other, reminding me of those Discovery Channel shows about face-offs between animals.
I hustled out of the room and upstairs, not wanting to get any more involved in the battle. Outside my room, I paused and looked toward Abbie’s closed bedroom door. It didn’t completely muffle her crying. I tiptoed closer, my hand hesitating on the doorknob.
I thought of earlier, of her venomous words.
I withdrew my hand and retreated to my own room. Why bother helping her when she didn’t appreciate it?
I attempted a variety of activities—studying for American History, cleaning out my closet, sewing—before I finally gave up and called Connor. He didn’t answer his cell, so I called his house line, aggravated that I’d become one of those girls I’d always pitied, the ones who called their boyfriends in the tiniest of crises. Of course, this wasn’t a “tiny” crisis. I didn’t know what this was, really.
Curtis answered with a chirpy, “Hello, Ross redi-sense.”
“Hi, Curtis, it’s Skylar. Is Connor—”
“Skylar!” he cried with the enthusiasm that appeared endless with five-year-olds. “Mom said you were here earlier. I was at Tae Kwon Do. I learned how to do a front snap kick and a forearm block and—”
“Curtis?” Amy said in the background. “Don’t forget to ask who she’s calling for. Remember how we practiced?” “Oh, right.” Curtis took on a rehearsed voice. “Who would you like to speak with?”
I grinned. I was so not a kid person, but it was impossible not to adore Curtis. “Is Connor there?”
“He is, but . . . hey, Mom? What do I say if he’s here but doesn’t want to talk?”
“Did Connor say he didn’t want to talk?” I could hear Amy’s frown through the phone.
“Yeah. I was in his room showing him my new moves when that girl showed up. And he said, ‘If Skylar calls, I can’t talk.’ ”
Could you actually feel a coronary? If symptoms included a faltering heartbeat, a loud whooshing in the ears, and the mind focusing on one thought and one thought only—IS IT JODI??—then I’d swear I just had one.
“Is it Jodi, Curtis?” I asked as Amy said, “Give me the phone, Curtis.”
“What’d I do?” he whimpered.
“Nothing, I just want to speak to Skylar,” Amy said, her voice considerably softer. She came on the line. “Hi, sweetie.”
My entire mouth had gone dry. “Is Jodi there?”
She hesitated long enough that I knew before she confirmed it. “Yes. I’m sorry to be the one to tell you. I thought you knew she came over.”
“Came over?” I repeated. “As in, this happens often?”
Amy groaned. “You should talk to Connor about this. I didn’t mean to get involved, but I could tell I hadn’t trained Curtis for what was going on.”
What was going on?
“I’ll be right over.”
I hung up before Amy responded, then just sat there. How could Connor do this to me? Of course, he’d be able to twist this around and justify it. He’d leave me feeling suddenly stupid for being mad. The pitfalls of dating someone smarter. It would probably be like the last time I drove over there to yell at him—I wound up angry with myself. But I didn’t care. I had to go.
I thundered down the stairs, snippets of our recent conversations running through my head. I’d told him to be careful with her. He knew she made me nervous, that his relationship with her wasn’t a compromise issue. If he wanted to be nice to her, fine, but he shouldn’t be inviting her over to his place. Repeatedly. And telling his baby brother to lie to me.
“Skylar!”
With my right hand halfway to the door to the garage, I turned to face my dad. He and Mom sat at the kitchen table, one chair between them. “What?”
“Where are you going?”
“Connor’s.”
“Well, it’s gonna have to wait. Your mother and I have something to discuss with you girls.”
“It can’t wait.” I took a breath to explain but didn’t know how to tell my father that a sleazy, manipulative girl had wormed her way into my boyfriend’s house in an attempt to steal him.
“It can wait,” Dad said as he strode to the base of the stairs. “Abbie? Will you come down here, please?”
Nothing.
&n
bsp; “It’ll take me less than five minutes,” I pleaded. Two minutes to drive to Connor’s, two minutes to drive back, and thirty seconds to inform him we were over. That’s all it had taken for me to end things with Eli when I’d caught him cheating with Jodi. Okay, I hadn’t caught them, but I’d overheard them talking about what happened between them the night of homecoming.
Dad turned on his no-nonsense voice. “Sit down.” Up the stairs, he boomed, “Abigail Marie? Can you hear me?”
I appealed to Mom. Surely as a woman . . . “I have to go.”
”But she looked even sterner than Dad. “Your father said to sit.”
“So, suddenly you’re on the same team?”
“Watch it, young lady,” Dad said. “Abbie?”
“I hope you two know”—I yanked a chair out from the table—“you’re making a mess of my life.”
“Well, what’s new?” Dad said, then jogged upstairs.
I fidgeted as my brain burned with questions about Connor and Jodi. How long had this been going on? Before Eli and Jodi broke up? Before he knew she liked him? There had to be a good explanation. Connor wouldn’t sneak around behind my back. I knew him.
Didn’t I?
Dad returned downstairs with a puffy-faced, sulking Abbie. She collapsed into a chair without looking at me.
Dad settled into his seat and clasped his hands on the table. “Well, girls, your mom and I have been talking. She’s filled me in on her plans to move to Hawaii, and she says she’s talked to both you girls about it.”
He looked to us for confirmation. We nodded.
“Okay.” Sadness flickered on his face, replaced quickly by a look of stony resolve. “So at the end of the school year, you’ll both move out there.”
15
“What?” Abbie and I said simultaneously.
What?” Abbie and I said simultaneously.
“I’m not moving to Hawaii,” I said.
“And I’m moving before the baby comes.”
Mom nodded at Abbie. “I know we talked about that, but as your dad and I discussed it, it made less and less sense. You can have the baby here with your doctor, in that nice new hospital. That way all your friends will be close by.”
Out with the In Crowd Page 11