makes a promise to stay around, like a wedding vow or something, then they should keep it or not bother making it in the first place. Because that’s just crap if they leave and how can you believe anything they’ve said before or will say again?
45.
T he next day I call Angelique’s cell, but all I get is her voice mail. I mope around all morning, until finally Mom asks if I want to help her clean out the kitchen cupboards.
“Sorry, can’t,” I say. “I promised Desi I’d visit.”
Which is kind of true.
I think about calling Margot and getting her to meet me there, but I hang up after a couple of rings. I get a bottle of soda and tell Mom I’ll be home in a couple of hours. Then I walk to Desi’s house. A dose of Desi was just what I needed.
I know I shouldn’t be, but I’m surprised when Margot answers the door.
“Hello,” she says coolly, standing aside to let me in.
“How’s the patient?” I ask.
“If she’s sick, I’m a two-humped camel.”
We both laugh, then fall silent. I want to ask her about her Friday night, but Desi calls out, “Who is it?” and we tramp into Desi’s room.
Desi is wearing pajamas, socks, a sparkly scarf, and pink earmuffs. Her room is filled with stuffed toys and posters and knickknacks that line her windowsill and bedside table.
“We were just talking about you!” says Desi, flinging her arms around me for a quick hug.
As I remove myself, I see Margot give Desi a warning look.
“You were?” I ask.
“Is that for me?” Desi says, pointing to the bottle of soda. “That’s just what I feel like.”
“I’ll get some glasses,” says Margot, escaping to the kitchen.
Then Desi launches into how sick she’s been feeling, how high her temperature had got to, how bored she was.
“You realize you missed out on the science test,” says Margot as she comes back in balancing glasses.
“Oh, no!” Desi pouts, looking miserable.
“Oh, no!” Margot and I say together with oversized pouts of our own.
Then Margot and I are laughing and Desi finally joins in.
“I actually studied for that test,” says Desi.
“Studied?” asks Margot.
“I brought my textbooks home,” says Desi.
Then we talk about nothing in particular for the next two hours and everything feels like it used to. Well, nearly. Margot doesn’t talk about her Friday night. Neither do I. And Desi doesn’t ask either of us.
“Do you think I’m loud?” I suddenly ask them both. Dylan’s opinion of me had been niggling away at the back of my mind. “Do you think I have too much attitude?”
“Attitude?” repeats Margot, shaking her head as if she can’t believe what she’s hearing. “Loud?”
“Sure,” says Desi. She shrieks as I whack her with a pillow. “What?” says Desi. “What did I say?”
“Do you have anything to eat?” asks Margot. “I’m starving.”
We grab something from Desi’s kitchen, which is an amazing treasure trove of chips, candy, and chocolate. Desi manages to eat a lot for a girl who’s sick, and Margot keeps us entertained with a Hitchcock movie that had been on TV late during the week, called The Birds . The movie is set in a little seaside town that is attacked by birds. Lots of birds. There is a scene in the movie where the main characters are hiding, locked in their house, although they can hear the birds outside pecking at the building.
“It’s classic Hitchcock,” says Margot. “It’s not just a movie about outside forces. It’s also about the forces within us.”
Desi says she knows what Margot means. She then goes on to talk about what the lead actress is or isn’t wearing in Hearts Are.
All the while I can feel the elephant in the corner of the room.
Everyone knows it’s there but no one’s talking about it. I want to tell them about the drama of Friday night and Angelique, but the right words won’t come. Maybe it’s because I don’t want Margot to turn cold and act like she doesn’t care. Maybe it’s because
45.
T he next day I call Angelique’s cell, but all I get is her voice mail. I mope around all morning, until finally Mom asks if I want to help her clean out the kitchen cupboards.
“Sorry, can’t,” I say. “I promised Desi I’d visit.”
Which is kind of true.
I think about calling Margot and getting her to meet me there, but I hang up after a couple of rings. I get a bottle of soda and tell Mom I’ll be home in a couple of hours. Then I walk to Desi’s house. A dose of Desi was just what I needed.
I know I shouldn’t be, but I’m surprised when Margot answers the door.
“Hello,” she says coolly, standing aside to let me in.
“How’s the patient?” I ask.
“If she’s sick, I’m a two-humped camel.”
We both laugh, then fall silent. I want to ask her about her Friday night, but Desi calls out, “Who is it?” and we tramp into Desi’s room.
Desi is wearing pajamas, socks, a sparkly scarf, and pink earmuffs. Her room is filled with stuffed toys and posters and knickknacks that line her windowsill and bedside table.
“We were just talking about you!” says Desi, flinging her arms around me for a quick hug.
As I remove myself, I see Margot give Desi a warning look.
“You were?” I ask.
“Is that for me?” Desi says, pointing to the bottle of soda. “That’s just what I feel like.”
“I’ll get some glasses,” says Margot, escaping to the kitchen.
Then Desi launches into how sick she’s been feeling, how high her temperature had got to, how bored she was.
“You realize you missed out on the science test,” says Margot as she comes back in balancing glasses.
“Oh, no!” Desi pouts, looking miserable.
“Oh, no!” Margot and I say together with oversized pouts of our own.
Then Margot and I are laughing and Desi finally joins in.
“I actually studied for that test,” says Desi.
“Studied?” asks Margot.
“I brought my textbooks home,” says Desi.
Then we talk about nothing in particular for the next two hours and everything feels like it used to. Well, nearly. Margot doesn’t talk about her Friday night. Neither do I. And Desi doesn’t ask either of us.
“Do you think I’m loud?” I suddenly ask them both. Dylan’s opinion of me had been niggling away at the back of my mind. “Do you think I have too much attitude?”
“Attitude?” repeats Margot, shaking her head as if she can’t believe what she’s hearing. “Loud?”
“Sure,” says Desi. She shrieks as I whack her with a pillow. “What?” says Desi. “What did I say?”
“Do you have anything to eat?” asks Margot. “I’m starving.”
We grab something from Desi’s kitchen, which is an amazing treasure trove of chips, candy, and chocolate. Desi manages to eat a lot for a girl who’s sick, and Margot keeps us entertained with a Hitchcock movie that had been on TV late during the week, called The Birds . The movie is set in a little seaside town that is attacked by birds. Lots of birds. There is a scene in the movie where the main characters are hiding, locked in their house, although they can hear the birds outside pecking at the building.
“It’s classic Hitchcock,” says Margot. “It’s not just a movie about outside forces. It’s also about the forces within us.”
Desi says she knows what Margot means. She then goes on to talk about what the lead actress is or isn’t wearing in Hearts Are.
All the while I can feel the elephant in the corner of the room.
Everyone knows it’s there but no one’s talking about it. I want to tell them about the drama of Friday night and Angelique, but the right words won’t come. Maybe it’s because I don’t want Margot to turn cold and act like she doesn’t care. Maybe it’s because
Similar Books
