Another silence.
“If there’s anything I can do…”
“Thanks. There isn’t. Thanks for calling though. It means a lot.”
“Yeah. We’re friends, aren’t we Emili? You like me enough to be friends?” There was a catch in his voice.
I swallowed. “Yes, yes, of course. We’re friends, good friends.”
“Good friends,” he repeated.
“Marc, we…” I stopped. What was I going to say? It felt so good to talk to him. His voice was soothing, yet strong. I had a sudden urge to curl up in his lap.
“We better go,” he said.
“Yep.”
We didn’t, though. Neither of us hung up. We sat on the line, listening to each other breathe.
After another minute, he said it again. “We better go.”
“I know. Bye then.”
“Bye back.” And he hung up.
I pressed the phone to my chest and took a deep breath. I rolled over on my bed, clutching the phone like it was Marc himself. Did I want him back? After all that had happened?
No. Talking to Marc was an old habit, nothing more. It didn’t mean anything.
The front door slammed and I heard Sarah’s voice get louder and louder. Obviously, she’d seen Dad. I wasn’t surprised when she burst through my door two minutes later.
“Emili!” She was crying. “Do you know?”
“Yeah, I know.”
“What are we going to do?” Now she started wailing.
“Be quiet. Dad will hear you. He feels bad enough without you carrying on. Besides, I remember you said you wanted to go to public school.”
She clamped her hand over her mouth, while the tears kept rolling.
I patted the bed. “Sit down. It won’t be so bad.”
Her eyes grew huge. She took her hand from her mouth. “How can you say that? I didn’t mean it before. Public school? Are you crazy? It’ll be horrible!”
“No, it won’t.” I didn’t believe my own words, but I wanted to say something to calm her down. “The rest of town goes to public school. It’s not so bad.”
She kept shaking her head. “I’m not going, I tell you. I’m not going. They can’t make me. I’ll homeschool myself.”
Right, like that would ever happen. I said nothing — she already knew it was impossible.
“What if no one likes me? What if I don’t make any friends?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course, you’ll make friends.”
“No, I won’t. I won’t have good friends like Becky and Danae and Jara.”
I took hold of both her shoulders. “Yes, you will Sarah. You’re a nice girl. And you’ll still be friends with Becky and Danae and Jara. It’s not like you’re moving to Mars. You’re talented and everyone will love you. Look how well you dance and you haven’t even had lessons yet.”
“Now I’ll never get them!” Her crying increased.
“Yes, you will. The whole world won’t automatically stop because we have to go to public school.”
“My world will!”
So would mine. She nailed it.
“I’ve got to call my friends. They’re going to die. Simply die!” She got up and walked to my door, then looked over her shoulder. “Aren’t you upset, Emili?”
I shook my head. “Won’t do any good. It’ll be all right. You’ll see.”
The monster lie of the year. Hadn’t I promised myself I wasn’t going to lie anymore? I guessed extenuating circumstances didn’t count. Sarah oozed sadness. My desperation didn’t seem as raw as hers — maybe it was because I’d talked with Marc.
Sarah wiped her nose and left.
My phone rang. I looked at the screen. Farah.
“What’s the emergency?” she asked. Her voice sounded funny, but right then I was too into my own problems to care.
“My dad lost one of his jobs.”
“So?”
“So, I’ll be changing schools.”
There was a lengthy silence. Finally, she said, “Are you sure?”
“Yeah. Dad told me.” I heard a muffled sob. “Farah, are you there? Is everything all right?”
Another pause. Then came her regular gush. “Of course! Why wouldn’t it be? But Emili, I need you here.”
This was new. Farah needing me? It felt kind of good.
“Sorry. I don’t want to leave and maybe I won’t have to. It’s not one hundred percent certain.”
“No, no. You’ll have to. It’s my luck lately.”
My phone beeped. It was Lance. “Lance is calling.”
“You better take it. We can talk later.”
I punched my screen. “Lance?”
“Got your message. What gives?”
“I have to change schools.”
