Reunited

by Hilary Weisman Graham

  “Tell her I’m busy,” Tiernan said, grabbing her iPod.

  Her mother came closer and yanked the little white earbuds from her head. “I am not going to lie to your friend,” she whispered angrily.

  “Since when is Alice Miller still my friend? The girl hates me.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Why would she be here if she hated you?”

  “Good question,” Tiernan shot back. “Did you pat her down for weapons?”

  Tiernan’s mother just looked at her and waited. It was one of her favorite tools in her arsenal—the Stare of Shame. Then she turned on her heel and hurried back upstairs. Obviously, the woman was pumped to have a normal-looking teenager in the house.

  Sometimes Tiernan wondered if she might still be friends with Alice if her mother hadn’t shipped her off to New Jew freshman year. New Jew (known to the rest of the world as Jacobs Academy of New Jewish Studies) was the pricey Jewish boarding school Tiernan’s Jewish mother insisted she go to for the sole purpose of making Tiernan’s Irish father (Judy’s philandering ex-husband) foot the bill. But Tiernan just wanted to go to Walford High with her friends. Not that her mother ever cared about what she wanted.

  So, Tiernan fought back with the only real power she had—the power to piss her mother off. It was funny how much damage a six-dollar bottle of “Raven” Manic Panic and some scissors could do. Add in a nose ring and an eighteen-year-old boyfriend with dreadlocks (standard issue at all the finest Jewish prep schools) and her transformation into a punk-rock badass was complete.

  To Tiernan, the change wasn’t all that radical. She’d just turned up the volume on her already quirky personality. To eleven. But the whole thing had seriously wigged Judy out.

  Summer didn’t have time to notice Tiernan’s makeover, what with her newfound hobby of letting every jock at Walford High ram his tongue down her throat. And Alice (in typical Alice fashion) tried to act like nothing had changed. She pretended it didn’t matter that Tiernan went to a different school. She ignored the fact that Tiernan’s wardrobe was growing freakier by the day while she and Summer still dressed like Banana Republicans. By the time New Jew booted Tiernan’s butt back to public school sophomore year (a story for another day), Summer and Alice seemed like strangers.

  Upstairs, Tiernan heard her mother laughing. Of all Tiernan’s friends, Alice had always been Judy’s favorite. Even back when Tiernan was still a “good girl” (well, if not “good,” at least “better”) her mother often wondered (aloud) why Tiernan couldn’t be more like her well-mannered, overachieving friend. “Did you know that Alice started an after-school environmental club?” Judy would ask, all mock-innocence. “I bet her mother must be proud.” Insert knife, twist.

  Not that Tiernan held a grudge against Alice for it. Their friendship was fun while it lasted. Then they grew up and drifted apart. The real question was, Why had Alice drifted back into her life now?

  And yet, Alice Miller was in her house—the only visitor Judy had ever let into chez Horowitz while Tiernan was grounded. (And she spent plenty of time being grounded.)

  In every prison break movie, the inmates waited for a chance like this—a guard with a drinking problem, a crack in the fence. Maybe (for once) instead of fighting with her mom, Tiernan would just nod her head and smile. If her mother wanted Tiernan to be Alice’s best friend again, then she would play the role the best she knew how. (And Tiernan did know how.) After all, if her performance was convincing enough, Alice just might be her ticket out of here.

  Tiernan kicked off her combat boots and slid on some boring ballet flats. She dug through the mound of clothes piled in the corner until she found the Level3 T-shirt Alice had given her as a birthday present back when she’d turned thirteen. It smelled a bit moldy, but Tiernan was willing to tolerate a little mold. Hell, she was ready to endure Alice’s wrath, just as long as it came with a Get Out of Jail Free card. Maybe with Alice at her side, she’d be able to hit a few graduation parties after all.

  “Mom!” Tiernan yelled, her voice straining under its own forced sweetness. “Tell Alice I’m ready for her.” She took a quick look in the mirror, admiring herself in the costume of the girl she used to be.

  “Knock, knock,” Alice said in a timid voice. Some wrath. All it took was one look at Alice’s face for Tiernan to see that her secret about that night at the freshman dance was still safe. Then why was Alice here?

  “Howdy, stranger,” Tiernan said.

