“Abby, honey,” Mom says. “Of course you’re allowed happiness. That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you. Will you just consider what I’ve said?”
I blow out a breath and stare out my window. “I’m done with this conversation.”
Mom remains rear-facing, staring at me while I stare out the window. After the longest time, she turns back in her seat. The subject is dropped—for now, anyway.
SALVATION ARMY DINNER, Day Two. On the menu: meatloaf, dry mashed potatoes, overcooked broccoli and cold dinner rolls—no butter.
I feel like I’ve been here before. But of course, I have. We sit in the same seats as last night, and are surrounded by many of the same people. The teen mom sits at her same table, this time wearing a man’s flannel shirt. Tonight, her dinner remains untouched as she rocks and pats her baby’s bottom to console him.
My gaze moves around the room and I realize the old man with the gray dreadlocks is missing. I wonder where he is and whether he’ll eat tonight.
The baby at the next table cries harder. The young mom rises and stands behind her seat, patting his butt and swaying in time to a silent metronome. But it doesn’t help—the baby cries harder.
“Where are you going?” Nick asks.
I turn my attention toward him and find Mom rising from the table.
“I’m gonna see if I can help her,” she responds.
“Claire…” Nick warns.
A look passes between them—a silent communication I can’t decode—and Nick nods. Mom moves toward the girl and speaks softly to her. The girl’s expression is wary—distrustful. She glances at our table before returning her attention to Mom. A few more words are whispered, and the girl wavers with indecision. A moment later, she hands her baby to Mom as though handing over priceless golden eggs. Mom takes the baby and begins a weird swaying/bouncing combination, then nods at the girl’s dinner. Still watchful, the girl sits and lifts her fork while Mom stands within arm’s reach and consoles the baby. Mom is like a magician. Within moments the baby’s cries cease. Beside me, Amber gets up and moves toward Mom. She peeks at the baby and her blue eyes glisten with excitement. Then, in typical Amber fashion, she plops down in the seat next to the teen mom and begins a one-sided conversation.
“Why does she do that?” I ask Nick.
“Your Mom or Amber?”
“Mom. The girl is a stranger, but she just pushes her way in to help.”
“Because that’s who she is. If it’s within her ability to help another person, she does. That’s why she was such a good teacher.”
“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen that side of her.”
“It’s been a long time since you’ve looked for that side of her,” he corrects.
Tears cloud my vision and I swallow a lump in my throat. For the next few minutes, we watch as Mom cradles the baby and coos softly to him while Amber continues her monologue with the young mom.
“So tell me about Zach,” Nick says.
I shrug. “What do you want to know?”
“Tell me anything.”
I think for a second and a smile teases my lips. “Well…he’s cute. But more than that, he’s really nice. He’s on the football team and he plays guitar.”
“Guitar, huh?” He smiles. “An honorable hobby. Is he any good?”
“Not sure. I haven’t heard him play yet.” I smile, but a pang of sadness hits me as I remember the guitar Nick left behind when we moved. He loved that guitar as much as I loved my books.
“There’s um…” I clear my throat. “So tomorrow night there’s a football game. Zach asked me to go and watch him play.”
Nick nods. “And you’d like to go, I assume?”
“I’d like to, but it costs money to get in.”
“What did you tell him?”
“Just that I didn’t have money for admission. He suggested I could sneak in with someone else’s pre-paid pass.”
Nick’s eyes hold mine. “You know that’s stealing, right? We don’t do that. It seems like an easy solution when you have nothing—or next to nothing—but it can spiral out of control pretty fast. Doing it just once changes who you are.”
I nod. “I know.”
Nick rests his elbows on the table and places his chin on top of his folded hands. He’s silent for a long moment before asking, “How much is it to get in?”
My eyes widen. “I don’t know—probably about the same as it was in Omaha. Student tickets there were five dollars.”
He pulls his wallet from his back pocket and riffles around for a few seconds before handing me a ten-dollar bill. “Just in case it’s more. Bring me back any change.”
