My phone vibrates, and I rush to pull it out of my bag, hoping that it’s Eli. But it’s just Mom, texting to make sure that Jean-Marc picked me up. Disappointed is an understatement.
I don’t know what’s up with Eli or why he hasn’t responded to my texts. I can’t imagine he’s that busy with his dad. Maybe he’s planning to save me from being locked away in my room, like he said. A girl can dream.
As we turn onto our street, Ms. Linda is getting out of her car. She sees us approaching, and she pauses as she walks up her driveway. She is the last person I want to see right now. I’m sure she’s angry with me, too.
It takes everything in me not to duck down.
“Can you go around the block?” I ask Jean-Marc.
He glances at me. “What? Why?”
“Please!” I shout. Then I lower my voice. “Please, please drive around the block. I can’t talk to her right now.”
I look over at Ms. Linda and Jean-Marc follows my line of sight. Wordlessly, he continues to drive past my house, giving Ms. Linda a little wave.
“Thank you,” I say, once we turn the corner.
“You know you’ll have to talk to her eventually.”
“I know.” I sigh.
Eventually it will be Sunday evening. The thought of having Easter dinner with both Mom and Ms. Linda is unbearable.
Later that night, I’m lying in bed when my phone chimes. I dive for it, but it’s not a text from Eli. It’s from Larissa.
Eli told me your mom found out about the trip. Are you okay?
Well, the good news is that if Larissa talked to him, there’s proof he’s alive and didn’t lose his phone at the UNC campus or in some weird fishing accident. The bad news is he’s clearly avoiding me.
I text Larissa back, I’m okay. Thanks for asking. See you at Easter.
I start to draft a new text to Eli, but my fingers hover above my phone, unsure what to type. I settle on a simple, hey.
He doesn’t respond.
Chapter 29
The Miserables
SATURDAY
It’s a little after ten a.m. I want to go downstairs and get a bowl of cereal, but Mom is in the kitchen and I don’t want to run into her. I’m all out of snacks from Mr. Greene.
I’m contemplating ways to sneak to the kitchen and go unnoticed when the doorbell rings, and I hear Reina’s voice. I leave my room, tiptoe down the steps, and peek around the living-room corner. Mom, Reina, and Reina’s parents are standing in our hallway. Mr. and Mrs. Acosta are frowning, and Reina stands in between them with her arms stiff at her sides, and for some reason she’s wearing a navy-blue military jacket with big gold buttons. She drops down and kneels in front of Mom.
“Ms. Pierce, please forgive me,” she sings in a low, deep voice. “I lied to you and that was wrong. Please allow me to apologize in song!”
Mom stares at Reina, confused. “Honey … what?”
“Get up, Reina,” Mrs. Acosta hisses, pulling Reina to her feet. “We told you to apologize, not sing.”
“Okay, okay. Sorry,” Reina says. She gestures at her outfit and explains to Mom, “I’m supposed to be like Javert, the police inspector from Les Mis. I thought if I sang my apology to you, you’d really feel the emotion behind it.”
Mom stares at her blankly.
“Specifically, I’m like Javert from the movie version with Russell Crowe,” Reina continues. “You know, the scene when Javert apologizes to the mayor, Jean Valjean, because he accused him of being a man who once escaped from prison? The funny thing is that Jean Valjean really is a man who once escaped from prison. I’d definitely suggest seeing the play live instead of watching the movie, but I guess it—”
“Reina.” Mr. Acosta’s cheeks are so puffed up and red, his face looks like it’s going to explode.
“Sorry!” Reina says. She turns back to Mom. “Ms. Carol, I truly apologize for pretending to be my mom and saying that Chloe was staying at my house when she really wasn’t. It was a bad thing to do, and I’m really, really sorry.”
Mom nods. “Thank you, Reina. I know you were just trying to help Chloe, but you girls can’t go around lying to your parents like this.”
“That’s exactly what we told her,” Mrs. Acosta says, giving Reina a disapproving look.
Reina glances over and sees me peeking around the corner. Her eyes widen.
“Excuse me, Ms. Carol,” she says, “can I please use the bathroom?”
