Eyes Ever to the Sky (A Sci Fi Romance) (The Sky Trilogy) by Katie French Page B

making an obscene gesture popped up.
    “ Damn,” Cece whispered. She answered the phone. “Yes?” she drawled, trying to keep the annoyance out of her voice.
    “ Dude, see if you can get out early. There's a boat party on Carson Lake. Shaun said he would drive us.”
    “ Can't,” she said, eying Travis's silhouette as he moved inside the ice cream shop. He probably wouldn't mind that she was on the phone, but Michelle would freak. She picked up the rag, turned from the front window and pretended to wipe.  “Can you run by my trailer? I need to know if Mama's home.”
    “ I got your text and went by there ten minutes ago. Nada.” Fer breathed into the phone. “Sorry, chica.”
    Cece shrugged. “It's alright. Hey, I gotta go. I'll call you when I get off.”
    “You better, weiner. But, for real though, ask Trav if he can close up. This party will be dope.”
    “ Sure.” Cece hung up and stared at the phone. The hollow feeling had not left her stomach all day. It was after eight o'clock and Mama was still not home. What kind of trouble was she getting into? Shoplifting? Jail? Cece pinched the bridge of her nose and tried to think. She could call the cops, but if they found Cece alone, they'd take her to Children's Village. Ms. K was too old to help and Fer's mom was too unreliable. Slowly her hand reached into her pocket and pulled out the little square of paper. Unfolding it, she touched the three names with the pads of her fingers, lingering on Ben. Ben, written and crossed out, in a matter of seconds. She pulled out her phone and found his number before she thought about it too long.
    It rang once, twice. Her breath pulsed against the phone, thick and heavy. Thank God for a slow after-dinner crowd. She looked inside the shop again, the order window glowing brightly in contrast to the gathering dark. Travis and Michelle must've been in the back because she couldn't see them. Cece leaned her hip against a picnic table and waited. Cars began flicking on their headlights, yellow beams slicing through the purple twilight.
    “Hello?” the male voice said. Ben. “Hello?”
    Cece stood up, swallowing hard. “Don't hang up.”
    “Who is this?” he asked, his voice growing wary.
    “ It's your cousin. Don't hang up.”
    There was a long pause. “Why shouldn't I?”
    Cece paced on the blacktop. She stopped before she got to the street, turned and walked back toward the tables. “Because... Because we're family.”
    “ Yeah, right.” She could hear the phone pull away. 
    “ My mom ran off,” she said, pressing the phone hard into her cheek. “We…I need help.” She leaned against the splintered tabletop, her head spinning. “I can't do this alone.”
    “ Well, maybe it's for the best she's gone.” His voice was cold.             
    “ God, what did my mom do that makes you hate her?” Cece white-knuckled the phone, a desire to chuck it tightening in her chest.
    His voice came closer. She pictured him pressing the phone back to his ear. “You really don't know?”
    “My mom…she won't tell me.” Cece glanced up at the order window. Travis peered out, looking for her. She slid the phone around and waved her dish rag at him. She didn't have much time.
    A long pause. Ben's voice came back in a whisper. “Fine,” he said impatiently. “But, my mom can't know I told you or she'll flip a gasket.” His voice was low, smooth. Cece wondered at his age. Seventeen? Fourteen? Was he tall or short? Did he look like her? She could hear him shifting. “What did she tell you about why they came to America?”                            
    Cece thought for a moment, tracking a finger over words carved into the tabletop. Someone had carved “God is dead” in violent, angular lines. “She's never said a word. All I know is she's really pissed and she won't call anyone in the family.” 
    Ben blew a puff of breath into the phone. “I don't know the whole story, but my mom