“I can go?” I ask, shocked.
“Yes, but only this time. We’re down to just over a hundred dollars, and we’ll need every penny. We still need to buy a cheap mobile phone for job callbacks.” Nick runs his hand through his hair as though hoping he’ll find an extra dollar or two hidden within its too-long locks.
“Are you sure? What if we need it for something important?”
“This is important, too, Abs.” Nick’s eyes hold mine. “You’ve had a shit year. You’re right about what you said earlier—you’re due a little bit of happiness. If five dollars will help—even if it’s only this one time—then it’s yours.”
My heart is light in my chest. I can’t help myself—I get out of my seat and throw my arms around Nick’s neck from behind. “Thank you.”
He pats my forearms. “It comes with one condition, Abs.”
My heart sinks and I pull away, taking the seat next to him. “What?”
“You have to resolve this situation with your mother. You’re both hurting, and I can’t let it go on any longer. She’s apologized more times than I can count. You made a big point earlier of reminding us you’re almost eighteen and you don’t always have to do things our way. That’s true—you’ll graduate in June and be a full-fledged adult with responsibilities. So it’s time you start learning to adult, and you do that by learning to forgive, or at least by trying to understand things from other perspectives. And you can start with your mom.”
I bite my lip until it stings. He’s right—I am hurting. I hurt all over, especially every time I fight with Mom. I don’t know if I can forgive her, but if Nick can—and it was his trust she violated more than any of ours—then I can try. For Nick’s sake, if not Mom’s.
“I’ll try.” I nod.
“Try hard.”
CHAPTER TEN
“THERE’S ZACH!” AMBER SQUEALS AS NICK DRIVES INTO THE HIGH-SCHOOL PARKING LOT.
Tired and grumpy, I shoot her a scowl. It’s bad enough we’re arriving at school later than I hoped, but now Zach will see me before I’ve brushed my teeth. At least I’ve combed the snarls from my hair. Nick stops the van and I jump out, closing the door before Zach sees the clutter of our vagabond lifestyle.
“What are you doing here?” I ask as he approaches me.
“Waiting for you.”
“Why?”
“Because I wanted to.” He grins and I have to stop myself from touching the divot in his left cheek.
“I gotta run to the bathroom.” I avoid talking straight at him with my morning breath.
“I’ll wait for you. Have you had breakfast?”
“No, I was planning to grab a bagel here.”
“Go to the bathroom, then we’ll grab something from the cafeteria. Hurry before all the good stuff is gone,” he teases.
In the bathroom, I make short work of my grooming. I wipe my mouth on a paper towel and stare at my reflection in the mirror. My hair is pulled back into another French braid with tiny tendrils escaping on each side, and my green eyes sport circles almost the same color underneath from lack of sleep. Tiny freckles dot my nose, and I wish I had makeup to cover them. But I’ve never worn much makeup so that’s not something I would’ve had in my cosmetics bag anyway. My lips are pale and a little dry, so I reach into my front pocket for my ever-present tube of lip balm and sm
ooth it on my lips. Much better. I tuck the lip balm away and smile at myself in the mirror. What does Zach see in me? With no answers, I blow out a breath and step into the hall.
“Took you long enough,” Zach teases as I make my way beside him.
“Whatever.” I roll my eyes. “You didn’t have to wait.”
“Hey.” He tugs my arm, pulling me to a stop beside him. “I was kidding.”
“I’m sorry. I’m in a bad mood.”
“What’s wrong?” His eyes narrow.
What’s wrong? I can’t tell him the hard freeze last night left us so cold we couldn’t sleep. Or that when we did find sleep, Nick’s snoring was so loud people in Australia needed earplugs. I settle on a lie. “Amber was in rare form this morning.”
“Ah. She’s definitely unique.”
“Yup,” I say, refusing to make the lie worse by playing it up.
“So, are you coming to the game tonight?” he asks as we approach the breakfast bar.
