Diva by Alex Flinn Page A

performing together. He's such a nice boy too."
    "Yeah." If "nice boy" is adult-speak for a person who sucks up to teachers while terrorizing all others … . "What did he say?"
    "He was picking my brain for duet suggestions. I gave him a few."
    Rowena is just about done telling me her duet ideas when Mom starts banging on the door. I keep talking.
    If Mom and I had struggled out of armed truce-land after school started, we went right back the day she
    admitted she knew Arnold was married. But finally, I get off the phone with Rowena and open the door.
    "Thought maybe you wanted to go out to dinner," she says. "We went out the other day."
    Mom looks at the stereo, which is playing a track from La Traviata . "Actually, I didn't mean together. I thought maybe you'd like to take the car and see your friends, I'd give you money. You never see your
    friends anymore. I have no friends .
    The song on the CD ends, and I look at her. She's wearing a blue striped suit. Her hair is on top of her
    head, and her makeup's in natural skin tones.
    "Oh." The next song starts. "He's coming over."
    "Who? No, he isn't."
    "I'm not stupid, you know. You want me out of the way, so you can be alone together." I sniff the air.
    Something's cooking—no Healthy Choice today—something with wine. I start to close the door. Around
    me, Violetta sings high As. "Forget it."
    She blocks the door. "At least turn off that racket when he gets here. And don't walk around in that outfit.
    It's obscene."
    I look down. I'm wearing the same green leotard I had on the first day Dr. Toe-Jam got all pervy on me.
    "You don't have to worry about that. I'm not coming out."
    But as soon as I hear Arnold at the door, I start feeling hungry. No, I am not just thinking about food to
    annoy Mom. I was really good at lunch today. I spent the entire time complaining about Sean instead of
    eating. Result: I'm starving. I turn down La Traviata so I can hear what Mom and Arnold are saying. I
    walk into the hall.
    "So, your daughter's home," he asks.
    "She's going out. "We'll be alone."
    "I knew I heard music. You said she's an opera singer, right?"
    Mom told someone about my singing. How weird . She always acts like it's stupid. But she must think
    having an opera singer daughter makes her seem more classy. Or at least a little classy.
    How sad.
    Mom's talking now. "She must have left the CD player on."
    I snap the music off in mid-song. Let her explain that one.
    "I made my special coq au vin." Mom's voice is like a little song—the "Chicken Song." Since when is coq au vin her specialty? Microwaved Healthy Choice has always been her specialty when I'm around. My
    stomach gives a mighty growl that can probably be heard from the dining room. I decide I'm going in. I'm
    just going to nuke my Healthy Choice, come back in here, and eat it.
    At the last minute, I decide to throw a T-shirt over my leotard, just so he can't look at my boobs.
    "See, she's home!" Arnold declares, not too happily.
    "What do you know?" Mom fake-smiles at me. "Caitlin, I thought you went out with your friends.
    Otherwise, I'd have set a place for you."
    Unlikely. But I say, "That's okay. I was just getting a Healthy
    Choice. I'm on a diet."
    Arnold's been standing since I came in, like he's ready to leave. "A diet? Pretty girl like you doesn't have an ounce to lose. Come sit with us. There's plenty."
    "Oh, no thanks."
    "The recipe really only makes enough for two, sweetheart," Mom says to Arnold. To me, she adds. "If I'd known you were dining at home, I'd have made more. Of course, we'd love to have you join us."
    On the other hand, the chicken does smell good. "Well, maybe I'll just have a little bit then. I'll get a
    plate."
    "I'll help you. Mom follows me. She closes the kitchen door and says, through clenched teeth, "What are you doing here?"
    "Having dinner."
    "But this was supposed to be our special time together, me and Arnold. If you crash our date, he'll think
    he's never going to be alone with me