by Mary Strand
Mary rolled her eyes, then went back to the front hall and hung up her jacket in the closet. I followed her upstairs, even though my stomach rumbled. I realized the only thing I’d eaten all day was an orange for breakfast and half a quesadilla at lunch before Steve fired me and my appetite disappeared just like that.
I reached my room without Mom or Dad flying out into the hallway to hug me or slap me or chew me into a thousand pieces. My room held the same mess I’d left when I flew out of here Monday morning for parts unknown.
Sighing, I dropped my duffle in the middle of the floor, then tossed my backpack on Lydia’s bed. I flopped on my own bed, still dressed, my boots still on. I’d left town for four days, and why?
I was still the queen of nothing.
Even more than before.
I awoke to the sound of Mom screeching my name.
When my eyes flickered opened, my groggy brain registered the fact that I wasn’t at the Motel 6. The door to my room was wide open. My boots were off. And I was tucked into bed, under my sheets and blankets, even if I was still wearing what I’d worn home last night.
Weirdest of all? My old blue teddy bear, Thedy, which I’d flung into the farthest corner of the top shelf of my closet a million years ago, was in my arms. Cuddling with me.
Even though I was practically seventeen!
I stuffed Thedy under the covers in case someone caught me with him, even though someone had obviously found Thedy and stuck him in bed with me. Knowing my family, they’d probably taken incriminating photos in case I ran away again.
When I ran away again.
I heard Mom’s staccato footsteps on the stairs, but Dad appeared in my doorway first.
His eyebrows went up. “Good trip?”
Not particularly, but I still planned to do it again the first chance I got. I burrowed farther under the covers, trying to look sick. I had to get out of school today. Actually, the thought of school did make me feel like heaving.
Dad stood there, watching me, as Mom barreled past him into my room and flung the covers off my bed.
“Still in your clothes? What have I told you girls about wearing pajamas to bed? It’s just not—”
“Connie.” Dad cleared his throat as he took a few steps closer, cautiously. The danger of facing all the X chromosomes in one of his daughters’ rooms had always been too much for him. “We don’t need to talk to Cat about what she wears to bed. She’s sixteen, almost seventeen.”
“She doesn’t act like it.” Mom sniffed. “None of my other daughters run away from home.”
I held up a finger, about to mention Lydia, who’d run away from the plane that was supposed to take her to reform school, which sent the cops to our doorstep. I’d just skipped town. And stolen the Jeep. And, okay, painted it black.
Dad cleared his throat. “Our other daughters have all, at one time or another, contributed to my gray hair.”
Ha ha. Dad didn’t actually have any gray hair yet. His blond hair had long since morphed to brown, though, leaving Jane the only blonde in the family.
Mom’s hands were on her hips, but she was facing Dad now, not me, and I took it as an improvement.
“They’ve never run away, Howard.”
“What about Liz when she was six? What about Lydia last summer?”
“She didn’t run away.”
His eyebrows went up. “Liz? Or Lydia?”
“This isn’t about Liz. Or poor Lydia.”
Oh, God. Things really hadn’t changed.
Dad moved past Mom and, shock of shocks, sat down on the edge of my bed. “Cat, we know you’re unhappy, but—”
“She’s unhappy? Who had to drive all the way to Wisconsin Dells to retrieve her?”
Dad frowned at Mom. “Mary went to the Dells.”
“I wanted to go, but no. You said I shouldn’t.”
Dad didn’t say anything to that, but he and I both knew he’d go down in a verbal hail of bullets if he actually told Mom what everyone thought of her driving. Even though she really should know. I mean, our insurance agent had been pretty blunt.
“Do you mind if I talk to Cat alone?”
I sucked in a breath. Dad wanting to be alone with a teenage daughter? When all of his teenage daughters except Liz drove him absolutely nuts?
Mom opened her mouth, and I could see the “no” about to pop out, but she closed it. “I do have a meeting with clients. Are you sure you can handle this, Howard? I want Cat back in class today. She’s missed enough school this week already.”
Dad smiled at Mom, but I noticed he didn’t actually nod. Weird. I really doubted Dad would let me cut school. He might be unpredictable, but he was pretty Dad-like that way.
