by Shana Norris
I stared back at her, my mouth open slightly but no sound coming out.
“Am I right?” She didn’t wait for my answer. “You see now what I’ve been dealing with for almost a year. He’s killing me and he doesn’t even realize it because he never notices a thing other than what matters inside his insane world. I’ve tried to change him, but it’s come down to him or me. And I’m not letting some guy ruin me.”
She tossed her hair back. “If you’d rather give up your future for Zac, fine. I have no problem watching you crash and burn because you didn’t get your way.” She smiled. “Think about it. You don’t go to Costa Rica this summer, you don’t get into your top school next year. It’s all downhill from there. Are you willing to settle for second best?”
Hannah knew me too well. She knew exactly how to stab at me with her words.
I would not be second best. I couldn’t. Everything was planned out and Costa Rica was the first step in that plan.
I could handle a few slushies and comedy shows for the sake of my future, right?
The front door of the restaurant opened and a tall woman in a perfectly pressed white blouse and cream skirt stepped into the room. She made a face as she looked around the dining area, sniffing the air and then shuddering slightly.
“Hannah, are you done here?” She eyed the brilliant gold watch on her wrist. “We’re behind schedule. We’re supposed to start on your calculus review at seven-thirty.”
Mrs. Cohen, Hannah’s mom. I hadn’t seen her since the Cohens moved out of our neighborhood two years ago. She still looked exactly the same—starched, stiff, and not at all impressed by anything.
I instinctively stood straighter as Mrs. Cohen’s eyes passed over me. But whether it was the hot dog I wore strapped across my forehead or just that in Mrs. Cohen’s eyes I’d always been a threat to Hannah’s success and therefore not someone she wanted to get to know well, she didn’t show any recognition as she gave me the briefest of glances before turning away.
“I’ll let you think about it for a few days,” Hannah growled to me. “Consider whether you want to wear that hot dog again all summer. Who is Zac to you anyway? Just a nobody that has never really mattered. People like you and me have the drive to succeed in everything we do. Are you willing to do what it takes to make it there?”
She spun around and marched toward her mother.
“Honestly, Hannah,” Mrs. Cohen fussed as she pushed open the door, “this is exactly the kind of thing that will cost you valedictorian next year. A successful person is punctual at all times.”
* * *
“Hey, honey,” Dad greeted me when I walked into the kitchen after work that night.
“Hi,” I answered. I looked from Dad, who was still smiling wide from laughing a moment ago, to Ian, who was laughing, to Trisha, who smiled up at me. All three were sitting around our kitchen table—Trisha sat in Mom’s spot again—and they had been apparently having a great time without me.
“What’s so funny?” I pulled open the refrigerator to look inside for the bottle of cranberry juice, half-expecting to find it stuffed inside the deli drawer thanks to Trisha’s careless grocery storage. But no, the half-empty bottle was exactly where it was supposed to be, alphabetically between the apple juice and milk on the beverage shelf.
“Nothing,” Dad said. “Trisha was telling us about one of her students. It’s a long story.”
I got the picture. It was a them thing. I wasn’t meant to be a part of it. Trisha was certainly doing a good job at wrapping the men of this house around her finger. But she wouldn’t do the same to me. I was well aware of her attempts to take over as alpha-female of this house. And then, once everything seemed fine and happy, BAM—she’d pull a Mom act and split.
Nice try, Trisha Montgomery, but not everyone in this family was as blind and stupid as others.
“So how was your day?” Trisha asked me, leaning on her forearms against the table.
“Fine,” I growled, grabbing a glass from the cabinet. “Sold lots of hot dogs.”
“And you didn’t bring any leftovers home for us?” Dad asked.
Trisha laughed at Dad’s stupid comment, as if it were the funniest thing she’d heard all week. “Don’t tease her, Mitch. Avery’s working very hard to get to Costa Rica.” She looked back at me, her eyes wide and shining. “It’s only, what? A month and a half until you go, right? Are you getting excited?”
“Yeah,” I answered. “Thrilled.”
“I can’t imagine going off so far away from home at your age,” Trisha said, propping her chin up with one hand. “My parents would never have let me do it. Your dad is so cool to let you go.”
“I don’t know how cool I am,” Dad said, blushing a little. “I can’t say I’m exactly one hundred percent behind this trip. Part of me still insists I should tie her down and refuse to let her leave the house this summer.”
I shot Dad an annoyed scowl. “We’ve been over this. There are going to be chaperones, plenty of adults all around all the time.”
Dad reached over and patted my arm. “I know that, but I’m still worried. I like knowing you’re safely at home.”
“Avery is a smart girl,” Trisha told him. “She can take care of herself.”
“Yeah,” Dad said, smiling at me. “I guess I don’t want to admit that she’s grown up. It went a little too quickly.”
Ian made a gagging noise. “Are we done with the Avery love fest yet? Let’s talk about me for a while.”
Trisha reached over and pinched his cheek between her fingers. “And what would you like to talk about? How adorable you are?”
Ian blushed. “Well, maybe for a few minutes. Not all night or anything.”
