Tease(56)

“You know, Ronny Davidson’s parents? Wanted to build a pool in their yard? Next door to Jacob’s house? Anyway, it was back when Jacob’s sisters were really little, and apparently the fence was too low and they said it was, like, a drowning hazard. So they couldn’t build it.”

I still have no idea what she’s talking about, but I’m afraid to set her off again, so I nod like I get it.

She can always tell when I’m lying, though, and she rolls her eyes at me. “So my point is, even if he’d, like, gotten her pregnant or something, Jacob’s parents would’ve slapped the whole thing down in a second. It’s, like, a hobby for them.”

I nod again. I actually feel a little better, knowing that no one’s getting arrested. “Her parents should still put Emma in another school,” I say. “An all-girls’ school.”

“I know, right? She’d probably just sleep with one of the teachers, though.”

“Totally.”

“Anyway, what are you wearing tonight?” Brielle asks, flipping her hair again.

My nails are done, but I stay in the chair next to hers, describing the tank top and jeans I have picked out for the thing at Jacob’s. It’s not really a party, so I’m trying to not look like I’m trying too hard. But Dylan will probably be there, so I want to look better than Emma.

I don’t say that, but Brielle gets it anyway. When our nails are dry she pays, and then we go to Forever 21 to look for better shirt options. By the time we leave the mall I have a new top with aqua sequins and pretty yellow nails and a smile on my face. Brielle and I haven’t spent this much time together, just the two of us, in forever. It’s nice not to have Noelle or the senior guys around.

I wish we could stay out until it’s time to go to the party-hang-thing, but I’m already in enough trouble at home. Mom wanted me back in time to take Alex to practice, and when I called to tell her I wouldn’t make it, she hung up on me. Clearly she’s gonna be mad about Mrs. Putnam’s call for a while. When Brielle drops me off I just stand outside the door for a minute, wondering if there’s a way to sneak off in my car. But I hear yelling inside, and I figure I should go in to make sure the boys aren’t being punished just because Mom’s mad at me. Besides, I need my gas allowance from her. It’s really for driving the boys around, but I’ll need it before tonight.

I step through the door and the volume of the yelling goes way up. “A couple hundred dollars to fly out here is not too much for your daughter!” Mom’s shouting. There’s a pause. “I work too, Doug, don’t give me that crap. She’s our daughter. There’s obviously a prob—” Another pause.

Great. She’s on the phone with Dad again.

For another minute I just stand there, still holding my bags and wearing my coat. Mom’s in the kitchen but she can’t see me from here. I look down at my new nails and wonder how they can be so damn cheerful.

“It’s on Wednesday afternoon,” Mom says into the phone. “I’m leaving work early and—” Pause. I guess he keeps interrupting her. “Yes, she’s going to be there, she—”

I look up. Wednesday afternoon? She? What the . . .

“I’m worried, okay?” I hear my mom’s voice drop from a yell to a tired, pleading tone, and my throat seizes up. “I’m just worried. I just think you should come out. You can stay here for the night. The principal really wants us both there, and the other girl’s parents are definitely going to be—”

There’s another pause and my mind goes wild trying to figure out what’s happening. My parents, together, having some kind of meeting at my school? That I have to go to, it sounds like. With . . . who? Not Emma’s parents? If my dad is actually coming out for it, during a workweek, I must be in a massive amount of trouble. Right? What else could they be talking about?

I wiggle out of my coat, dropping it and my bags on the main stairs, and practically run down to the basement. Tommy and Alex are sprawled on the old sectional couch, in the dark, watching a movie on TV. One look and I can see it’s not something they’re supposed to be watching—even if I hadn’t glanced at the screen and seen guns, I’d know from the way they both sit up guiltily, Tommy grabbing the remote like he was just about to change the channel.

“Whatever,” I say, waving my hand at him. “I won’t tell Mom. I think I’m in trouble, anyway, so it’s probably easier if you are too.”

Alex’s eyes are wide. “What were you watching?” he asks.

I surprise myself by laughing. Then I go over and ruffle his hair, which he hates, and scoot in between the boys. “Don’t worry about it, little A,” I tell him. Turning to Tommy I say, “What is this? Isn’t there, like, a Kardashian episode on?”

“Ewww,” both boys groan at once. We’re not allowed to watch those shows, either, even if they’re not violent. I secretly do, though. Mom has a lot of TV rules for someone who’s put a television in the basement and computers in her kids’ rooms. Though I guess we follow a lot of those rules anyway.

“It’s kind of dumb,” Tommy says, pointing the remote at the TV. Two guys in masks are holding up a bank. “They’re surfers, but they rob banks? And they wear costumes, like the Joker in that Batman movie?”