We both listened as Mom went downstairs, then clattered around in her heels in the front hallway.
“Dad, I—”
He held a finger to his lips as the front door opened and slammed shut, then looked at me. And smiled. “Quite an adventure this week, hmm?”
I shrugged.
He crossed one leg over the other, somehow making it look like a sitting-down version of tree pose. “What was the highlight? Stealing the Jeep, painting it, camping out in a Motel 6, or getting a job at a waterpark?”
I stared at him, speechless, my jaw dropping as I realized he knew about the paint job but hadn’t killed me yet.
“It must be quite a tale. Unfortunately, I have to go to work today, and I have a feeling it’ll take a while to get all the details out of you.”
Yeah. Like, forever.
He patted my leg through the covers just as the front door slammed again. The footsteps running up the stairs at top speed weren’t Mom’s, and a moment later Liz poked her head into my room. Great. Dad had called in the family’s toughest guard dog. With Jane, I might actually have a chance.
“Nice paint job.” She grinned as she flopped cross-legged onto the rug in the middle of my room. “I would’ve gone for yellow, myself. Okay, maybe bright blue. But I guess you’re tired of bright colors on the Jeep, huh?”
Dad still wasn’t yelling at me. Without another word, he stood up. At the door, he turned back and smiled, first at me, then Liz. “Have a good day, girls. Whatever you do.”
Whatever we do?
Whistling, he went downstairs. A few moments later, I heard the front door open and shut again.
“Do you want to tell me about it?” Liz tilted her head, studying me, but otherwise looked as relaxed as ever. The way a tiger can be relaxed right before it springs.
I shrugged. What was the point?
Liz rolled her eyes. “So. I assume I’m not taking you to school?”
“Mom said I had to go.”
“And you do everything Mom says.”
I turned on my side, propped my head on one hand, and stared out the window. I’d first stopped obeying Mom in first grade, cutting class with Lydia when she got pissed about having to stop drawing and learn to read. But I’d been the one who wanted to draw. Lydia actually wanted to flirt with all the first-grade boys, who all just stuck out their tongues at her.
“You can’t ignore me all day, you know.”
My head jerked, falling off my hand. I sat up in bed, tossed my pillow at the wall, and leaned back against it. Liz stayed on the floor, totally relaxed, looking as if she wouldn’t mind sitting there all day, watching me.
“Talk to me.” She waved a hand. “No, I don’t need to hear about the Motel 6, but I wouldn’t mind hearing how and why you painted the Jeep.” She grinned. “I can’t believe Dad didn’t go ballistic.”
“Maybe, as it turns out, he doesn’t actually like hot pink.”
“She speaks!” Liz hooted. “Come to think of it, we’re talking painting, and you are our resident artist.”
Actually, with all that time on my hands in Wisconsin Dells, I’d filled my sketchpad with drawings. Portraits, mostly, but after I ran through all my coworkers at the waterpark and everyone else I could remember, I’d started drawing other stuff. Clothing desi
gns, buildings, and animals, even though I hadn’t been around animals my whole life—if you didn’t count Mary’s cat, Boris, or the fact that I live in a zoo.
Liz’s eyebrows rose. “This is even tougher than trying to talk to Mary last fall when she didn’t want to.”
Perfect. I was officially Liz’s latest project. She was also way too perky this early in the morning—or, basically, any time of day. I couldn’t help it. I threw my pillow at her.
Stupid. A second later, I caught it back in the face.
“You know, I think Mary tried that move, too. With equal success.”
“I’m not Mary.” I clutched the pillow to my chest. “So quit comparing us.”
“Hey.” Liz started to stretch out on the floor, stopped, and finally grabbed a pillow off Lydia’s bed. “Believe me, I know. You’re not Mary, and Mary’s not me, and I’m not Jane, and Lydia— Well, Lydia isn’t like any of us. Not even you. Sorry.” She held up a hand. “I just meant—”
I brushed her off. “No, she’s not me.”
Liz’s gaze narrowed, zooming in on me in a way that reminded me of Dad. And I don’t mean that as a compliment.
