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I shrugged. "Yeah, well, they aren't really telling us anything, so we just have to let our imaginations get the best of us, you know?"
"Scary." He wrote something down on his pad.
I didn't want him to pity me, write down that I was some fragile head case. So I quickly backpedaled. "But what I mean is, money is just money. Losing it isn't like getting a terminal disease. It's easy to feel sorry for yourself, feel like everybody else has it better, easier, more glamorous. But you have to remember how good you have it. I'm, like, the queen of feeling sorry for myself, but even I have to have some perspective."
He was nodding and leaning forward like I was so wise and deep, I couldn't stop myself from spouting more of my beautiful bulls.h.i.t philosophy that I wished I believed in.
"People in my town get so hung up on surfaces, what they have, what they look like. I mean, come on. I just don't care, is the thing. It's scary, I guess, the whole crazy, like, economy thing, but my family is strong. We'll just hang together through whatever happens. Like, I can't go to Tennis Europe this summer, but so what? In the scheme of things. Actually, to tell the truth, I was kind of relieved about that."
He let out a little sigh-laugh and said, "I hear you. I got sent to California on a Teen Tour back in the day. Let me tell you."
I nodded. "Exactly. So, I actually count that as a plus. I'm happy to just hang around and swim, veg out."
He laughed again, then asked, "You swim?"
"Not like on a team. More like, I lie on a raft in our pool."
"Now there's a team I could've started for-raft lying."
"Yeah, me too," I said. "Well, if we still have a pool. I just focus on getting through the day, at this point."
He chuckled and then asked me about my favorite color (black), my favorite music (anything by bands with colors in their names), favorite food (gummy bears), my hero (Gouverneur Morris), how would I describe my style.
"My style?" I asked.
He winked. "It's a fashion magazine. Remember?"
"Right," I said. "Um, neo-post-middle-school?"
He cracked up.
Then he thanked me and turned off the tape recorder just as the door buzzed-and so did my phone.
23.
IT WAS A TEXT FROM Q QUINN:.
Where the f. r u?
I was just texting her back when my phone rang. It was Mom.
"Where the h.e.l.l are you?"
I smiled instinctively at the family resemblance, and then felt my stomach clench. "Um," I said. Six wise-guy answers popped into my head, starting with, "Getting out of an elevator," but I squelched them. I had at least that much survival sense.
"Are you at school?" Mom asked.
"No. Mom, please don't freak out...."
"Too late," she growled.
"I'm in the city, and I-"
"She's in the city," Mom said to somebody. "Where?"
I looked for a street sign. The sign on the store beside me offered tattoos or Any body part "pierced," $15. Any body part "pierced," $15. "Um," I said. "I'm at...the corner of..." I was walking fast away from the tattoo parlor, pa.s.sing a shop that sold only condoms, apparently, past another selling whips, chains, and T-shirts printed with stuff you'd probably be suspended for thinking about in my school, and then a Duane Reade drugstore and a bank. "MacDougal and West Third?" "Um," I said. "I'm at...the corner of..." I was walking fast away from the tattoo parlor, pa.s.sing a shop that sold only condoms, apparently, past another selling whips, chains, and T-shirts printed with stuff you'd probably be suspended for thinking about in my school, and then a Duane Reade drugstore and a bank. "MacDougal and West Third?"
"She's in the Village," Mom said. "Is there a Starbucks?"
I looked around. Across the street was a store all boarded up and a creepy-looking store that advertised All VHS discount $9 All VHS discount $9 and also and also Live Girls Live Girls. I tried to rea.s.sure myself that live was better than dead, but that just made me feel very young and very suburban and also a bit like I was about to start crying again.
"Allison?"
"I'm here," I managed. "Oh, I see a Starbucks. It's on West Third."
"We're coming to get you. South of MacDougal?"
"I don't know." Did she think I had brought a compa.s.s? I hadn't intended to go exploring the arctic. In fact, I hadn't intended even to be exploring MacDougal Street.
"We'll find you. Keep your phone on. You are in big trouble, little girl."
"I know," I said.
She hung up. I crossed the street at the light. A girl crossing next to me was holding hands with a guy, and they were laughing like nothing could ever go wrong. I followed them into Starbucks, but instead of trying to be slick I ordered a water and sat down at a table by the window to wait.
After a very long time, or maybe it was only half an hour, I picked up my phone and texted Roxie: Hey.
She texted back: Y r u texting a jealous s.l.u.t? Y r u texting a jealous s.l.u.t?
Because she is my bff, I texted back. I texted back.
Hahahahaha, was her reply. was her reply.
I was mad because u hooked up w Ty Sat nite. I don't even care anymore. I am in a Starbucks in the Village-after the awful callback which I flunked and before my parents come to kill me and I just wanted to say b4 they do that I'm sorry I said that about you, sorry my evil phone sent it to everybody, and that I don't care who you (or Ty) hook up with.
Send.
I waited, sipping the dregs of my water.
I didn't, is all she sent back. is all she sent back.
People said you totally did. It's OK.
People lie, she texted back. she texted back.
Yes, I thought, I thought, I know I know. But which people? It's hard to tell which people to believe, and which ones to trust to have your best interests at heart, according to my friend the devil. So how do you know what to think? How do you ever trust anybody? Maybe the answer is you never should, Maybe the answer is you never should, I thought, but then immediately another part of me thought, I thought, but then immediately another part of me thought, What kind of life would that be? What kind of life would that be? Not just bitter but also probably impossible to pull off. At some point you just have to close your eyes and jump. But which way? Not just bitter but also probably impossible to pull off. At some point you just have to close your eyes and jump. But which way?
True, I texted back. I texted back.