“What? Why?”
“Dad lost one of his jobs. There won’t be money.”
“Whoa, tough break.”
Tough break? That was his reaction?
“Yeah.” My voice was stiff, a bit too polite. Was I mad at him? Why was my voice so tight?
“It’ll change things,” he continued.
“I know. I won’t be at Bates every day. We could still see each other though, right?”
“Uh… yeah… sure. I guess.”
“You guess?” I tensed. Was he breaking up with me? “Well, we don’t have to keep seeing each other. I mean, if it’s too much of a bother.”
The words flew from my mouth before I could stop them.
“Hang on, Cis. Give me a minute to process.”
“Fine, take your minute. We can talk later.” I closed my phone. I had stupidly hoped for a different reaction. I wanted him to say, Oh, Cecily, I’ll miss you so much. Or Cecily, we can surmount any obstacles to remain together. Our love will conquer all.
Fat dream. I flopped on my bed. I didn’t recognize myself anymore. My reactions to everything were a big tangle of confusion. At this rate, I wouldn’t have a boyfriend or any friends at all to miss me when I left.
Mom came home later and I heard my parents head off to their bedroom, like they always did to have discussions. Sarah and I learned a long time ago if we sat in the hallway and were super quiet, we could hear most of what they said. As soon as their door closed, Sarah crept out of her room and I out of mine. We smiled ruefully at each other and sank to the floor outside their room.
“Have you known this was coming?” Mom asked.
“I don’t think so. There may have been signs, I don’t know. Guess I didn’t want to see them.”
I heard what sounded like shoes clunk to the floor. “Would’ve been nice to have some warning.”
“A lot of things would’ve been nice.” Dad’s tone hardened into sarcasm. Whoa.
“Don’t get snippy with me, David Evan Jones, it’s not my fault you’re fired.”
“I’m not fired. I’m laid off.”
“Same result.”
Silence. Then Dad said, “Be nice to have some support here.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry. You caught me off guard. Doesn’t your loyalty for the last six years mean anything? Were you the only one laid off?”
“No, Jim got it too.”
“Great. Wasn’t Convenient Paper his only job? What’s he going to do?”
“I don’t know. We’re both in a bit of shock. And this isn’t the end. More people are getting cut. Next month or the one after. Everyone’s in a panic.”
One of them was scuffling about. Then my mom said, and her voice sounded tired and sad, “It seems mighty cold-blooded if you ask me.”
“I’ll find something else. Don’t worry, I’ll start looking tomorrow.”
“It could take months, years. Everyone’s looking for work right now. My friend Janice’s husband has been looking for two years. Two years! This couldn’t have happened at a worse time. What with prices going up and no raise for me next year, and not to mention Sarah’s dance lessons. We were going to start her in January.”
Sarah sucked in her breath and
her eyes grew huge. I clamped my hand over her mouth and gave her a warning look. She floundered under my clasp and fresh tears began anew.
“I know. I know. Let’s remain calm,” Dad said.
“It doesn’t make any difference how we calm we remain, does it? It’s a done flippin’ deal.” Oh, Mom was in great form tonight. “Do the girls know?”
“Yes, they know.”
“What? You told them before telling me?”
“They came home and saw me on the couch. I had to have some excuse for being home before ten o’clock at night.”
“I suppose.” Her voice softened. “I’m sorry, David. This puts us in a predicament, doesn’t it?”
“I’ve been thinking. If we cut the girls’ tuition, it might not be so bad.”
“Cut their…” A pause. Then she sighed so loudly, we heard it through the door. “I suppose Bates will have to go. I hate it. I hate it.”
“I’m not exactly dancing the jig,” Dad answered.
“I know, I know. I guess I should go talk with the girls.”
Sarah and I looked at each other in alarm. We scrambled up and hurried to my bedroom. We barely made it before we heard their bedroom door open and close.
“Girls!” Mom hollered down the hallway. “We have to talk.”
“We’re in here,” I said.
