16 Things I Thought Were True by Janet Gurtler Page B

years. Mom makes a sound in her throat like she’s covering up laughter. I roll my eyes and step between Amy and Jake.
    â€œI meant dork in the nicest possible way. Okay. We should go,” I say to Amy and put my hand on her back to move her out the front door. I make a mental note to explain to her the concept of tact.
    Amy digs her feet in, giving my mom a laundry list of the routes we’re taking and how she’s had the car inspected and her dad gave her his credit card. Amy tells her she’s loaded up on snacks and drinks, and we’re completely prepared for the trip.
    Jake is watching us as if he’s mesmerized. I wonder if someone took his brain out or if he’s developed a drug habit. Jake doesn’t stare at girls like that. And his cheeks are blotchy. I look at Amy and try to see her through his eyes, but all I see is a tiny, quirky girl with brown hair and a skinny build. She’s pretty, but nothing like the girls Josh dates. Of course, part of the beauty of Jake is that he sees people from the inside. And whatever it is inside of Amy, he seems to like it.
    â€œCome on, motor mouth,” I say to Amy, and she laughs, but Jake gives me a dirty look and it makes me giggle inside.
    â€œText me,” Mom says, and her voice breaks at the end of the sentence. I look at her pale face with her naked lips pressed tightly together, and my heart swoops. It hits me with a force. I’m going to meet my father. I wonder if the fear in her eyes is for me—or her.
    â€œI’ll be on roaming, so it’ll be expensive.” I don’t want to chat with her while I’m doing this. It’s too confusing. “But if there’s an emergency, text me.” I stress the word emergency . I don’t want to deal with her drama, but I am worried about her health.
    â€œI can give you my cell number,” Amy says to my mom. “My dad bought me a texting plan for the weekend, and I have unlimited texting and calling from Canada.” She looks at my mom and then at me.
    â€œNice of him,” Jake says.
    â€œHe worries.”
    â€œI’ll get a pen and paper,” Mom says.
    â€œNo. Wait here. I’ll be right back.” Jake darts into the living room and trots back holding his phone. “Here, put your number in my contact list. Just in case.” He hands her his phone. “I’ll text it to my mom after.”
    â€œSure. Yeah.” She types in her info and then looks up at him, and they both smile. I watch the both of them.
    â€œMy dad invented Sour Cats,” she tells Jake, as if it’s natural she should tell him everything about her. Based on Jake’s goofy smile, he doesn’t mind.
    â€œDid I tell you how she pretended to be poor and made me give her five bucks?” I ask.
    â€œI did not make you,” she says and glares at me then looks at Jake. “I got caught eating popcorn at work. It was the first excuse that came to mind. I felt really bad about it. She made me take her five dollars.”
    I barely resist the urge to tease her some more.
    â€œI only got the job at Tinkerpark to make new friends. I was homeschooled for a long time.”
    â€œYeah. People probably don’t get you,” Jake says. “That happens to me all the time.”
    I look back and forth between them and then glance at Mom. Her eyebrows are raised and she’s trying to cover her amused smile with her hand.
    Miraculously, Amy doesn’t say anything—but she’s beaming.
    Jake glances at her. “So, um, text me. When you get there. Let me know how you’re doing. Um. How Morgan is doing. You know, so we don’t have to rack up her phone bill.” I open my mouth then close it and put down my gym bag to slide on my laceless sneakers.
    â€œBe careful, Morgan, okay? Don’t let this guy hurt you.” Jake reaches for my bag. “I’ll carry it to Amy’s car for you,” he