“Of course,” Mom says.
Reina darts off in my direction. Once she’s fully turned the corner, she grabs my hand and pulls me into the bathroom.
“Are you okay?” I whisper. “I called you yesterday, but your dad answered and said you were grounded. I’m so sorry about all of this. I didn’t mean for you to get in trouble, too.”
“I’m fine,” she says. “I mean, the only bad thing is that this morning my mom tried to tell me I couldn’t go to prom, but I told her if I couldn’t go to prom, she’d better cough up the $350 I spent on my dress.”
“Yeah, right. You did not say that.”
“Yes, I did!” She pauses. “Okay, so I actually said I spent a really long time saving up to buy my dress and it was an important investment, and she’s always going on about how I spend money on unnecessary things, like that time I bought a $200 replica of the hat Audrey Hepburn wore in My Fair Lady, but it got all smashed and ruined by the time it was delivered. Anyway, I basically asked her not to make me return my first-ever important investment.”
“What’d she say after that?”
“Nothing. That’s when she took my phone.”
I burst into laughter and rush to cover my mouth. It’s the first time I’ve laughed in days.
Reina hisses, “Don’t laugh at my misfortune!”
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I hope you had a good time at camp, at least.”
“Those kids were a nightmare. Everyone thinks they’re the next Jennifer Lawrence or Michael B. Jordan. But who cares about how much I hate being a counselor? I want you to tell me everything.”
So I do, as quickly as I can. When I reach the part about agreeing to go with Eli to his dad’s house, Reina stops me. Slowly, she says, “You like him again, don’t you?”
I stare at her. My first instinct is to pretend I don’t know who she’s talking about. “Who are you talking about?”
“Don’t play stupid,” she says. “Eli.”
I wince and take a deep breath. “He’s really not as bad as you think.”
She snorts. “You don’t say.”
“Don’t get me wrong, he’s still annoying, but he can also be really sweet, and he’s a lot smarter than most people probably think, and … I don’t know. It’s hard to explain! It just came out of nowhere.”
“Has it really come out of nowhere, though?” she asks. “This has been in the works for a long time, if you ask me.”
“We kissed,” I say.
She smirks. “Is he a good kisser?”
I nod, and she rolls her eyes.
“What?” I say. “I know you don’t like him, but I think if you gave him a chance, you’d get along.”
“It’s not that I don’t like him,” she says. “It’s just that you’re my best friend, and if I’m being honest, no one will ever be good enough for you. Not even a young Daniel Day-Lewis, and he’s British and has three Academy Awards.”
“Who is Daniel DeLewis?”
She jerks back, shocked. “He’s only the best actor in … never mind.” She sighs. “Chloe, you’re smart, and I trust your judgment. If you like Eli, I’ll support that.”
“Thanks.” I start to tell her that I haven’t heard from him since Thursday, but she’s already moving on to the next topic.
“Let’s get to the important stuff,” she says. “What did your mom say when you told her about the audition? Was she pissed?”
I nod. “If I’m accepted into the conservatory, she’s not going to let me go.”
“Chloe, I’m so sorry,�
� she says, frowning. “Something good has to come out of all this.”
Reina’s mom calls her name, and Reina sighs.
“I’d better go before my mom kills me.” She hugs me tightly. “If I can find a way to sneak my phone, I’ll text you.”
I wish I could keep her here with me. Like so many other times, I’m reminded of how grateful I am that she moved into Trey’s old house, how grateful I am to have her as a friend.
I follow Reina out into the hallway and peek around the living-room corner, watching as she and her parents leave. I linger too long, and Mom turns and catches me standing there. I spin around and grab some fruit and a big bag of chips from the kitchen before I dash upstairs to my dungeon.
Chapter 30
Resurrection Day
SUNDAY
The bathroom is right above the kitchen, so as I’m doing my hair in the morning before church, I overhear Mom and Jean-Marc talking about me.
“I left Haiti when I was about her age. I turned out okay,” Jean-Marc says. “She’ll be fine.”