She opened my door and stood there. Her face drooped. I’d never noticed before, but she was getting wrinkles all around her mouth and eyes, the crinkly kind.
“Your father told you the news.”
Sarah ran to Mom and threw her arms around her waist. “We won’t have to quit Bates will we? You can fix it, can’t you?” She raised her head to Mom. “Emili can go to public school. If we only had one tuition to pay, we could do it? Right? There’d be enough money for me?”
“Thanks a lot, Sarah. How generous of you,” I said.
Mom unwrapped Sarah’s arms from her middle. “I don’t see how it’s possible for either of you girls to stay. We can check the numbers, but don’t get your hopes up. I’m sorry.”
Sarah gasped for air. To her credit, I thought she was trying not to sob again.
“Your father feels terrible. I’m counting on you two not to make it worse.”
“Of course, Mom. We’ll be fine.” I glanced meaningfully at Sarah.
She studied her feet.
“We’ll go with you to enroll at public. We’ll need your records from Bates, which won’t be difficult. Girls, I’m sorry. You can finish out the month. We’re paid through then.” She glanced at me then fixed her eyes on Sarah. “It’ll be all right. I know it’s a big change, but you girls are strong. You’ll make friends quickly. You’ll see.”
She hugged us both then headed toward the door. There were tears in her eyes.
“Mom?” I asked.
She turned around.
“Love you.”
“Love you, too.” She barely got the words out before hurrying from my room.
I had exactly ten days left at Bates Academy. The thought looped in my brain. Ten days. Ten days. Ten days.
****
Trying to sleep was torture. Every time I woke up I heard muffled sobs from Sarah’s room. Hearing her anguish made me want to cry right along with her. But what good would it do?
The next day when I got to school, Lance spotted me right away and hurried toward me. Hurried! It made me feel so good, I almost forgot the night of misery. “Hey, Cis. You still mad?” He pouted like a puppy, all wide-eyed and full of suppressed energy.
I grabbed his hand, squeezed it, and then let go quickly before someone saw and we got in trouble. “Sorry I was so upset. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”
“Got that right.” His smile melted me. “You need to know I don’t react so good under pressure. I need time to think about stuff. And I did think about you leaving, Cis. Of course we can still see each other.”
“Just not as much, right?” I stared up into his eyes, which, right then, were the color of pure gold. “It’s not like I’m moving to a different continent. We still live in the same town, and we can make it work. And our schools play each other in sports, so we can sit together and cheer for opposite teams.”
“Rah, rah,” Lance said. He shifted his backpack onto his shoulder. “What does Farah think?”
I glanced at him. “She’s not happy.”
“I wouldn’t think so. You’re her best friend, and she’ll get lonely.”
“I guess.”
“I’ll talk to her.” We pushed through the crowd toward my locker. Why did Lance have to talk to Farah? Like it was going to help? I almost said something, but didn’t. There was a shocker. Maybe I was learning to keep my mouth shut.
I opened my locker and gathered the books I needed for my first two classes. The warning bell rang.
“Gotta go, Cis. See you later.”
I nodded.
****
Farah didn’t show up until ten o’clock. Her weird absences were becoming epic. When she finally came in, her cheeks were puffy. Had she been crying because I was leaving? I’d often wondered if I meant anything to her at all, and seeing her upset made me feel like maybe I did. The day started to look up.
During third period, Mr. Anthony gave us a test so I didn’t get a chance to talk with Farah until lunch. We met in the bathroom. She still looked awful.
“Are you okay? Why were you late this time?”
“Not feeling so good,” she said. She leaned heavily against a stall. “I feel crappy.”
“Why’d you come?”
“Because my mother is a complete witch. I couldn’t bear to be in the house with her another minute.”
“Sorry. If you’re still upset about me leaving, we can see each other all the time. You can come over and we can text and stuff.”
She rolled her eyes and sighed. “Emili, sometimes you’re such a child.”
I flinched. “What do you mean?”
“You always think the world revolves around you.”
