Every Other Weekend(65)

   Jolene

Stupid Adam.

He texted last night to explain that he wasn’t coming back to the apartment that weekend. He felt bad about ditching me, which was sweet and I got why he did it, but Sunday still sucked for me. Instead of hanging out with him and forgetting that anything else existed, I sat in my room hiding from Shelly and stewed about winter formal.

I’d agreed to go but I couldn’t just be excited about seeing Adam in a suit or what it would feel like to have his arms wrapped around me—my toes curled a little as I imagined resting my cheek against his chest and hearing his too-fast heartbeat—no, I had to deal with the problems first.

Of course it wasn’t as easy as the dance not falling on a Dad weekend. For one, I needed a dress. I’d never really gone for pretty around Adam, but I could do it in theory. I had all the parts, and my hair would compensate for the less impressive ones. I’d wear it down. He’d like that. I’d like that he’d like that.

But I’d need help with the logistics, and that meant a dress. Cherry was out of the question. I’d kept my word and covered for her with her parents so that she could go out with Meneik, but she’d gotten caught trying to sneak back into her house at 3:00 a.m. Then she got caught the next night trying to sneak Meneik into her bedroom. She was massively grounded. Her parents took her phone and wouldn’t even let her hang out in the basement when I was working with Gabe and the band on the music video.

I probably could have asked one of the other girls from the soccer team, but I’d never been awesome at making friends and I wasn’t super close with anyone besides Cherry.

So that meant Mom. When Shelly dropped me off that evening after a blissfully silent car ride and I found Mom getting ready to go out with Tom, I knew I wasn’t going to get a better chance.

She was dragging a black pencil along the inside of her upper eyelid when I stepped into her bathroom. One finger lifting up her eyelid made her eyeball look like it could pop out of the socket at any moment. She glanced at me in the mirror and kept lining.

“I didn’t hear you get home.”

“I was quiet.” I stared, hypnotized and slightly grossed out by her eyeball.

Mom straightened. “Come here.”

I didn’t want to, but I pried my hands free from the doorframe and moved to the place she gestured in front of her.

“Tilt your head and don’t blink.”

“I don’t really—” But she was already lifting my eyelid and bringing the pencil to my exposed eyeball. It tickled more than anything when she ran the pencil back and forth. I blinked furiously as she turned me by the shoulders to face the mirror.

“See how much thicker your eyelashes look?”

I looked but I didn’t really see a difference and my eye still felt ticklish. “Wow.” I tried to move away, but her hands tightened on my shoulders.

“I could teach you. Maybe for special occasions.” She brushed the side of one finger down my check. “You wouldn’t need much.”

My gaze shifted from my reflection to hers. “Like a school dance?”

Still stroking my cheek, she said, “I was thinking dinner tonight. I could do your hair and you could smile and tell Tom that you’re going to help me, that you want me to be happy, hmm? Doesn’t that sound nice?”

I lifted my hand to move hers slowly away from my face, but she only lowered it to rest on my shoulder along with the other. “Mom. Tom isn’t—he’s not—” But then I stopped. Because it didn’t matter. I’d told Tom that there was no money coming Mom’s way, and he’d been pulling away ever since. I saw it; Mom saw it. The truth was, I couldn’t help even if I thought more money would make her happy. Dad wasn’t stupid enough to leave anything around the apartment that could be used against him. I’d told her that so many times, and she never heard me. She never heard anything. And soon, Tom would be gone for good and all her playacting with me would be over.

So I sucked in a deep breath and took my shot. “I want to go to a dance. With a boy. And I need a dress.”

As soon as I’d spoken, the dark side flooded thick into the bathroom. I wouldn’t have been the least surprised to hear Darth Vader’s voice come out of Mom. Her hands dropped from my shoulders.



* * *



Shelly was painting her toenails when the Uber dropped me off at Dad’s apartment thirty minutes later. She looked up with surprise when I let myself in. “Jolene. Hi. Did you forget something?”

“Is my dad coming here tonight?”

“Oh, um.” Shelly started fiddling with the cap of her nail polish. “He has this—”

“He does it to you, too? Whatever, I don’t care.” I smoothed my face. “I need to ask him something.”

A wrinkle appeared between her perfectly groomed brows. “Okayyy.”

I gritted my teeth. She was gonna make me say it. “Can you give him a message? He doesn’t take my calls anymore.”

I had to think about Adam and his flushing cheeks and the chance to see him in a suit, and not the perfect O Shelly’s mouth made when I admitted that my own father wouldn’t answer my calls. Not that I called him anymore.

“That can’t be right. I’m sure he would if he knew you—”