  “Nice T-shirt,” said Alice.

  Oh, this old thing? Tiernan thought, but instead said, “Yeah. It’s funny, seeing you when I’m wearing this.”

  “Well, considering why I’m here,” Alice replied, “it’s totally beshert.”

  Tiernan was surprised Alice had hung on to that Yiddish word she’d taught her all those years ago. She also wondered what she meant by it. But before she had a chance to ask, Alice was off and running.

  “So, I was watching MTV yesterday—well, I wasn’t really watching it, but I had it on and—I don’t know if you heard about this—I mean, it’s been on the radio but I’m not sure what station you listen to, but anyway . . .”

  Alice had always been a fast talker, but whenever she felt uncomfortable or nervous, she bordered on unintelligible. Unfortunately, Tiernan’s Alice decoder had grown rusty over time.

  “So I was looking on Mapquest and I figure it’s about a five-day drive to get to Austin. And I thought we could share the driving once I show you how to handle the stick shift. Plus, I was thinking we’d alternate between staying at motels and sleeping in the van.”

  Tiernan thought cozying up to Alice might get her out of the house for a night or two—but a full-fledged ten-day vacation? Jackpot! Sure, it would be awkward to go on a road trip with her ex–best friend to see a band she hadn’t listened to in years, but it still beat living with the dragon lady under house arrest. Just as long as she wasn’t stuck in a van with Summer Dalton for ten days (and Alice said she wasn’t coming) the whole thing would be totally bearable. Who knew? Maybe they’d even end up having some fun.

  Tiernan climbed onto her desk so she could see out the high basement window. Sure enough, there was the Pea Pod parked in front of her house. Her getaway car.

  “You’re sure Summer’s not coming?”

  “She can’t,” Alice said, shaking her head. “She’s going away with her boyfriend.”

  There was only one possible catch in this impossibly perfect plan. What if her mother said no? Tiernan was still grounded, and, as a rule, Judy’s punishments were nonnegotiable. Unless Tiernan didn’t try to negotiate. If she just slipped away under the radar, by the time her mother figured out she was missing, she’d be halfway across the country.

  Technically, it wasn’t running away. She’d give Judy a courtesy call from the road. Let her know there was no need to slap her picture on a milk carton or anything drastic like that. And how angry could her mother get if she was hanging out with Alice Miller? That was like the woman’s wet dream.

  Tiernan stared at the Pea Pod. All she needed now was her retainer and her natural hair color and it’d be eighth grade all over again.

  “So,” Tiernan whispered so her mother wouldn’t hear, “anything special I should bring along? Some back issues of Tiger Beat? Maybe my old training bra?”

  “Well,” Alice said, deadpan, “if it still fits.”

  Tiernan smiled. Unlike her friendship with Alice, her love of Level3, or any of the other stuff she’d be putting on for this trip, the training bra was probably the one thing she hadn’t grown out of.

  “UNADULTERATED”

  THE SCULPTORS WHO CARVED YOU OUT OF STONE

  HAVE GONE AND LEFT YOU ALL ALONE

  THEIR WELL-ETCHED DETAILS ARE YOUR LEGACY

  BUT THEY’RE NOT WHAT YOU WERE MEANT TO BE

  DADDY SPLIT,

  YOUR MOMMA’S GONE,

  YOU’RE UNADULTERATED,

  BETTER GET REACQUAINTED

  WITH YOU.

  —from
Level3’s self-titled first CD

  Chapter Four

  ON MONDAY AT 8:32 A.M.—PRECISELY FOUR MINUTES AFTER HER mother left for work—Tiernan threw on her army-store backpack, slapped a Post-it note on the kitchen table, then zipped down the driveway on her skateboard. She needed to haul butt over to Alice’s pronto, before some friend of her mom’s spotted her and called Judy up to report an Unidentified Tiernan Sighting.

  She cruised out of her neighborhood in no time at all. But the closer she got to Alice’s house, the slower her skateboard seemed to go. Sure, her mother could nab her at any minute—and if she did, she’d probably be grounded right up until she got dropped off at the dorms in September. But at least Tiernan knew what she was running from. What was she running to?

  A gawker in a beige Lexus wagged his head disapprovingly as Tiernan rolled across Main Street, making a sharp left into Dunkin’ Donuts. Like ugly overpriced sedans were the only vehicles with drive-thru privileges.