I stepped back. “But you’ve been crying. And my dad lost his job. I’m going to lose my school, my friends, my life. I thought you were feeling bad for me.”
“Whatever. It’s not like you’re losing much. I don’t see flocks of friends hanging around you all the time.”
“I have friends!” I insisted. “What’s wrong with you?”
She grabbed my arm. “Nothing’s wrong with me! I’m sick. I want to go home. I have an insane woman for a mother. Otherwise, I’m perfectly fine.” Her words were steel marbles.
I had a sudden thought and grabbed her arm, yanking up her sleeve. My knees nearly buckled with relief.
“No fresh cuts.”
“I told you I wouldn’t cut myself anymore. I promised.”
“I’m only checking.” A heaviness for Farah pressed into me again. I shuddered, wanting to shake it off.
“See, I kept my word.”
I put my hand over hers. “Sorry, Farah. You do look sick. Want me to take you to the nurse?”
“What, so she can call my mom? There’s a happy thought.”
“Okay, then. Let’s go to lunch.”
“I’ll go, but I’m not eating.”
During lunch, I kept eyeing Farah. She was pale. Maybe she had some horrible disease. As I sat there, I wondered if it was contagious. Honestly, the dumb things going through my mind. I scanned the noisy cafeteria. It was the usual bedlam, trays clanging, kids yelling, the cash register dinging. I would miss it. I put my sandwich down — it was turning into a lead ball in my stomach anyway. I didn’t want to leave Bates. There had to be a way I could stay. There had to be.
I couldn’t eat anything else. Together, Farah and I sat there, staring off into space, saying absolutely nothing.
Later in the day, I dallied in my locker getting my homework organized. I was in no hurry to get home. Dad would be there, and I never knew what to say anymore. I was semi-afraid I’d yell. It was totally unfair, but I was mad. If it weren
’t for him and his lost job, I wouldn’t be in this mess. I knew he didn’t lose it on purpose and he felt bad for Sarah and me, but the resentment gurgled anyway.
“Hey, Emili.” Marc strolled over to my locker. He had on his quilted navy parka, which made him loom over me like the abominable snowman.
“Marc.”
“How are you doing?”
“Not so great.”
“I can imagine.” He cleared his throat. His hair was getting long, and it nearly covered his eyes. I had a sudden urge to gently push it back. He tilted his head to the side. “I keep thinking about you not being here. Doesn’t seem right. You came to this school before I did.”
“I know.”
“I’m used to seeing you. I like seeing you.”
“Me, too.”
“It’s not going to be the same around here.”
“I know. I don’t want to go to public. I want to stay.”
With insane timing, Lance rounded the corner near us. I nearly choked. His gaze darted between Marc and me.
“Hey, Cis,” he said. “Thought I’d walk you home.”
His expression challenged Marc. I felt the tension rise and saw a flash of annoyance pass over Marc’s face. He straightened his stance and his jaw tensed. For the tiniest of seconds, I thought he would hit Lance. Being the same height, they stood nose to nose for a long minute. Then Marc stepped back, turning to me. “See you, Emili.”
His face was clouded, and because I knew him, I could see the anger lurking. Then his features smoothed out into a blank expression, and he swiveled on his heel and left.
Chapter Twelve
Lance’s eyes narrowed. “What did he want?”
“Nothing. We were talking about me changing schools.”
“I can see he’s all broken up about it.”
“No, he’s not.” I bent over and pulled my chemistry book from my locker. I straightened the remaining books then stood up and slammed it shut. “Ready.”
“Not liking it, Cecily. This fixation Marc has with you.”
“It’s hardly a fixation.”
“What would you call it?”
“Nothing. I’d call it nothing.”
“It’s not nothing, and I don’t like it.”
I nearly launched into a tirade about his fixation with Farah, but decided against it. I trudged out of school with Lance following me. Was Marc broken up about me leaving? I kind of hoped so. Which was quite pathetic since I wasn’t with him anymore. I guessed I wanted someone — anyone — to be sad for me, to miss me.
The Lance Temptation Page 10