“I haven’t talked to Josh and the girls yet, but I think so.”
“Excellent!”
“What position do you play?”
“Quarterback.”
“Oh lovely,” I groan. “Rich, popular and the star of the football team.”
“Hey now!” Zach bumps my shoulder with his.
“I’m teasing,” I admit, choosing a cinnamon raisin bagel and a bottle of orange juice from the breakfast bar.
Zach grabs a blueberry bagel and joins me as the cafeteria lady slides my card through the machine. Our cards returned, he selects a table and waves at an empty chair for me to sit.
“So.” He wipes his palms on his jeans. “There’s something I want to ask you.”
Anxiety ripples through me. “What?”
“I’d normally come up with some grand gesture to ask you this, but I’m running out of time so I’m just gonna ask: will you go to Homecoming with me?”
Relief washes over me. My first thought is, “Thank God he hasn’t discovered our living situation.” My second thought is panic: I can’t go to Homecoming! I have nothing to wear, and where would he pick me up?
“Okay…” I stall. “What does that mean?”
“What does what mean?”
“Homecoming. I know what it is in Omaha, but what does it mean here? What do you guys do?”
“Oh.” Zach smiles. “It’s probably the same as Omaha. The Homecoming Committee decorates the gym with some lame theme for the dance, everybody gets dressed up, I pick you up and take you to dinner, then we go to the dance. It’s just a fun excuse to get dressed up and celebrate the big game.”
“Isn’t it next week?”
“Yeah—next Saturday night,” he says.
“Why haven’t you asked anyone else?”
Zach shrugs. “There wasn’t anyone I wanted to go with, so I was going to skip it. But now you’re here, I want to go with you.”
“Oh.”
“Oh?” he teases. “Does that mean oh-yes or oh-no?”
“I’m not sure. How dressed up do we have to get?”
“It’s fancy, but not like prom fancy. Girls usually wear short dresses, some of them frilly or with weird glittery shit all over them.”
Okay, so expensive dresses. I pause, trying to come up with any way I can make this work. I can’t tell Zach we can’t afford a dress, especially knowing how rich his family is. “It doesn’t give me much time to buy a dress, and everything’s probably been picked through. Can I think about it?”
“Sure, but can you let me know soon?”
“I’ll talk to my mom and see if we can go shopping this weekend,” I lie. “I’ll warn you, though—it’s so late, the stores are probably sold out. Can I tell you Monday?”
“Sure.” He grins. “But look hard. I really want you to go.”
My mind spins. Why didn’t I say no? Even if I could find a dress, the logistics of where he’d pick me up and take me home are impossible. And then there’s Trish. If she finds out—and there’s no way she won’t—she’ll make my life a living hell. It’s decided: I’m a glutton for punishment. Instead of saying no, I’ve drawn out the inevitable.
My stomach churns so I toss the remainder of my bagel in the garbage and follow Zach through the hallways to my first class—political science with Zagan. Oh joy! This day just keeps getting better!
Zach stops outside the classroom door. “Remember: you’re having lunch with me today.”
I nod. “I’ll see you later.”
I enter the room and find Josh right away, this time with Tera and Wendy seated next to him. I slide into the seat behind him and across from Wendy. “I didn’t know you two were in this class. Where were you yesterday?”
“We came together and Tera’s car stalled at a stoplight and wouldn’t start,” Wendy explains.
“I’m not sure which is worse,” I say with a laugh. “Not having a car, or having one that leaves you stranded at a stoplight.”
“They both suck. I had to call my older brother to come get us, and he acted like it was a huge hardship. Poor Braden…” Tera’s voice drips with mock sympathy. “The poor high-school graduate taking a gap year had to pull his bony ass out of bed to jump-start his sister’s car.”
Wendy laughs. “You should’ve seen him, though, Abby. He showed up wearing two different shoes and his sweatshirt inside out. He was half awake and almost connected the cables wrong.”
