The Queen of Bright and Shiny Things(68)

“Who do you think?” I ask Shane and Lila as we step outside.

“About what teacher might go for the project?” he asks.

“The home ec lady,” Lila jokes.

“So few people take that class … I don’t think that would help much.”

“Probably not,” Shane says.

Ryan catches up with us at a run. “You guys want to come to my place for a while?”

I check the time and shake my head. “By the time I get home, it’ll be late. Thanks, though.”

“I’ll come,” Lila says. “If you can give me a ride home.”

“Not a problem. My car’s this way.”

Ryan and Lila wave as they stroll toward the parking lot; his parents bought him a car in payment for his good grades. I mean, it’s not that I want a car, unless it’s an electric one, but if I did, I’d have to save every penny for a year. Shane brushes the hair away from my face, tugging on my knit hat. “I should get moving, too. At this rate, it’ll be past nine when I get home.”

In answer, I raise up on tiptoe for a kiss. His arms go around me, and he holds me as if it’s hard for him to let me go. He’s warm against the night chill; for a few seconds, I relax in his arms, relishing Shane’s familiar scent. I give him another kiss, then step back. He grimaces, but we put on the stupid reflective tape together.

“When we met a few months ago, I never would’ve believed you’d get me doing this, too.”

“You probably thought I was a total weirdo.”

He thinks about that. “No. Just … cautious, I guess. And I had no reason to be.”

“You do now. So be careful.”

“I will,” he promises.

The canned food drive goes surprisingly well. People at school are actually taking notice of Green World, and we acquire a few new members. I’m not sure if the interest will last into the new year, but it’s helping now. We wind up collecting nearly a thousand cans for a local aid program, and Principal Warick commends us at an assembly, where Gwen gives a speech and accepts the certificate on behalf of the whole club.

But a week later, the universe slams on the brakes. Apparently we’re spending winter break with Gabby’s aunt Helen. It’s a five-hour trip, and I’m not technically related to this old woman since she’s connected to my aunt’s mom. I protest at first, until Aunt Gabby gives me a reproachful look.

“She’s been asking us to visit for two years, and I’ve been putting her off…” She doesn’t say it, but I hear it. Because of you. “Anyway, this year, I don’t want her to be alone on Christmas, Sage. It could be her last.”

But what about Shane, I want to say, but my aunt doesn’t know his circumstances; she doesn’t realize that his dad hasn’t been to the trailer since he bought it. She can’t know. Which means there’s no point in arguing. As far as she’s concerned, he’ll be spending the holidays with his dad. And he would be, if his father wasn’t such a coward. Besides, Shane’s loneliness isn’t more pressing than Aunt Helen’s. I resign myself to the inevitable.

“When are we leaving?” I ask.

“You get out of school on the twenty-second?”

“I think so.”

“Then we’ll head out the twenty-third.”

“When are we coming back?”

“January second. It will be safer to avoid the New Year’s traffic.”

Though I don’t say anything, I’m quietly crushed. I’ve always wanted to kiss somebody on New Year’s Eve, and this time, I want to start the New Year with Shane. But there’s one more tactic I can try.

“Won’t you miss Joe?” I ask her.

She sighs. “Of course. But I haven’t seen Aunt Helen in years. Hopefully he’ll be around for a while. She may not be.”


There’s that old superstition about whatever you’re doing on New Year’s Day, that’s how it’ll be all year. So people try to avoid conflict and spend time with their loved ones. In my case, it looks like I’ll be sad, lonely, and wishing I was somewhere else.

I’m not looking forward to this trip, but when the time comes, I pack my bag and trudge out of the house with my aunt. She pauses at her car with a faint sigh.

“It’d be a lot easier if you would road trip,” she tells me with a flicker of impatience.

I brighten immediately. “I’m happy to stay home.”

“I don’t care if it’s more work, that’s not happening.”

I sigh and follow her down the driveway. Greyhound stops at the gas station, and from there, we ride to the train station an hour away. I don’t object to public transportation since the system moves a lot of people; it’s less wasteful. My idiosyncrasies stretch a five-hour trip to eight, by the time you factor our trip on the local bus that carries us relatively near Great Aunt Helen’s apartment. Gabby is rumpled and grouchy when we arrive.

I wish I could say the holidays are awesome and that Great Aunt Helen’s delightful, but in truth, she’s old and irascible, and she has too many cats. There’s a lumpy sofa with my name on it, and I live for texts from Shane, and What’sApp messages from Lila and Ryan. I’m reading one now, three days after Christmas, and trying not to laugh.