tablet, which was open at the bottom of my bed. Had I left it open? “Why in the world are you taking art? What a waste of time.”
I bristled. Wished her gone, and got my wish when the dryer buzzed.
It was a half-hearted effort, but I slogged through all the college apps and sealed them in their respective envelopes. Cornell, Stanford, Antioch. Talk about a waste of time. Even if they accepted me, I wasn’t sure I’d go. Where was Antioch, anyway? I heard Faith roust herself and drag into the bathroom. When she came out, our eyes met briefly. She might’ve grunted. Her black mascara had tracked to her chin. Scary.
She clomped across the basement and up the stairs. She usually zoned in front of the TV on Saturday mornings, watching cartoons. That was about her speed.
I took a shower, then toasted a couple of Pop-Tarts and returned to my room to veg. To think. About him – not him. Her. Me. Her and me.
Stop it. Stop thinking. My eyes strayed to the dresser, where Beowulf beckoned. I retrieved the book and paged through to find the section about swimming with his merry men. Reread it. Pretty suggestive, all right. Made me remember all those times in swim team practice with the girls when we’d goof around, dunk each other, play chicken. Times I’d have to rein myself in because it was getting so intense.
I lowered the book to my lap. There were other times, too. Ms. Fielding, in German class. I was so in love with her. I used to pretend I needed help so I could stay after school. She wasn’t gay, I don’t think. Just beautiful. And Leah. God. I had a torrid crush on Leah in sixth grade. Seventh grade. Eighth grade…
My pulse quickened. Was I? Gay, I mean? If so, what was I doing with Seth?
Maybe I was bi. That would explain it. An open heart, willing to give and accept love wherever it came from. The feelings, the stirring, the awakening senses with Cece, though, I’d never experienced those with Seth. With any guy.
A crash against the wall made me leap off the bed. I charged around the partition between Faith’s and my space. Fixed my gaze on the Virgin Mary that lay in shards by the laundry room, then Faith’s smoldering glare. Mom yelled down the stairs, “This is my house and you’ll obey my rules.”
Faith locked eyes with me. She opened her mouth, then thought better of it, I guess, and flung herself backward on the bed, crossing her arms. A wave of sympathy washed over me. Faith wasn’t having much luck with mothers. I’d only ever seen her real mom once when she dropped Faith off for the weekend, but I’d overheard a private conversation between Mom and Neal. He said his ex-wife was a workaholic, that she left Faith alone too much. He worried she was unsupervised. He’d like her to move in here permanently.
Mom nixed that idea, thank God. I should ask Faith about her mother, I thought. She was obviously suppressing a lot of anger. Sure, and I should major in psychology at Antioch. Maybe if we talked, though…
Faith cranked up her death rock and slapped on her earphones. Guess not. My phone rang.
I returned to my space and answered, “Lo?”
“Hey, babe.”
My heart sank. “Hey.”
Seth said, “Can I come over?”
“No. My mom’s home.” I cupped a hand around my mouth to muffle the sound. “And my wicked stepsister’s here, too.”
He clucked. “I didn’t mean for that. You have a one track mind. Are you feeling okay?”
“Yeah,” I lied.
“We won’t do Chinese again. That stuff’s lethal; I’l still burping cabbage. We need to get together about this leadership conference soon. I was hoping we could start today.”
“Why did you get me involved in that, anyway? You know I’m up to my ass in work.”
“If you don’t want to do it, I’ll find someone else.”
“Good,” I said. “Do that.”
He hesitated. “Wrong answer.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. This wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t about the conference.
“I just thought we’d have fun working
I bristled. Wished her gone, and got my wish when the dryer buzzed.
It was a half-hearted effort, but I slogged through all the college apps and sealed them in their respective envelopes. Cornell, Stanford, Antioch. Talk about a waste of time. Even if they accepted me, I wasn’t sure I’d go. Where was Antioch, anyway? I heard Faith roust herself and drag into the bathroom. When she came out, our eyes met briefly. She might’ve grunted. Her black mascara had tracked to her chin. Scary.
She clomped across the basement and up the stairs. She usually zoned in front of the TV on Saturday mornings, watching cartoons. That was about her speed.
I took a shower, then toasted a couple of Pop-Tarts and returned to my room to veg. To think. About him – not him. Her. Me. Her and me.
Stop it. Stop thinking. My eyes strayed to the dresser, where Beowulf beckoned. I retrieved the book and paged through to find the section about swimming with his merry men. Reread it. Pretty suggestive, all right. Made me remember all those times in swim team practice with the girls when we’d goof around, dunk each other, play chicken. Times I’d have to rein myself in because it was getting so intense.
I lowered the book to my lap. There were other times, too. Ms. Fielding, in German class. I was so in love with her. I used to pretend I needed help so I could stay after school. She wasn’t gay, I don’t think. Just beautiful. And Leah. God. I had a torrid crush on Leah in sixth grade. Seventh grade. Eighth grade…
My pulse quickened. Was I? Gay, I mean? If so, what was I doing with Seth?
Maybe I was bi. That would explain it. An open heart, willing to give and accept love wherever it came from. The feelings, the stirring, the awakening senses with Cece, though, I’d never experienced those with Seth. With any guy.
A crash against the wall made me leap off the bed. I charged around the partition between Faith’s and my space. Fixed my gaze on the Virgin Mary that lay in shards by the laundry room, then Faith’s smoldering glare. Mom yelled down the stairs, “This is my house and you’ll obey my rules.”
Faith locked eyes with me. She opened her mouth, then thought better of it, I guess, and flung herself backward on the bed, crossing her arms. A wave of sympathy washed over me. Faith wasn’t having much luck with mothers. I’d only ever seen her real mom once when she dropped Faith off for the weekend, but I’d overheard a private conversation between Mom and Neal. He said his ex-wife was a workaholic, that she left Faith alone too much. He worried she was unsupervised. He’d like her to move in here permanently.
Mom nixed that idea, thank God. I should ask Faith about her mother, I thought. She was obviously suppressing a lot of anger. Sure, and I should major in psychology at Antioch. Maybe if we talked, though…
Faith cranked up her death rock and slapped on her earphones. Guess not. My phone rang.
I returned to my space and answered, “Lo?”
“Hey, babe.”
My heart sank. “Hey.”
Seth said, “Can I come over?”
“No. My mom’s home.” I cupped a hand around my mouth to muffle the sound. “And my wicked stepsister’s here, too.”
He clucked. “I didn’t mean for that. You have a one track mind. Are you feeling okay?”
“Yeah,” I lied.
“We won’t do Chinese again. That stuff’s lethal; I’l still burping cabbage. We need to get together about this leadership conference soon. I was hoping we could start today.”
“Why did you get me involved in that, anyway? You know I’m up to my ass in work.”
“If you don’t want to do it, I’ll find someone else.”
“Good,” I said. “Do that.”
He hesitated. “Wrong answer.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. This wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t about the conference.
“I just thought we’d have fun working
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