Little Black Lies by Tish Cohen Page A

were growing weaker by the page. It was way past midnight, and if Dad caught me, he’d be furious. Getting Dad riled up that late at night could have sent him into a maniacal cleaning fit—one that may or may not have involved me scrubbing right alongside him.
    It’s not that I couldn’t sleep. I wouldn’t let myself. I had my window open wide so I could hear Mom’s car the moment she pulled into the driveway. I thought she’d probably squeal with joy when she heard I was going to prom with Jeremy, and the sound would probably wake up Dad, but it would be worth it. Besides, Mom would stop him from pulling out the bleach and the mop.
    Her cell phone had been off all night, but one more try couldn’t hurt. Peeking out to make sure my door was fully closed—it was—I slid the phone under the covers and dialed her number one last time. Like the last zillion times, it rang. Unlike the last zillion times, she picked up.
    â€œHello?”
    â€œMom? Why are you whispering?”
    I heard scratchy shuffling sounds. A man’s voice. “I’m at work, Sarie. Is everything okay?”
    â€œYeah. I just have amazing news!”
    â€œReally? What?”
    â€œYou know that guy I’ve been talking about?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œYou’re not going to believe it! Today he—”
    â€œWait a second, honey.” More shuffling, then, “I’ll be right back.” In the background, I could barely make out the sound of water running.
    â€œMom?”
    â€œI’m here.” The sound of an annoyingly long drag on a cigarette. “Can we talk in the morning, Sara?”
    I lifted the sheet off my face just enough to see the clock. 1:40 a.m. “It is morning.”
    She let out a sigh, as if talking to me was the last thing on earth she felt like doing. “We’re cleaning up from a party here. Believe me, I’d rather be in bed. Can this wait? I’d like to be able to really focus on you.”
    The flashlight faded to black and all I could see was the glow of the streetlamp out front. The light hit the wall above my desk, nowhere else, making the room look totally empty. “Doesn’t matter. It’s nothing.”
    Now, sitting at my desk in my new room, still wrapped in my green cardigan, I pull out my mother’s cigarettes and light one, setting it on the windowsill so I can watch the smoke curl up toward the ceiling and disappear. The phone rings. Mandy. “Hey, you,” I say.
    â€œAss in chair.”
    â€œWhat does sitting have to do with anything? I’ve never gotten that.”
    â€œJust do it.”
    â€œDone.”
    â€œI can’t come this weekend.”
    â€œNo! Don’t do this to me. I’m desperate to see you.”
    â€œEddie’s family invited me to dinner. It’s like they’re sizing me up or something.”
    â€œYou’re a junior in high school. They’re not sizing you up.”
    â€œHe’s almost twenty and the Wilcoxes reproduce early and reproduce big. Believe me, that mother of his wants a good look at my childbearing hips.”
    â€œShe better look hard. You have no hips.”
    â€œI’m sorry. I can come next weekend instead.”
    â€œPerfect.”
    â€œI can’t wait to go hang out at a big-city mall.”
    â€œThere isn’t really a mall near me. More like all these little shops.”
    â€œThen we’ll hang out by the school and tease the smart boys. It’ll make Eddie totally jealous. I just streaked my hair with pink stripes and I’m going to bring my tightest jeans.”
    I seriously doubt the new pink stripes in Mandy’s overly bleached blonde spikes are going to be a hit with the male Ants. “Kids don’t really hang out on street corners like they do in Lundon. It’s different here.”
    â€œThen what do they do for fun?”
    I don’t know. I haven’t had any yet. The prospect