“You were not her age. There’s a big difference between seventeen and twenty-three,” Mom says. “I think I know what’s best for my daughter.”
Jean-Marc makes a tsk sound. “I think you need to have a little more faith in her.”
Faith. I repeat this word to myself as I walk downstairs and enter the kitchen. They abruptly stop talking once they see me. Mom and I exchange a stiff good morning.
We pretend to be a happy family as we walk into church wearing our bright pastels. I look innocent in my A-line sundress. Mom and Jean-Marc smile and walk arm in arm. No one would be able to tell that Mom grounded me and we’re barely on speaking terms.
Mom always gets emotional at church. Today is no different. As she listens to our pastor, tears linger at the corners of her eyes, and she wipes them away. Usually, I reach out and squeeze her hand, but today I fold my hands in my lap and face forward.
I realize this is probably not what Jesus would do.
Jean-Marc has to work after church, which is unfortunate. I was hoping he’d stick around to act as a buffer between Mom and me. I end up spending most of the day in my room again, while Mom bustles around the kitchen, baking a pie. I ignore my grumbling stomach as the sweet smell of cinnamon apples wafts upstairs. Baking a pie on Easter is something we usually do together. I don’t want to care that she didn’t ask me to help.
Every so often, I find myself glancing out of my window across the street at Eli’s house. Three days ago, he confessed that he liked me. Now I can’t even get him to text me back, and I have no idea why. I am so not looking forward to having dinner with him and our two angry moms.
I hear a car door slam, and I glance out the window again. I watch as Ms. Linda walks to her front door, carrying grocery bags. She’s dressed in all her Easter glory, wearing a bright yellow dress, matching stilettos, and a wide-brimmed hat. A wave of sadness comes over me as I look down at her. Years ago, she was just like me: a young girl with dreams. But things didn’t turn out the way she expected. Now she just wants her children to go further than she did, but she doesn’t want to listen to what their dreams are.
Which brings me back to Mom and how we see things so differently. Will we ever be able to understand each other?
* * *
A couple hours later, Mom yells, “Chloe, are you ready? It’s time to go.”
Reluctantly, I trudge out of my room and steel myself for quite possibly the worst evening ever.
With one hand holding a pie and the other placed on her hip, Mom says, “I’d prefer for us to stay home, because I think you and Eli have seen enough of each other, but Linda is looking forward to this dinner, and it would break her heart if we didn’t go.” She narrows her eyes. “Behave yourself.”
Behave myself. She really means: don’t talk to Eli.
“Okay,” I say.
As we head across the street, I glance up at Eli’s bedroom window, and his light is off. Maybe he ended up staying at his dad’s for Easter. Right now, that doesn’t sound like such a bad thing.
When Ms. Linda answers the door, she and Mom hug each other, and Ms. Linda fusses over the fact that Mom baked a pie, like she doesn’t bake one every time we come over for dinner. My welcome isn’t as warm.
“Well, hello, Miss Thing,” she says, giving me a stiff hug. “Heard you’ve had quite the week.”
What am I supposed to say to that? I just stand there awkwardly until she ushers us inside.
Larissa is already seated at the dining-room table. I hurry to grab the empty seat next to her so I won’t have to sit beside Mom. Larissa hugs me when I sit down.
“I like your outfit,” I say, taking in her black skater dress and Doc Martens.
“Thanks,” she says. “My mom doesn’t.”
Mom sits across the table beside Ms. Linda. There’s no sign of Eli. I’m torn between relief and disappointment.
Even though I’d rather not be here, I can’t deny that the food looks amazing. Baked chicken, macaroni and cheese, sweet potatoes, and collard greens. I haven’t eaten a real meal in days. I’m wondering what I’m going to put on my plate first, when I hear the sound of Geezer’s feet trotting down the steps. He makes his way into the dining room, and seconds later he’s followed by Eli.
Our eyes lock as he walks to the table. I wish he could read my mind, because all I’m thinking is, Where the heck did you disappear to? He opens his mouth like he might say something to me, but Ms. Linda speaks first.
“I told you that dog isn’t allowed in my dining room, Elijah,” she says.