  And why shouldn’t she stop to grab a bite? Now that half the town had seen her, there wasn’t a reason to rush. Judging from the number of stares she’d gotten, you’d think blue-haired girls on skateboards sporting thirty-pound backpacks weren’t a standard part of the Walford morning commute.

  “Welcome to Dunkin’ Donuts,” a female voice crackled over the loudspeaker. “What can I get for you this morning?”

  Tiernan scanned the menu board for something she felt like eating. Part of her wanted to bail right now—to just go back home, lock herself in her room, and pretend like this morning’s little field trip never happened.

  “Ma’am, what can I get for you?” Clearly Tiernan’s indecision was twisting this woman’s panties into a major bunch. The skateboard probably wasn’t helping.

  “Ummmm . . . how ’bout a large chai?” Tiernan asked, like it was a question.

  She paid for her drink, then scooted back to Main Street, struggling to stay on her board between the weight of her pack and the steaming, twenty-two-ounce beverage in her hand.

  Normally, Tiernan was all about sugar. But the chai was so disgustingly sweet it actually made her teeth hurt. Who knew what it would do to her stomach lining if she somehow managed to finish the thing? Her belly had been feeling funky all morning, anyway. Ever since she left the note for her mom.

  Don’t worry. I’m safe. Be back soon. —T.

  She could just see the look on her mother’s face when she came home and discovered the note on the kitchen table. Judy probably wouldn’t waste any time before she put out an APB to all of Tiernan’s friends, who of course knew nothing, which meant she’d have to suck it up and call Tiernan’s dad, which would only piss her off more. But the only person who knew where she was going was Alice.

  Or so Tiernan assumed until she rounded the corner onto Alice’s street and saw Bill and Sarah Miller smiling and waving at her from the front lawn. Crap. She hadn’t thought of the parents factor.

  “Hey, it’s the T-Bird!” Bill called out as she skidded into the driveway. “Long time no see.”

  T-Bird was Tiernan’s old nickname. Summer had made it up back in fifth grade, a blatant rip-off of skateboarding legend Tony “Birdman” Hawk. Of course, Hawk was way past his prime even back then, but he was probably the only boarder Summer could actually name.

  “Hey, Bill, Sarah.” Alice’s parents were the first names kind. Every evening they ate dinner together as a family. On Friday nights, they played board games.

  “Happy graduation!” Sarah said.

  “Thanks.” Tiernan smiled, praying for Alice to come and save her from this dreaded small talk.

  “So, Tiernan, how’s your mom doing?” Sarah asked.

  Fine, until she realizes I’m gone, Tiernan thought. “Uh, the same.”

  Just then Alice flew out of the house, arms loaded high with blankets, making a beeline for the back of the Pea Pod. No high-fructose caffeinated beverages necessary for this girl.

  “Tiernan! You’re here,” Alice said, raising her eyebrows, which Tiernan interpreted to mean Tiernan! You’re late!

  “Helluva commute this morning,” Tiernan said, holding up her Styrofoam Dunkin’ Donuts cup as evidence. Disturbingly, it was almost empty.

  “So, Tiernan, where are you going to school in the fall?” Bill asked.

  “In Boston. Emerson College.”

  Sarah nodded her approval. “I have a friend at Emerson. She teaches in the drama depart—”

  “Mom,” Alice snapped. “We don’t have time for chitchat if we’re going to make it to West Virginia by tonight.”

  “Aye-aye, Captain!” Sarah said, shooting her a look of exaggerated deference.

  “You forgot to salute, hon,” Bill added, elbowing his wife.

  Alice gave Tiernan an eye roll. “Just toss your stuff in the back.”

  For the first time in her life, Tiernan was grateful for Alice’s anal-retentive need to be on time. She wedged her skateboard behind Alice’s suitcase, remembering to grab her iPod from her backpack before tossing it on top. With ten straight days of unadulterated Alice ahead of her, odds were that she’d give it some serious use. Might as well grab her camera, too. You could never have too many distractions to fill up those long stretches of uncomfortable silence.

  “Water, sunglasses, cell phone, map,” Alice was reading off a typed-up checklist. “Okay, looks like we’re good to go,” she said, smiling at Tiernan.

