She hesitated. Bingo. “Freda, David, and Connor.”
“Two boys? You’ve never mentioned any male friends before.”
“Because I thought I only had to provide you a spreadsheet with my grades, not my friends.” The resentment leaked in even though she was still trying to be civil. “It’s no big deal.”
“For you, it’s not. Where are you going? Staying? Who’s driving?”
“The whole point is not to have exact plans. We want to head upstate to a few towns, and Connor’s dad has an RV we’ll use so we don’t have to worry about hotels.”
I wanted to laugh at her idea that I’d even pretend to let her go, but I needed to save the big no for later, when I was more prepared. “An RV? That’s not safe, honey. And I know it sounds glamorous, like some cool movie, but it doesn’t work that way. You’d need to schedule sites to park, and the plumbing could get backed up, and what if you break down? I don’t think you’ve thought this through. Do I know them from your school? Who are their parents?”
A smothered groan hit my ears. I could feel the hot burn of her stare as I concentrated on the road. “Mom, they’re not part of your fancy country club, okay? They’re just regular people who are interesting and creative and want to experience new things—not pretend this crappy world full of pretentious people is all I have to look forward to.”
I tamped down my own temper. “Sorry, I didn’t realize working hard to have a decent life was pretentious or wrong.”
“You never listen. And if I have to hear one more time about everything you’ve given me, I’m going to die.”
“Maybe if I hear you complaining about everything you have one more time, I’ll die.”
That cost me. The tension in the car cranked up and the temperature dropped. Why was I always snatching the bait? But, damn, she pissed me off.
“Forget it. I’m going to be eighteen this summer anyway.”
I raised my brow. “And what is that supposed to mean?”
She shrugged. “I can do what I want at eighteen. I can vote. Make my own decisions. You can’t stop me.”
I couldn’t halt my strangled laugh, even though I tried. “Oh, yes, I can. You live in my house, under my rules, and you’re not going anywhere in an RV with some strange kids. I’d need to meet them, talk to their parents, get a detailed itinerary, check out places, make sure the campgrounds are safe. Maybe if we go over it all and you check your attitude, we can talk about it.”
She pressed her hands against her temples and shook her head back and forth like she was having a breakdown. “I can’t stand it anymore! Isn’t there anything in your life you don’t plan? Was there even one time you did something exciting or different or adventurous? God, I’ll die if I ever end up like you!”
I was always the bad guy. Sometimes I wondered, if there was a father figure around, would things be different? Or would she still hate me because I was her mother? “Don’t talk to me like that. I don’t deserve it. There’s not a mother in the world who’d allow you to take off. And if your so-called friends are doing it, I bet they have parents who don’t care. Consider yourself lucky.”
I pulled into the driveway and shut off the engine. The silence was explosive. I waited for her to rush out, scream, or come up with some more vicious verbal attacks, but she just turned her head and looked at me for a while. For a few shocking seconds, she reminded me of my mother, that same yearning and grief in her beautiful dark eyes, where once there had been love and trust and joy.
“Sure, you care, Mom. But not the way you think. Not about the stuff that’s most important.”
She opened the door and ran out before I had a chance to answer.
I sat in the car, in the dark, and watched as rain began to drizzle down on the windshield. I watched the running rivulets trickle in wiggly waves and wondered what she meant.
“I care about you,” I whispered.
But there was no one there to hear me.
CHAPTER SIX
Allegra
“Are we ready to party?”
Freda waved her hands in the air, scrunched up tight next to me in the back seat of the car. Connor shouted in agreement, pumping up the music, and blew out a steady vape stream. I liked that a lot better than the cigarettes so had gratefully switched. It didn’t give me that unpleasant burn in the back of my throat and went into my lungs smoothly, with the flavor of mocha.
We pulled into a house where a bunch of cars were already parked, and kids packed the grounds, drinking and smoking, while a small bonfire crackled with welcoming warmth. “Let’s go, ladies,” Connor said, climbing out and opening the door. We headed in, and I stuck tight with Freda. I’d told my mom I was studying at Bonnie’s tonight, and she never bothered to check up. The past week had been better than the entire year. My new friends had no qualms about breaking rules and searching out fun. For the first time in ages, my insides felt lighter, but that good feeling was still mixed with a shred of worry I couldn’t seem to shake. This wasn’t my normal life. I was a rule follower and felt as if for the last few years I’d lived in a fake, shallow tunnel, just existing. I didn’t seem to fit—with either the popular crowd or the athletes or the nerds. With Freda, David, and Connor, I finally felt heard. They listened to my opinions, and we had endless discussions about life and embraced the hard stuff rather than pretending it didn’t exist. And even though Mom had said no to my summer proposal, I wasn’t done. I’d just decided to back off and go ahead with my own plans. After all, I already had money stashed away in cash and didn’t need to get into my savings account. I even had a credit card in my own name, for emergencies. There were options, but I was still hopeful I could convince Mom to let me go without a war.
We went inside and popped open some beers, and Freda introduced me around. Most of the kids were from the public school and seemed cool. I drank the beer and hung back for a while, taking in the groups and who was hooking up with whom. There were a few hot guys, but I kept glancing over at David, keeping him in my peripheral vision. He didn’t move around a lot or look interested in any specific girls. I liked the quiet calm settling around him, as he hooked his ankle over his knee, sprawled back on the couch while he talked to some guy friends. His hair fell messily over his brows. I had the weirdest urge to brush it back.
Keeping my eyes on the time, I let Freda know I needed a ride back to my car by ten or my mom might start texting. She usually didn’t bother me unless it got too late—then I’d suddenly get a bunch of calls or a stream of texts like she’d gone into a panic. It was better to be one step ahead of her.
I went upstairs to use the bathroom, taking a few minutes to fuss with my hair. I’d worn it down today instead of in its usual ponytail. I liked the thick waves and the color, but I hated blinking the strands out of my eyes or pulling them from my mouth, so it was easier to tie it back, especially with track. But now I liked the way it covered some of the harsh angles of my face. My nose was too big, and my eyes too wide apart, and of course I’d gotten a zit on my forehead again, just like a stupid beacon flashing a signal of my awkwardness. Still, I knew I wasn’t ugly. Just not beautiful or memorable.