“You’re not defending her.”
“You weren’t attacking her.” I shrugged. “Lydia can take care of herself. She always does.”
As my words hung in the air, unanswered, Liz suddenly sat bolt upright. She never relaxed for more than thirty seconds at a time.
“So what are we gonna do today?”
I frowned. “Like I said. Mom said I had to go to school. You have class, too, don’t you?”
“Not until noon. In the meantime, let’s do something.” She leaped to her feet in a single smooth move that I’d almost envy if I hadn’t watched her do it my whole life.
I crossed my arms and didn’t budge. “I don’t need any babysitters.”
Liz’s eyebrows rose. “Sorry, babe, but I don’t make the rules. And you don’t have to think of me as a babysitter. Think of me as a— As a—”
For once in her life, Liz was at a loss for words.
“As a pal?” I rolled my eyes. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”
“We’ll work on it. On being pals and on you believing.”
I bit my lip, talking more to myself than to Liz. “I don’t believe in anything.”
“Well, I believe in food, and nothing around here even remotely resembles a Cinnabon.” In a move so fast I didn’t see it coming, Liz reached out and yanked me to my feet. “C’mon. Let’s get out of here.”
Chapter 18
“Their conduct has been such,” replied Elizabeth, “as neither you, nor I, nor anybody, can ever forget.”
— Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice, Volume III, Chapter Seven
I spent a tense morning with Liz at the Mall of America, wondering why she kept pretending we were pals. Hadn’t we both chosen our pals a long time ago? Even if I’d chosen badly?
As we wandered around Gap, Liz grabbed my arm and hauled me toward the far end of the store. “I was thinking you’d look really good in—”
I yanked my arm away and headed back toward the store entrance. Toward anywhere she wasn’t. “Thanks, but I already know what I look good in. Another town.”
“Like the Dells?” Liz caught up but didn’t try to grab me again. “You don’t really want to go back to the Dells, do you? Living by yourself in a Motel 6, working a lame-o job? No cash? No friends?”
I glanced sideways at her, seeing an earnest look on her face that reminded me more of Jane than Liz. Almost as if she cared what I thought.
I kept walking. “For your information, it was great. They asked me to come back this summer. They liked me.”
“We like you, too. And Dad will never let it happen.”
I bit back something at the base of my throat that felt too close to a sob. “I forgot. Dad only lets you and Jane do what you want. Move out. Get an apartment. Whatever.”
“We were already in college when we moved out. You’re not even seventeen.”
I rubbed my nose, trying to make the weirdness in my throat sound like a cold. “I’ll be seventeen in three weeks. Dad let Lydia go to the Dells when she was sixteen.”
“And look where that got him.”
“No, look where it got Lydia.”
Liz’s eyebrows went up. “Reform school, last time I checked. Tell me your ambitions run a little higher.”
“I don’t have any ambitions.” I shrugged, meaning it. “Except for getting out of town.”
“First chance you get?” Liz stuck like glue to me as we circled the first floor of the Mall of America. At Cinnabon, she grabbed my elbow and steered me to the counter. “For instance, if I go into a dressing room? Or leave you alone for two seconds while I buy a Cinnabon? Even if I buy one for you?”
“Maybe not if you buy one for me.” I nodded when the salesclerk asked if we both wanted one. “But the dressing room? Definitely.”
“Thank God you don’t have a spare key to the Prius. At least, I don’t think so.”
“I guess there’s only one way to find out.” I grinned at her but wondered how Lydia missed swiping the Prius key. “Wanna go back and try on those jeans you liked at Gap?”
“Cute.” Liz paid for the Cinnabons, grabbed some napkins, and pointed me to a small round table, where she started peeling the gooey outer layer off of hers.
Jane would’ve used a fork and knife. Jane wouldn’t have wondered if I had a spare key to the Prius. She also wouldn’t have worried about me ditching her the moment she headed into a dressing room. Hmmm. Maybe there was more to Liz than I knew.
Something more like me. Weird.
