Eliza and Her Monsters(52)

I shut my mouth. So much for trying.

“Aw, little Churchy in choir.” Sully laughs. “You could hang out with Macy Garrison all day if you were in choir.”

“I thought you were going to ask Macy Garrison out before Christmas?” Dad looks at us in the rearview mirror with a twinkle in his eye. “What happened with that?”

“I never said I would,” Church grumbles. Then he shoots me a dirty look. “Thanks a lot. Why didn’t you stay home with your boyfriend?”

“Mom and Dad wouldn’t let her,” Sully says, still laughing. “They think she’s going to invite him over for sex.”

I am a volcano.

“Oh, Eliza, that’s not why we did this,” Mom takes her eyes off the road for a second to look back at me. “If you and Wallace decide you want to take that step, it’s completely up to you—that’s why we had that doctor’s appointment.”

“Mom, stop.” My voice drops.

“It’s completely healthy for kids your age to be, you know, getting together.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t yet,” Dad chimes in. “Junior year of high school was the first time your mother and I—”

“STOP!” Sully, Church, and I yell it at the same time, clapping our hands over our ears. Mom and Dad look nonplussed and stop speaking.

We drive in silence for three more minutes before Mom pipes up again.

“Just saying. It’s how we made all three of you.”

“Jesus,” Sully groans.

We park at the campgrounds and have to hike like two miles uphill to get to where we’re setting up the tents. I knew before coming out here that this would be no walk in the park. My parents and brothers load themselves up with gear and start out with a spring in their steps. I’m carrying my own stuff—two days’ worth of clothes, snacks, bug spray, and sunblock—and wearing my old baggy clothes and the hiking shoes Mom got me because she didn’t want me twisting my ankles.

Almost as soon as we begin up the path, sweat starts running between my shoulder blades. The sun beats down through the trees. It’s chilly late March and yet still terrible. I fall behind instantly. Huffing, puffing, wiping sweat from my eyes. My back is already killing me. My parents soldier on, followed by Sully and Church, whose voices scare birds out of the trees. They don’t even look back to see where I am. It’s not as if it matters; we’re following a defined dirt trail laid out between the trees to a cleared-out campsite up in the woods. I used to come when I was younger, but in recent years I’ve been able to wriggle out of it by feigning sickness. I tried again this morning, but Dad said I’d feel better once I was out in the fresh air. I know exactly where they’re going and how to get there, so I stop to sit on a fallen log by the path and pull out my phone.

My signal’s not great out here, but I’m still getting it. I go to my messages. There’s nothing from Wallace, but I told him I was going to be out in the woods for two days, so he probably won’t send anything until he knows I can read it. There are a few new things from Emmy and Max, though. I open the chat window.

Apocalypse_Cow: you should tell that professor to go stick his head up his ass.

Apocalypse_Cow: but with better words. obviously. can’t have a twelve-year-old saying things like that.

emmersmacks: Im fourteen

emmersmacks: I totally could say that if I wanted

emmersmacks: But I wont cause I need a good grade on this test

Apocalypse_Cow: are you going to have him again next semester?

emmersmacks: No this is the last class with him

emmersmacks: But hes the only one who teaches it so if I dont pass I have to take it with him again

Apocalypse_Cow: that’s bullshit. you should go to the department head and say he’s discriminating against you because of your age.

4:31 p.m. (MirkerLurker has joined the message)

MirkerLurker: What’s going on?

Apocalypse_Cow: em’s shitty calc teacher keeps singling her out and making fun of her in class because of how young she is.

emmersmacks: Hes not making fun of me

emmersmacks: He calls me a baby every time I point out something wrong with his equations

emmersmacks: Like I was the one who got the answer wrong and Im just upset about it or something

I love that about Max and Emmy. Weeks without a long conversation, and they let me back into the fold like nothing has changed.

MirkerLurker: That sounds like he’s making fun of you.

MirkerLurker: Actually, it sounds like he’s an asshole. Teachers who call their students babies are assholes, no matter what the ages of the parties involved. You should tell the department head.

emmersmacks: Yeah

emmersmacks: Maybe

emmersmacks: Like I said, I just have to get through the rest of this semester and pass and then I dont have to see him again

Apocalypse_Cow: we’re serious, em. this is not okay. he shouldn’t be doing things like that.

emmersmacks: Can we change the topic now??

“Got a little winded, Eggs?”

I jump and look up. Dad trots back down the trail, smiling until he sees the phone in my hands. I try to stuff it back in my pocket, but it’s too late.

“I told you I wasn’t feeling good,” I say, picking myself up and brushing my pants off.