On the Fence(46)

“Oh.” I suddenly remembered how she told me Linda would soon be as important to me as she was to her. “No. It’s okay. I know.”

She looked at the floor. “Linda has helped me through a lot. My mom left when I was little. . . .”

I took a slow breath. Now was the time when I told her I hadn’t had a mom since I was little either. When I made her feel understood. When I became more understood myself. When I stopped being a fake. I opened my mouth, but she turned without looking up and quickly walked to the back. Who needed to be understood anyway?



To be safe, when I got home, I checked the mail. Happy to see the pile of envelopes inside, meaning I was the first one to check it today, I gathered them in my arms and flipped through the stack. There were a few ads, but not the dreaded one. Now that the shock of it had worn off, my mind spun. They used me in an ad. Without my permission. That was so wrong. Then I remembered the form the guy had asked me if I’d signed. Oh no. Some other girl signed a paper giving them permission to use her image and I filled in for her that day. This was so unfair. I wondered if she was getting paid for this.

I shut the mailbox and took a few steps toward Braden’s house. I needed someone to talk to and his was the first face that flashed through my mind. Halfway to his door, I stopped with a sigh. He was still mad at me, and I was still mad at him for how big of a baby he had been about Evan. And for how mean he had been to me because of it.

I pulled out my phone and called Amber.

“What a coincidence. I just got off the phone with Braden.”

My head whipped over to Braden’s house as if he’d be standing there, hanging up the phone. The porch was, of course, empty. I gave it a dirty look and walked up to my front door, entering the house. “Really? How’s Braden?” I didn’t mean to say his name with a hint of sarcasm; it just came out that way.

“He’s good. He told me you were going to some sort of basketball camp next week.”

“Yes. I am.”

“I didn’t know you played basketball.”

I took a breath. “I do. And soccer.”

“Cool. But too bad you’re going to be gone because I’m having a party next week. I wish you could come.”

Cool? That’s how simple it was to be myself? I just had to tell her? I felt stupid. “Yeah. I’m going to be gone. But we always do an end-of-the-summer thing here at my house after I get back. You should come.”

“Of course. Sounds fun.”

I walked up the stairs, my feet telling me I was still upset about the ad by how loud they sounded on each step. “So hey, did you happen to see the ad the bridal store put out today?”

“No. Why?”

“I’m in it.” I realized I said that sentence really loudly and looked around to make sure nobody had heard me. The coast was clear, so I went into my room and shut my door.

“What? I didn’t know you modeled.”

I resisted rolling my eyes and said, “I don’t. It’s images for their new makeup line. I was in there that day helping out Antonia. I guess the girl that should’ve been there signed a form. I claimed I was her because they were being all weird about parental permission that day. Now I know why.”

“Oh, crap. That sucks.”

“Exactly. What should I do?”

“Unfortunately, it sounds like you . . . well, she . . . kind of signed over creative rights to your image. I guess if you got a lawyer involved you might be able to challenge it. But you lied about it, so I don’t think you’ll have much recourse there. Are you in big trouble?”

“Are you kidding me? My dad hasn’t seen it, and he won’t if I can help it.”

“It’s just a local ad, Charlie. It could be worse.”

I sank onto my bed, feeling defeated. “I know.” This was my payback for all the lies I’d told lately.

“Try not to let it get to you. It’s something that people throw in their recycle bins after barely looking at.”

“You’re right. I’m glad I’m leaving for a week. Hopefully it will get my mind off everything.” And there were so many things that “everything” meant.





Chapter 28

I grabbed my duffel bag and slung it over my shoulder, picked up my pillow, and headed for the stairs.

“Dad, we need to leave in fifteen minutes,” I called down the hall, then took the stairs two at a time and dropped my stuff by the front door. In the kitchen, I grabbed a bowl and poured myself some cereal. The doorbell rang, and since I was the only one up and ready for the day, I went to answer it. “Ready” was a relative term. I had woken up, showered, thrown my hair in a ponytail, and pulled on some sweats. So when I opened the door and saw Evan standing there, I tried to resist the urge to shove my pillow in front of my face. He’d never seen me without makeup. I pursed my lips together. No. This was good. This was how I normally looked, and this would prove he didn’t care.

“Hi,” he said with a smile. “I didn’t want you to leave for a week without saying good-bye in person.”

“Oh. Great. Come in.” I stood aside. “I was just about to eat some breakfast. Do you want anything?”

“No. Already ate. But don’t let me stop you.”

As I poured the milk on my cereal, I felt Evan staring. I looked up with a questioning eyebrow raise.