They laughed as if they were this typical, happy family unit. A mom, dad, and son gathered around the kitchen table to talk about their day. I was the outsider here in my own home, unable to figure out how or when this had happened. When had I become second to this strange woman in our family?
“Oh!” Ian exclaimed. “I wanted to show you the new pictures I took for my project.”
My brother jumped up from the table and dashed to his room. We heard him moving things around for a minute and then he came back, carrying a photo box.
“Check these out,” Ian said, pulling out a stack and handing them to Trisha.
Why was Ian so in love with that woman? It was disgusting, the way he looked to her for approval. He wanted her to give him a pat on the head and tell him what a good boy he was to fill in Mom’s absence.
I stood up. “I’m going to put my stuff in my room. I have a lot of…”
My voice trailed off. I stared down at the table, looking at the pictures Trisha had set down in front of her as she looked through them.
“Let me see that.” My fingers closed on a photo that had caught my eye. I blinked at the photograph in my hand, trying to absorb what I was seeing. But no matter how long I stared at the two faces, I couldn’t quite comprehend the scene it had captured.
“Avery?” Dad asked. “Something wrong?”
“When was this taken?” I asked Ian, showing him the photo.
Ian scrunched his face up as he tried to remember. “Two days ago, I think. Yeah, because there’s the Book Nook in the background. I took some pictures around that area two days ago. What’s wrong with it?”
I shook my head. “Nothing. Can I keep this?”
Ian shrugged. “Go ahead. It’s not one of my best shots. I wasn’t planning on using it in the collage.”
The picture was blurry so I couldn’t be sure that what I thought I saw was real. But it was close enough I couldn’t tear my eyes away from it.
“Thanks,” I said. “I’ll be in my room if you guys need me. I’m not feeling too well.”
Dad stood and pressed a hand to my forehead. “Are you okay? What’s wrong? Is it that picture?”
I shook my head and pushed his hand away. “It’s a picture of a friend from school, so I thought she might want it. That’s
all.”
Dad didn’t look as if he believed me, but he nodded and sat back down. “I’ll check on you later and see if you’re feeling okay.”
“I hope you feel better, Avery,” Trisha said.
I nodded. “Yeah, thanks. Good night.”
Once I had shut myself in my room, I laid down on my bed and stared at the picture again. I still couldn’t believe what I saw.
Hannah Cohen walking arm-in-arm with a guy.
A guy who wasn’t Zac Greeley.
Chapter 20
Mr. Throckmorton eyed me with his disapproving look. Today apparently had been a very stressful day for him, judging from the way one side of his shirt tail hung outside of his pants and his hair stuck all out at crazy angles around his head.
“James,” he barked, making me jump guiltily. “I don’t see a customer at the counter. Who are you making that for?”
I pressed a lid over the top of the large double chocolate milkshake with extra whipped cream. “I’m expecting a customer at any second. This is a call ahead order for him.”
I gave Mr. Throckmorton what I hoped was my best innocent smile that didn’t make him think I was up to something. Of course, Mr. Throckmorton always thought I was up to something.
“Your friends don’t get free shakes,” he told me, his hands planted firmly on his hips. “Remember that. Either they pay or you do.”
“It’s already paid for,” I told him cheerily.
Mr. Throckmorton eyed me for a moment longer, before he finally disappeared into the kitchen with a curt nod.
I let out a sigh. I had to get out of this place. My sanity couldn’t endure working at Diggity Dog House for much longer.
“You called?” said a voice behind me.
Ian leaned against the counter, resting his camera on the sparkling clean surface I had wiped down moments ago.
“What do you want?” he asked in a bored voice.
“Is that any way to greet your sister who loves and adores you and…” I produced the freshly made shake, opening the lid to show him the contents. “…who made you this free milkshake?”
Ian gave me a suspicious look, but he took the drink I offered him. “Thanks.” He took a long sip through the straw and then said, “Again, what do you want?”
I motioned for Ian to follow me to the end of the counter farthest from the kitchen. I couldn’t leave my station since I was on register duty, but I could try to keep a certain person in the kitchen from overhearing my conversation.
“See this girl?” I asked, showing him the picture he had taken of Hannah.
Ian studied the picture. “Not really. It’s pretty blurry.”
I sighed. “Exactly. I need you to get a better picture. And if you get one of this girl kissing that guy I’ll give you two free shakes.”
“I can’t even tell what she looks like.” Ian turned the picture all around as if holding it upside down would give him a better view. “How will I know when I see her around town?”
“Go into my room and look for last year’s yearbook,” I said. “It’s on the top shelf of my bookcase. In the sophomore class, look for Hannah Cohen.”
Ian sucked down more milkshake before asking, “Why are you so interested in who she’s making out with?”
Little brothers could be so annoying. Why couldn’t he do what I told him without asking questions?
“None of your business. If you want the free shakes, do what I’ve asked.”
“Fine,” Ian said. “I don’t know if I’ll ever run into her around town again anyway. It wasn’t like I was looking specifically for her.”
“You found her once, you can find her again,” I said. “I’ll try to figure out where she might be going after school.” Molly would be perfect in that department.
The kitchen door opened and Elliott sauntered out, swinging the broom back and forth in one hand as he whistled. He caught sight of Ian and me and grinned.