Eli abruptly stops and then backpedals, leading Geezer into the kitchen and locking him behind his dog gate. When he returns, he sits down next to his mom, directly across from me.
“Nice of you to join us,” Ms. Linda says, frowning at him. “We can’t say grace without you.”
He mumbles an apology and pulls uncomfortably at the collar of his button-up. He looks at me again, but averts his eyes when Mom loudly clears her throat. I glance at her, and she’s frowning at Eli hard, like it’s taking all of her effort not to yell at him.
So, dinner, of course, is very awkward. I spend the next half hour trying to catch Eli’s eye again, but he avoids looking at me. Mom and Ms. Linda are the only ones making conversation. At one point, Larissa squeezes my hand under the table. It’s nice to know there’s someone here who is on my side.
Ms. Linda brings out Mom’s pie, and over dessert, Mom asks Larissa about her classes. When Larissa is done answering her, Ms. Linda says, “Eli also has some college news.”
Eli glances at his mom and frowns. He pulls at his collar again.
“Mom,” Larissa says, almost like a warning.
Ignoring her, Ms. Linda explains, “Eli isn’t going to UNC anymore. He’ll be going to art school in San Francisco instead.”
“Seriously?” I say. Eli finally looks at me again and nods. At first, I’m elated, but then I’m disappointed that this is how I’m finding out and that he didn’t tell me himself.
“Wow,” Mom says, surprised. “Well, congratulations, Eli.”
“Thank you,” he says.
“It’s not pre-law, that’s for sure,” Ms. Linda adds. “But, who knows, after he outgrows this phase, maybe he’ll come back around to it.”
“It’s not a phase,” Eli says.
“Baby, I’m just telling it like it is.”
Eli suddenly stands up. “I need some fresh air.”
“Now, just wait one second,” Ms. Linda says. “Remember what we talked about. You can’t leave this table until you apologize to Ms. Carol for taking Chloe with you on your little expedition.”
“Wait, what?” I say.
Eli’s shoulders sag. He looks at the floor and says nothing.
Mom sighs. “He doesn’t have to apologize, Linda. Chloe already told me everything was her idea.”
“Oh, come on, Carol,” Ms. Linda says, shaking her head. “We both know that’s not
true.”
“It is true,” I say, growing unnerved by the dejected look on Eli’s face. “Eli didn’t have anything to do with it.”
“I honestly expected a little more from you, sweetie,” Ms. Linda says, turning her attention to me. “You’re smarter than this. How could you let Eli get you in so much trouble?”
I blink, stunned at her words. When I finally find my voice, it’s full of anger. “He didn’t do anything wrong.”
Eli doesn’t bother to defend himself. He stares silently at the floor, clenching his jaw.
“Who wants some more pie?” Larissa asks, with a forced smile.
Mom stands up, too. “Eli, you don’t need to apologize to me. My issue lies with my daughter. Chloe, get your things. I think it’s time for us to go.”
“Eli, apologize right now,” Ms. Linda says. “Do not embarrass me.”
“Not everything is about you!” Eli snaps.
Now Ms. Linda is on her feet. “Who do you think you’re talking to like that?”
“Please stop arguing,” Larissa begs. “Can everyone just sit down?”
“Ms. Carol, I’m sorry for asking Chloe to drive me to my dad’s,” Eli says. He looks at me. “I’m sorry, Chlo. Really.”
And then he rushes out of the room, leaving Geezer to bark wildly from behind his dog gate.
“Eli, wait.” I get up and follow him outside to his car. He turns around, and every bit of anger I held toward him evaporates. He looks so tired and sad.
Softly, I say, “Why have you been ghosting me? Why didn’t you let me know when you got back?”
He shakes his head. “Chloe, I meant everything I said to you the other night at my dad’s, but I don’t think—”
He doesn’t have a chance to finish his sentence, because Ms. Linda storms outside and tells him that he’d better not go anywhere. Eli asks if she can please just give him some space, and they go back and forth until they’re practically shouting at each other. Larissa runs outside and puts herself in between them.
“Mom, just let him go,” she says.
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