Eliza and Her Monsters(45)

“Watch out.” Cole grabs his ball and shoulders past me. “It’s time to blow some small fries out of the water.”

I return to the table with Megan and Hazel. Wallace returns from the snack bar with three orders of nachos, two hot dogs, a pretzel, and two large sodas. He hands me one of the sodas, sets one of the nachos between me and Megan, one of the hot dogs in front of Cole’s empty seat, then arranges the rest of it in front of himself. Then he presses his hands together, looking around at his feast like he isn’t sure where he wants to start.

“You better start playing football again soon,” Megan says, “or you’re going to wake up one day and weigh six hundred pounds.”

Wallace smiles at her through a mouthful of pretzel.

We’ve been here half an hour, and I’m no longer sure why I wanted to say no to coming here. No one’s said a word about the missing pages since we left Murphy’s, and I feel light, like bubbles fill my limbs.

It’s so much better than it would be sitting at home alone, mired in anxiety.





CHAPTER 25


“Eliza, you need to stop sitting at the computer. You’ll hurt your eyes.”

Mom has her head and shoulders through the doorway. I should have shut and locked the door before I started drawing. I straighten up and look away from the screen. My lower back screams. My eyes water.

“I’m fine.” I have four more Monstrous Sea pages to finish before this chapter is done. I planned it all out; if I do at least four pages a week, I can finish by graduation. It will keep me sane through this last godforsaken semester of high school, and it’ll keep the fans happy after the Missing Pages debacle. I’ve spent the last three days doing nothing but drawing. “Can you please shut the door?”

“No. You need to get off the computer now.” She uses her mom voice. The one that gives me instant heartburn.

“I’m working,” I say without looking at her.

“Even hard workers need to take a break sometimes.”

“I can’t take a break. I have to get this done.”

“Eliza.”

“Mom, what do you think I’m doing here?” I swivel to face her. “Does it look like I’m taking a jaunty ride through the park? Like I’m having fun? Because I’m not having fun. I have to get this finished. People are expecting it. People who buy merchandise. Those people are going to pay for my college education.”

“Eliza Mary Mirk!”

“What do you want me to do once I get off the computer? Go play sports with Sully and Church, even though they hate it when I play because I have no coordination? Watch TV, even though that’s about a hundred times more mind-numbing than what I’m doing right now? Play some board games with you and Dad? You know how that goes!”

I always end up angry. And if I start it angry, like now, that can’t bode well for the rest of the game.

Never one to back down from a challenge, my mother stands her ground. “I want you to go outside! Talk to your friends! Go do something! Get into trouble, for heaven’s sake!”

“My friends are on here!” I hold up my phone, where Max and Emmy have been silent for days. “I talk to them all the time, and you always tell me to stop!”

“What about Wallace? What’s he doing?”

“Right now he’s working! And later on, guess what—he’ll be at his computer, writing something. Probably his transcription of this, which a lot of people are waiting for, just like they’re waiting for this. And we’ll be talking on the computer. I don’t understand why it’s such a difficult concept to grasp.”

“Eliza, I can’t believe you right now.” She shook her head, hands on her hips. She still wears her yoga pants and jacket from her run around the neighborhood. “What is all this about? Do you feel okay? Is something going on at school?”

“No.”

“Then what is it?”

I turned away from her, ripping the glove off my right hand to wipe away the sweat. “It’s just Monstrous Sea stuff. You don’t have to worry about it.”

She goes quiet. I pull the glove back on and start working on the next panel. The hairs on my neck stand up.

“Your dad and I are really proud of you for that, you know,” she says. “I know we don’t really get it, but we’re proud of you. And we’re happy you love to make it. We only annoy you because we’re worried about you.”

“Okay,” I say.

“Will you come down and open your presents, at least?”

I swivel to look at her again. “Presents?”

“Yes, Eliza. It’s Christmas.”

I stare, sure she must be joking, then glance back at the computer screen and find that no, it really is December twenty-fifth. The realization almost jolts me out of my chair.

“It’s Christmas?” My own voice sounds like a dying goat bleat in my ears. I thought it was two days away. Or two days ago. Either way.

She nods. “We went ahead and let your brothers open their gifts, because we weren’t sure if you were coming down. Or when.”

“Oh.”

“So, are you?”

“I . . . yeah, I’ll be down in a minute. Sorry.”

“That’s okay. There are some hard-boiled eggs in the fridge for you when you’re ready for them too.”