Liz finally drove home, grumbling, after I told her ten times that I was sick of the Mall of America. I couldn’t go near Nickelodeon Universe after skipping out on my job there, and I couldn’t afford to buy anything. After I paid Mom back from yesterday’s puny paycheck, I had twenty-five dollars left from my wild jaunt to the Dells.
An obnoxious little voice inside of me told me I should save up a few more bucks before hitting the road again, whether I swiped the Jeep or hijacked a Greyhound.
But I couldn’t go back to school.
Not surprisingly, considering Dad’s lack of faith in me at the moment, Jane was waiting for me at home. I spent the afternoon curled up on the ratty living-room sofa, paging through a magazine as I considered and rejected several escape plans. Jane sat at the kitchen table doing homework or studying. Neither of us spoke. At least Liz had sweetened her babysitting with a Cinnabon.
Mary came home right after school, and Liz showed up half an hour later. When Dad and Mom didn’t show up after work, I got suspicious, especially when Liz, Jane, and Mary holed up in the kitchen, talking in low voices. The only completely audible sound was when Liz laughed out loud a few times.
I couldn’t take it anymore.
I leaped off the sofa and headed to the kitchen at full tilt. “If you’re saying anything about me, you can stop right now. Before I—”
I hauled up short at the sight of Liz, who was on her feet and facing me. “Before you what?”
She didn’t look mad, just curious, as if she’d never had a sister stand up to her and wondered what it was like.
I forced myself not to quake. Not to back down. “You don’t scare me, you know.”
Jane laughed as she patted the chair next to her, motioning me to join her. “Why should you be any different?”
Even Liz laughed, then grabbed the seat next to Mary while I stayed standing.
“Oh, come on.” Liz glanced at Mary, then me, and rolled her eyes. “Even Mary wasn’t this difficult to help.”
“Yes, I was.” “Yes, she was.”
Mary and Jane laughed hard, and I bit my lip, wondering why I was excluded from this happy little group. Oh, yeah. Because I was the one being babysat. “What are you guys plotting against me this time? More random torture?”
“Like Cinnabon?” Liz’s lips twitched. “Or did you a
lready squeal about that to Jane?”
“She didn’t tell me anything.” Jane shot Liz a quick look. “All afternoon. Not a word.”
“Fine. I’m talking now.” I grabbed a chair at the far end of the table, nowhere near any of my sisters. “So you guys can quit laughing at me.”
Jane shook her head. “Actually, Liz was laughing about our, er, plans for tonight. Or what she thinks our plans should be tonight.”
I snorted. “I didn’t know there were any more Channing Tatum movies playing.”
“See?” Liz’s eyes twinkled. “That’s why we might as well pursue my idea.”
I curled my lip in defiance. “If you’re trying to figure out how to see your boyfriends and babysit me, you could always lock me in the basement.”
Liz tilted her head. “Not a bad idea, you have to admit.”
Jane reached across the table and swatted her, then turned back to me. “Pay no attention to Liz. Our plans for the evening actually involve you.”
“Not if I don’t want them to.”
“Oh, but you will.” From the sadistic look in Liz’s eye, I knew better than to believe her. In fact, this might be a great moment to run, even without shoes or a jacket or the keys to the Jeep. “We’re going to a party.”
“A party?” I frowned. Jane and Liz wouldn’t drag me to a college party, and any party involving Woodbury High School kids was out of the question. Even Liz wouldn’t be that cruel. At least, I hoped not. “No way.”
“It’ll be great, honest.” Jane smiled, which only meant she was completely under Liz’s control. “We still haven’t dealt with what happened last weekend.”
Liz slapped a palm on the table. “Tess is going down.”
Jane held up a hand. “It’s not quite like that. But we thought we’d, er, take care of the situation.”
God, no. Ignoring Liz, I focused my gaze and hopes on Jane. “They’ll crush me. They’ll even crush you guys.”
Jane’s eyebrow rose. “They’ll crush Liz? That’s something I’d pay to see.”
I glanced sideways at Liz, wondering if they could crush her. She’d been one of the most popular kids at Woodbury High, even though she just played sports and didn’t hang out with a “cool” crowd. Everyone hung out with her.