  Sarah rushed over to hug her daughter. “Just promise me you’ll drive carefully, okay? Never when you’re too tired.”

  “And call us. At least every five hundred miles,” Bill said, moving in to give Tiernan a squeeze, which, shockingly, turned out to be less awkward than Sarah’s squishy mom-boob embrace.

  Tiernan climbed into the Pea Pod, face-to-face with a sign written in her own handwriting, circa sixth grade: LEVEL3 SUPER-FAN HEADQUARTERS. More like Super Dork Headquarters. It was strange to be back in the van with all their old stuff just as they’d left it—their posters, their precious Level3 collages.

  “Okay, let’s do this thing,” Alice said, starting the Pea Pod.

  The thrum of the engine sent shivers up Tiernan’s spine.

  “Bon voyage!” Bill shouted from the front steps as the Pea Pod slowly backed down the driveway. Tiernan waved politely out the window and Alice gave the horn a quick double-beep, then Bill and Sarah disappeared inside their house and she and Alice were alone.

  Tiernan was tempted to take a picture of this moment just to prove it was actually happening. She was really running away. Not to mention driving cross-country with Alice Miller. It was hard to say which made her more nervous.

  “Stop!” shouted a voice from behind the van.

  Alice’s eyes flew to the rearview mirror and the van screeched to a halt. Shoot. Tiernan couldn’t believe her luck. Busted while she was still in the driveway. Her heart hammered in her chest as she turned to face the one person in Walford she’d been trying to avoid.

  Okay, make that two people.

  “Oh my God!” Alice squealed. She flung open her door and leaped out onto the pavement. “Don’t tell me you’re coming?”

  Yeah, don’t tell me.

  Summer Dalton strutted over to Alice in a form-fitting yellow tank top and khaki short-shorts, an oversize green Walford Hawks duffel bag in hand.

  “I thought I might miss you guys, so I ran the whole way here,” she said breathlessly.

  Alice snatched the duffel bag from Summer’s hand, like she was the girl’s personal bellhop. “I can’t believe it.” Alice giggled. “All three of us, together again!” Then she quickly turned away, fiddling with Summer’s luggage in an effort to cover up the embarrassment of her own enthusiasm. Not that Summer noticed. She had already let herself into the back, filling the van with a cloying flowery smell, like a women’s magazine after somebody ripped open all the perfume samples.

  “Wow, this looks exactly the same! Are you guys having flashbacks, or what?” Summer asked, smiling at Tiernan.
/>   “Yeah, but it might be from all those mushrooms I ate back in ninth grade,” Tiernan replied.

  Summer freaking Dalton. There was something behind that superfake smile of hers (a whiff of desperation?) that made Tiernan pretty sure Summer wasn’t here to reconnect with her old middle school pals. A runaway can always spot another runaway.

  “Okay, ladies, take two,” Alice said, getting back behind the wheel.

  This time they made it out of the driveway.

  “Just so you guys know,” Alice began, “there’s plenty of fruit in the built-in coolers in back, and the water tank’s full, so you can just fill your water bottles at the sink. First-aid kit’s in the storage space above your head, Summer. Scrabble and Pictionary are in the one at your feet.”

  “Did you remember to pack the Belgian waffle maker?” Tiernan asked.

  Of course Alice hadn’t overlooked a single detail. Back when they were all friends (as opposed to whatever they were now—van-mates?), Tiernan and Summer used to have a running joke that they lived life like they were vacationing on a luxury liner and Alice—hyperorganized child that she was—was their cruise director.

  “I brought my GPS along!” Summer announced, pulling it from her trendy oversize purse. It was still in the box, unopened.

  “It was a graduation gift from my parents,” she explained. “They’re worried about me driving in Boston. All those oneway streets.”

  Tiernan rolled her eyes. Boston College wasn’t technically even in Boston. It was in Newton, which was a suburb almost exactly like Walford, full of wide two-way streets, sprawling green lawns, and rich people in khakis who cared about sports.

  “Tiernan, you want to set it up?” Alice asked.

  “Maybe Summer should do it. It’s her thing.”

  Summer shook her head. “You know I’m terrible with directions. Plus, you are in the copilot’s seat.”