“Aw, how cute. A family reunion?”
“Go annoy someone else,” I told him.
Elliott walked around the counter and slung his arm over Ian’s shoulders. “I’m only saying hey to my favorite little neighbor.”
The look in Ian’s eyes when he gazed up at Elliott made me want to pour his chocolate shake over the top of his head. Ian needed a lesson in how to pick better role models to admire. What was with this kid thinking every idiot he crossed paths with was his newest hero?
I reached across the counter and pulled my brother from the snake’s clutches. “Don’t you have work to do?”
Elliott twirled his broom. “I do have a date with some food crumbs.”
“Bye, Elliott,” Ian called as he walked away.
I made a face at him. “Please don’t tell me you’ve fallen for his charms too.”
The tips of Ian’s ears turned pink. “He seems like a pretty cool guy.”
“He’s the biggest jerk in town. Stay away from him.” I reached for a washcloth to wipe down the counter again, but paused when an idea hit me.
“Or better yet,” I said slowly, leaning over the counter and lowering my voice, “follow him too. Find out what he does when no one’s watching.”
“Why would you care what he does if you hate him?” Ian asked, sucking on his milkshake.
“Peace of mind.”
“If I do it, you have to up the payment to four free milkshakes.”
“Three.”
“Deal.”
“Get some good pictures. No more blurry ones.”
If everything worked out, I could take care of two problems at once.
Chapter 21
When Zac’s text arrived at quarter to midnight, I was still wide awake in my bed.
Ready 4 midnite comedy?
For a moment, I considered not answering. I should have stayed in bed, stayed in my nice, normal life where things weren’t so complicated.
Ready, I texted back.
My body rebelled against me. My head said no, but my legs walked me across the room, my hands grabbed my clothes and then my feet carried me outside to where Zac waited in my driveway.
“You’re going to love my routine tonight,” Zac said. “I have something new planned.”
He rattled on but I barely heard him. My fingers drummed along the steering wheel in no discernible rhythm. My heart raced like I’d had too much caffeine.
“Hey, you okay?” Zac asked, tapping my arm.
I jumped and suddenly realized I was about to run a red light. The car squealed to a stop at the empty intersection.
“What?”
“You zoned out there for a minute.”
I breathed heavily. Why couldn’t I stay away from Zac? What had made me come with him tonight?
“Oh, sorry. I was...thinking about Costa Rica.”
Zac nodded. “Are you excited about going?
The light turned green and I pressed the accelerator, kicking up dry dust on the road behind us. “Yes, I really am. As a high school student, I won’t get to do much with the medical work except fetch supplies and observe. But I’m still eager to get there.” I sighed. “If I can get the rest of the money I need.”
Zac leaned his head back against the seat and looked over at me. “Costs a lot?”
“Four thousand dollars,” I said. “Which is why I work at Diggity Dog House.”
Zac whistled. “Saving the world is definitely not cheap.”
“No, it’s not. But it’ll be worth it, once I’m there.”
Zac traced a finger along the seam in the plastic seat cover. “So what happens if you don’t make it there? Will your entire future fall apart?”
I thought about his question for a moment before answering. Mom was the only one who could tell us why she had decided running away was better than staying. Maybe Mom was in Costa Rica living the life she had dreamed or maybe she was somewhere else. But this was the only clue I had in finding her and getting some answers so we could all move on.
“No, I guess everything woul
d be fine if I don’t go. Or at least, everything will be the same as it has been.”
“Which is not quite fine?”
I shrugged, unable to meet his gaze. “Nothing has been fine for four years now.”
We were quiet for a long time as I drove through the darkened streets. It was almost peaceful, sitting here in my car with Zac and neither us saying a word. Only the radio’s low hum filled the silence.
“Parents don’t always realize how they hurt their kids by the things they do,” Zac told me. He stared straight ahead, his fingers moving back and forth across his thigh, tracing the lines of the denim. “They make mistakes. Big ones.”
“Sometimes mistakes can’t be forgiven,” I said.
“No,” he agreed. “Sometimes they can’t.”
I spoke the words I’d never spoken to anyone before, not even to Molly. “Sometimes I wish I could forget everything about her.”
He turned toward me and it seemed as if his gaze could see right through me.
“Do you really mean that?”
“Sometimes, yes. I don’t like to think about what she did to my dad or how my brother cried for months. It’s better for all of us if we pretend she was never there. A myth, you know? Although some of us seem to want to forget more than others.”
“What do you mean?” he asked.
I sighed, tightening my grip on the steering wheel. “My dad. He’s seeing this woman and it seems serious. I don’t understand how he can put himself back out there. Like he doesn’t remember how much my mom hurt him.”
“Maybe he’s lonely,” Zac suggested. “Maybe your dad chooses to remember the good times of being in love and he wants to experience that again.”
“But he needs to remember the bad parts. That way he won’t open himself up to that pain again.”
Zac gave me a half-smile. “I certainly picked the best business partner to start up a matchmaking service with, didn’t I?”
I laughed a little. “I tried to warn you. Why let yourself be vulnerable? It’s better to go through life without letting all these hormones rule us and make us do crazy things.”