enshrouded by green.
Annie sits down first and motions for me to sit on the rock next to her. She takes a pack of cigarettes out of the little purse she has over her shoulder. She hits the top of the pack expertly on the back of her hand and three cigarettes pop out ready for smoking. She lights hers first, then throws me one and the pack of matches. I’m still in shock so I just numbly light mine and clamp my teeth over the cough that lunges up from my throat.
Annie inhales deeply and throws her head back to make smoke rings above her head. Part of my brain is spinning, trying to think of how I can secretly call my father and beg him to fly me out tonight; the other part simply watches the way her mouth forms O’s right before the smoke comes out.
She blows another smoke ring, then says, “Jesus, my cramps are killing me.”
Her words hover above my head, mixing with the smoke. I can’t really focus on her because I’m too preoccupied with the stark fear of running into her father later. I keep thinking that I should have said something, should have, at least, told him I wasn’t stealing. But what could I have said—that I was looking for a case to solve? That I thought I could be Nancy Drew?
That I had wanted to make him my father?
Annie is looking at me now with what I recognize as her peevish pout since I haven’t responded to her. I know I’d better say something, or, on top of everything, she’ll know I haven’t gotten my period, and if I still have to stay here, I can’t have her knowing that.
“Midol’s the best” flies out of my lips, and I’m glad I’ve seen the commercial with the concerned mom.
“Yeah, I’m out,” she says, and I feel like I’ve just gotten away with a theft.
I’m about to try to make a smoke ring like she does so I don’t have to talk when Uncle Michael’s voice comes from over our heads. “Isn’t Carmen supposed to keep this clean?” Silently we both press our cigarettes into the ground.
Aunt Sarah says, “I’m sure she did it last Friday.”
“That’s not often enough,” Uncle Michael answers in the new angry voice I heard tonight. The voice of the entitled stranger, used to nothing but the best, forced to deal with the incompetence or dishonesty of lesser beings.
Annie points up but I’ve already figured out that they’re sitting in the gazebo, practically right over our heads.
We hear the tinkle of ice. Annie presses her hand over her mouth not to laugh. If the ugliness hadn’t happened in my room, this would be one of those moments I’ve always dreamed of, girlfriends spying on the adults. Instead, I’m filled with dread.
“I wanted to come out here,” Uncle Michael says, “so the kids wouldn’t hear.”
Annie raises her eyebrows in a face like, tell-us-more. I think I can guess what’s coming. I frantically motion for us to go, but she swats at my arm, like, are-you-out-of-your-mind?
“I think she may be a bad influence on Annie,” Uncle Michael opens.
We both know whom he’s talking about. Annie bites on her hand to keep from laughing, like she can’t be-lieeeeve we’re getting to hear this. I bite on my hand too because I think I’m going to throw up. My eyes feel hot. I want us to get out of here.
“I found something spilled all over the inside of my briefcase when I went in it this morning. It’s never happened before so I knew it had to be her. I think she may have thought I had money in there and gone in to get it.”
Annie looks at me, puzzled. My heart is beating so loud I’m afraid she’ll hear it and know my half smile is the hardest face I’ve ever made.
“That’s absurd,” Aunt Sarah says. “Megan probably wanted to get some paper to draw on.”
I wait with the breath in my mouth turning old and sour from fear. I’m begging silently that somehow they will just drop the discussion and Annie and I can leave now.
Ice tinkles from one of their glasses. A few raindrops fall. That could save me. Maybe now
Annie sits down first and motions for me to sit on the rock next to her. She takes a pack of cigarettes out of the little purse she has over her shoulder. She hits the top of the pack expertly on the back of her hand and three cigarettes pop out ready for smoking. She lights hers first, then throws me one and the pack of matches. I’m still in shock so I just numbly light mine and clamp my teeth over the cough that lunges up from my throat.
Annie inhales deeply and throws her head back to make smoke rings above her head. Part of my brain is spinning, trying to think of how I can secretly call my father and beg him to fly me out tonight; the other part simply watches the way her mouth forms O’s right before the smoke comes out.
She blows another smoke ring, then says, “Jesus, my cramps are killing me.”
Her words hover above my head, mixing with the smoke. I can’t really focus on her because I’m too preoccupied with the stark fear of running into her father later. I keep thinking that I should have said something, should have, at least, told him I wasn’t stealing. But what could I have said—that I was looking for a case to solve? That I thought I could be Nancy Drew?
That I had wanted to make him my father?
Annie is looking at me now with what I recognize as her peevish pout since I haven’t responded to her. I know I’d better say something, or, on top of everything, she’ll know I haven’t gotten my period, and if I still have to stay here, I can’t have her knowing that.
“Midol’s the best” flies out of my lips, and I’m glad I’ve seen the commercial with the concerned mom.
“Yeah, I’m out,” she says, and I feel like I’ve just gotten away with a theft.
I’m about to try to make a smoke ring like she does so I don’t have to talk when Uncle Michael’s voice comes from over our heads. “Isn’t Carmen supposed to keep this clean?” Silently we both press our cigarettes into the ground.
Aunt Sarah says, “I’m sure she did it last Friday.”
“That’s not often enough,” Uncle Michael answers in the new angry voice I heard tonight. The voice of the entitled stranger, used to nothing but the best, forced to deal with the incompetence or dishonesty of lesser beings.
Annie points up but I’ve already figured out that they’re sitting in the gazebo, practically right over our heads.
We hear the tinkle of ice. Annie presses her hand over her mouth not to laugh. If the ugliness hadn’t happened in my room, this would be one of those moments I’ve always dreamed of, girlfriends spying on the adults. Instead, I’m filled with dread.
“I wanted to come out here,” Uncle Michael says, “so the kids wouldn’t hear.”
Annie raises her eyebrows in a face like, tell-us-more. I think I can guess what’s coming. I frantically motion for us to go, but she swats at my arm, like, are-you-out-of-your-mind?
“I think she may be a bad influence on Annie,” Uncle Michael opens.
We both know whom he’s talking about. Annie bites on her hand to keep from laughing, like she can’t be-lieeeeve we’re getting to hear this. I bite on my hand too because I think I’m going to throw up. My eyes feel hot. I want us to get out of here.
“I found something spilled all over the inside of my briefcase when I went in it this morning. It’s never happened before so I knew it had to be her. I think she may have thought I had money in there and gone in to get it.”
Annie looks at me, puzzled. My heart is beating so loud I’m afraid she’ll hear it and know my half smile is the hardest face I’ve ever made.
“That’s absurd,” Aunt Sarah says. “Megan probably wanted to get some paper to draw on.”
I wait with the breath in my mouth turning old and sour from fear. I’m begging silently that somehow they will just drop the discussion and Annie and I can leave now.
Ice tinkles from one of their glasses. A few raindrops fall. That could save me. Maybe now
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