“Right?” Tera laughs. “Thank God you caught him or my car would’ve been messed up!”
“And to think I had a thing for your brother.” Wendy sighs. “He’s still cute, though, if he wasn’t such an ass.”
“So…” Josh interrupts, “talking about cute, what’s the story with Zach, Ariel?”
“Oh yeah!” Tera says. “What’s going on? I’ve been dying to ask.”
“No story. Why?” I shrug.
“Oh, I dunno,” Josh says. “I saw you leave with him yesterday after school, then he walked you to class again today.”
“Oh. Well.” Heat flushes my face and I tingle with…something. Excitement? “We hung out after school yesterday, then he met me at Door Six this morning.”
“Yeah? And…?” Tera prompts.
“And what?”
“You’re smiling too big for that to be all,” Wendy says. “So what are you not telling us?”
I straighten my face, hoping to hide what I’m sure must be a goofy grin. “He wants me to come watch him play tonight, and he asked me to Homecoming.”
“Shut up!” Wendy squeals.
“Yes!” Tera reaches across the aisle and bumps fists with Josh.
“I told you so,” Josh says. “The guy likes you.”
“Well, it really doesn’t matter because I can’t go.”
“Whoa! What? To Homecoming or the game?” Wendy asks.
“Homecoming.”
“Why not?” Tera asks.
Here we go again…
“I don’t have a dress and it’s probably too late to get one. Not to mention, I think Trish expected Zach to ask her.”
“Screw Trish! Why do you even care?” Tera says. “As for a dress, don’t you have one at home you’ve worn before? Nobody will know the difference since you’re new.”
“I…” My heart races. “I—I might, but most of our stuff is still packed. I don’t even know which box it’s in.”
The lies come easier now and I hate myself for them.
“You don’t think you’d find one if we go shopping this weekend?” Wendy asks.
“I doubt it.” I shrug. “Everything good is probably gone.”
“Fact,” Tera says, tapping her finger on her top lip. “You’re pretty much screwed if you don’t get one by the first week of school.”
“What if you borrowed one of Tink or Jasmine’s dresses?” Josh turns his attention to the girls. “Didn’t you guys keep your dresses from previous years?”
“Oh—I can’t…” I begin.
Tera’s eyes light up. “Yes! T
hat’s it!”
“But—”
“But nothing,” Wendy interrupts. “It’s a great idea. I have at least two dresses still in my closet. You can pick one.”
I take in Wendy’s five-foot-nothing frame and estimate her weight at a hundred pounds soaking wet. I have easily six inches and twenty pounds on her. “Sure. I bet your dresses would look spectacular if I could get them past my big toe!”
Wendy laughs. “I’m not that much smaller than you!”
I arch an eyebrow.
“Okay, okay. Fair enough.” Wendy turns to Tera. “But you and Tera are about the same size.”
“I really can’t…”
“Yes, you can,” Tera says. “I have three I’m almost certain will fit. You can take your pick. What size shoes do you wear?”
“Six, why?”
“Damn, girl!” Tera says. “I have shoes that match perfectly with each dress, but you have tiny feet!”
Wendy bounces in her seat. “Ooh! Ooh! But I wear a six, and I have dozens of shoes you can choose from.”
“You guys are nuts,” I say. “I can’t borrow your clothes and shoes like that. I’d feel—weird.”
“Why?” Tera and Wendy ask in unison, both of them giving me stunned expressions.
“Well—because.”
Tera shrugs. “We do it all the time, and you better get used to it. It’s the membership fee for friendship. Today we loan you an outfit, then we get to raid your closet when everything’s unpacked.”
I stare at them. They apparently do this all the time, so it’s not like they see it as charity. Maybe I can hold off reciprocating until I actually have a closet and some clothes to choose from. “Okay—but it might be awhile before Abby’s Apparel is open for shopping. We have a shitload of things to put away and it might take some time.”
Josh rubs his hands together with glee. “Okay, then! It’s settled. You’re going.”
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