What Happens Now(80)

Except now with more awkward shittiness than ever.

“I meant, like, punishment.”

Mom dropped the folded blanket on top of the sheet. She didn’t scoop them up; I guessed she was going to leave them there for another night.

“Oh, yes,” she said.

“Grounded?”

Now she looked at me and grabbed the pillow. “What do you think?”

“Cool. I’ve never been grounded before. And it always felt like something was missing.”

She threw the pillow onto the floor and put her hands on her hips.

“This is no joke, Ari. What you did—”

“Hurt nobody. I heard Dani had a super-fun day with her babysitter.”

“Hurt nobody?” She took a step toward me, and I pressed myself against the wall. “What about me? You don’t think it hurt me that you lied and completely disregarded my judgment? That I feel like I can’t trust you anymore?”

Her voice broke down at those last few words. She shrank back and sat on the arm of the couch. It made her seem less steady, not more.

“When I said you couldn’t go . . . ,” she continued after taking a deep breath, “that wasn’t me being cruel for no reason. When I heard about the shoplifting and how they cajoled you into ditching your job for the day, I had a gut feeling. That feeling said, These aren’t people who are going to be good for you. Definitely not people you should go on a road trip to another state with.” She paused. “And do Silver Arrow dress-up with.”

I suddenly remembered the pin I’d bought her. I’d never give it to her now, even if Camden was right that it didn’t matter if she wanted it or not. It would remain, forlorn and unappreciated, in its little box. Maybe I could sell it online.

Mom must have mistaken my silence for me actually processing what she’d said, as if it were something that made sense.

“Look,” she said, lifting herself off the arm of the couch now. “Camden seems nice. . . .”

“Please don’t talk about Camden,” I said. “Don’t even say his name.”

“Honey . . . I’ve been where you are. There are some things I’d undo from that time, if I could.” She paused, a shadow of something flickering across her face. “And I was older than you are now. Please trust me that I know what’s best.”

“Okay,” I said. “Let me see if I understand how this works. You want to be gone fifty-five hours a week. You trust me enough to work in the store and take care of Danielle because . . . well, you have to. But you don’t trust me to take care of myself.”

I stopped, not sure how to continue. Mom was silent, probably unsure how to respond. Strangely, I liked it that way. But then there it was again: that expression on her face. That naked pain.

She dabbed something from her eye with the back of one wrist and, after a moment, yelled to the ceiling, “Dani! Get your shoes on! We’re going to Target!” Then she leveled her glance at me. “I’m not talking about this anymore right now.”

She marched down the hall and I heard her wrangling Dani out the door. After they left, I stood at the window and gave the car the finger.

I turned to see Richard, seeing me.

“Oh, come on,” I said, slipping on my boots. “You know you’ve done it, too.”

As Richard drove us to the store, I called Camden again. This time, his voice mail picked up instantly, a sign that he didn’t have his phone turned on. I sent a text message.

Call me when you can. xo Ari.

Then I deleted the xo Ari. When did I start scattering xo’s in front of my name?

When we got to Millie’s, Richard asked me to go into the back room and open some packages that had been delivered the day before. When I heard a customer come in, someone Richard knew, I retreated to the farthest corner of the room and called Kendall.

“Hey,” she said stiffly.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I’m at work. What’s up?”

“I just wanted to see how you are.”

“How I am.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I’m embarrassed,” she said, her voice low and breathy now. I wondered if she had wedged herself into a similar corner at Scoop-N-Putt. “Also, horrified,” she continued.

“Oh, good. That makes two of us.”

“I’ve never had anything with anyone and then, bam. Two weird experiences with guys in one day. I must be on some accelerated catch-up program.”

“And I’ve never . . . you know . . .”

“Been on the verge of beating someone up?”

“That,” I said, laughing, hoping she would, too. She didn’t.

“Ah, so we’re both on this accelerated plan.”

Another thought popped into my head. “I’m still confused. Did you ever get the sense Max was into you?”

“Ari, I can’t talk about this while I’m consumed with regret. The specifics of what happened are still too weird.”

We were quiet for a moment. I could still hear Richard talking to the customer, but I knew we didn’t have much time. I wanted to tell her about the way James had looked when he watched her last night, what happened at the Barn with Camden. Where would I even start?