Ella's Twisted Senior Year(11)

“We have to be out of here by noon,” Dad says, sounding resigned. “If we stay another night, we’ll max out the credit card and we can’t let that happen.”

“I understand Ben, but where else are we going to go? Our parents both live too far away to commute to work.”

“How’s the loan idea going?” Dad asks.

Mom’s silent for a long time and I imagine her shaking her head, or maybe holding back tears. When she speaks, I can’t tell what emotion is on her face. “My parents think we can figure this out ourselves. You know how they are.”

It sounds like they’re hugging, and even over all of the arguing, I’m glad they still love each other. I sit up and pull off the blankets, turning to face my parents.

“We just need a game plan,” I say, somehow thinking that if I keep talking, the answer to our problems will fall out of my mouth. “I can stay with April and Dad, can’t you stay at the station like you do on overnight shifts? Mom, could you stay with Aunt Donna and just drive further to work?” Aunt Donna lives in a halfway house so it’s not like we could all stay, but I figure one person could stay temporarily.

Mom shakes her head. “We’re not splitting up. And this is just temporary, Ella. You don’t need to worry. We’ll get paid soon and we should have a tax refund in a couple weeks. We’ll rent an apartment or something.”

Dad nods while he makes coffee in the hotel’s tiny coffee pot. “This is just a little setback, Punk. You don’t need to worry.”

“How long will it take to build our house back?” I ask.

My parents exchange a look. “We won’t be building it back. We’re putting the land for sale.”

“I grew up in that house,” I say, frowning as my chest tightens.

Mom nods. “But it’s not the same house anymore. These things happen. We’ll bounce back.”

I nod, and the lump in my throat tells me that she’s wrong.

We spend the weekend at our old house, packing up as many things as we can find that are still intact. I find some clothes that are still wearable after being washed, a few Knick knacks and one bottle of nail polish.

Ethan’s truck is in his driveway both days, but he never come outside. I still don’t know what he was thinking when he tried to hug me. One thing I do know for sure: Ethan is not the same scrawny kid from my childhood. He’s filled out in every possible way and his hug felt like I was being wrapped in solid muscles. That’s why I had to push him away. He’s not my friend anymore. He’s Kennedy’s boyfriend.

*

Although my parents take off work on Monday, they make me go to school. April meets me next to the massive shark statue that guards the entrance near the student parking lot. My best friend is tall and thin which makes a sharp contrast to my short, kind of stocky frame. She gives me a quick hug, making sure not to crash into me with her coffee.

“Did you bring me one by chance?” I ask, giving her a big, innocent grin.

She holds out the paper coffee cup and my name is scribbled on the side. “I already drank mine,” she says.

“Thanks,” I say, taking the cup. “You are the best, best friend ever.”

She flips her hair over her shoulder. “I know.”

We still have a few minutes until the first period bell rings and April wants to know everything that happened this weekend. I wasn’t able to tell her all the details since I was never away from my parents for long enough to talk privately. It’s been a rough forty-eight hours and only part of that has to do with losing my house.

“It’s weird,” I explain as we walk toward first period. “Like I was watching TV and I thought that my feet were cold, so I wanted socks. And then I realized all my socks are gone. Or like, I had a craving for a honey bun and then I realized I can’t go into the kitchen anymore and get one.”

April frowns. “That is so sucky. Your whole life is like, gone.” She makes a poof gesture with her hands.

“I know. Mom cried for ten minutes when she found the hard drive with our family photos on it. It still works so she’s like freaking out about it.”

I’m trying really hard to maintain the conversation, but it’s nearly impossible as we walk down the hallway. Everyone is staring at me. And I’m pretty sure this isn’t one of those situations where you think you’re being watched but you’re really not.

“Hey, April?” I say quietly.

She nods as if reading my mind. “People are staring.”

My cheeks redden. “Why?” I groan.

“Well the rumors are you’re the only one who lost their house. Some freshman kid lost their barn and this other guy’s grandfather got hurt really bad. But you’re the big story. Your dad was on the news and everything.”

I let out a slow breath, watching the red specks in the tile flooring as we walk. My dad is pretty well known around here because when we were younger, he’d always volunteer for career day and tell stories about gory disgusting EMT patients he’s had over the years. In a small town like Hockley, everyone knows my dad.

“This is going to be a nightmare,” I mutter as I lean against the lockers outside of my first period class.

April puts an arm around my shoulders. “My mom told me that you’re all welcome to come crash in our living groom if you need.”