I like Emmett, and Ty is crazy about YOU, and even if I liked him (which I don't, not that way), why would I do that to my (I thought) bff?
IDK, I said, scrunching down smaller in my chair. A skinny person of uncertain gender asked if he/she could sit in the other chair at my table and I shrugged. I said, scrunching down smaller in my chair. A skinny person of uncertain gender asked if he/she could sit in the other chair at my table and I shrugged.
I wdn't, Roxie texted back. Roxie texted back.
Either Jade is lying or Roxie is lying, I thought, I thought, or else Jade misperceived what was going on. That's possible. or else Jade misperceived what was going on. That's possible. After all these years of being friends with Jade, after so many projects together and shared secrets and sleepovers, I still wasn't sure of her. After all these years of being friends with Jade, after so many projects together and shared secrets and sleepovers, I still wasn't sure of her.
I believed Roxie.
The new girl with the bangles on her wrists and the loud, barky laugh who hadn't gotten into any high schools, who I barely knew, who was, yes, physical and flirty, so out there, and who had every reason to be jealous because I had gotten, somehow, the thing she wanted.
I believed her.
Well, then I suck even worse, I texted. I texted.
Yes u do, she sent back. she sent back. U jump to nasty conclusions and hurt people who r good to u and u better stop it bc I am not the most patient person in the world. U jump to nasty conclusions and hurt people who r good to u and u better stop it bc I am not the most patient person in the world.
Yes u r, I wrote. I wrote. If u forgive me. If u forgive me.
Allison, u have a gorgeous soul and maybe u don't know it but I do. But at some point I am going to get sick of your s.h.i.t.
I had to smile, reading that. I'm done, I'm done, I texted back, surprised that I really felt like I meant it. I texted back, surprised that I really felt like I meant it.
Good, she texted back. she texted back. Where r u? Where r u?
Starbucks. MacDougal and W 3rd. Got a water (no more double shots 4 me) and waiting for my parents to come rip my head off. Uh-oh, here they r. Wish me luck.
Luck, she texted back as I slammed out the door and headed toward my father's waiting car. she texted back as I slammed out the door and headed toward my father's waiting car.
They both stared at me without smiling as I slid into the backseat. I mumbled a "thanks for picking me up" and they both turned around. Dad started driving.
I waited for them to start yelling but they didn't. Once we hit the highway, Mom asked, without turning around, "What happened to your hair?"
"I cut it."
"Who did?"
"I did it myself," I said.
"Where?"
"At home," I answered. "In my bathroom. Do you like it?" "No," she said.
After that, they said nothing else, just stared out the front window, and I stared at the backs of their heads for the next hour, as we drove home.
When we made the turn into our development and pa.s.sed the Magnolia Estates sign, Mom turned around and looked at me. "When we get in the house, you will say h.e.l.lo to your sisters, who are worried sick about you, and then go directly to the study, where we will discuss what in the h.e.l.l is going on with you."
I nodded, and closed my eyes. I knew we were home when I felt the car turn sharply left and then tilt, going up the driveway. I got out of the car first and heard their footsteps behind me on the walk.
The door flew open. It was Phoebe, with Quinn right behind her, and Gosia a shadow behind them. Phoebe threw her arms around me as she tumbled out onto the steps in her socks, and whispered, "They were more scared than mad. Don't worry. Are you okay?"
"I'm fine."
Quinn hugged me next and whispered, "I tried to get you all day! I said you probably went over to a friend's but..."
"It's okay," I said.
Gosia hugged me, handed me a plate with a cut-up apple and some cheese, and whispered, "Your favorites."
I didn't get to thank her because I saw Mom standing with her arms crossed, waiting for me to go to the study. I took the cheese and apple in with me so Gosia's feelings wouldn't be hurt, wondering if that's really why she always made that for me. All this time I thought she just gave Phoebe a cookie because she liked me less. Had I once told her that I liked apple and cheese for a snack? It sounded actually kind of familiar.
Just what I needed to be figuring out, right? I sat down on one of the chairs and set my untouched plate on the table beside me. The antenna of the baby monitor was just visible over the rim of the garbage basket. Mom and Dad sat down on two other chairs, facing me.
I waited for them to start.
"We have two or three questions for you for now," Dad said. "We want you to answer truthfully, because our trust in you has been severely shaken, and that is the most disappointing part of all this."
I clenched my jaw tight and reminded myself that even if they both hated me, at least one person, Roxie Green, thought I was worth a third chance.
"Why did you leave school today and go into the city, despite everything that happened last week, and giving us your word it wouldn't happen again?" Mom asked quietly, her hands laid lightly on the arms of the chair and her face serious.
I took a breath and tried to decide how far back in the truth to start. "I was never chosen for anything before."
"I'm asking about your choice to-"
"I know, Mom, and I'm trying to answer honestly."
She sat back in her seat and they both listened (and, I a.s.sumed, my sisters upstairs listened) as I explained slowly and carefully about getting to be friends with Roxie, and selling my cell phone to the devil, and that I was pretty sure but not certain that the devil was just a dream. They seemed convinced about that interpretation. I went through the whole thing, everything that had happened (well, I left out the actual kissing Tyler part) up to and including the text that got sent to my entire contact list.
"Yes, I got that text," Mom said.
"Me, too," Dad said. "I wondered what that was about."
"I figured it was probably for the best," Mom said. "She didn't seem like a very good influence. I kept waiting for you to tell me why you sent that to me."
"If I say the devil made me do it, will you get mad and think I am for once trying to be cute?"
Mom's lips pursed; Dad's face regained its seriousness.
"Well, anyway," I said, "that's what happened, and I needed to just get away from everybody for a little while, so it seemed like an omen that I should just go to this appointment and see what it was like."
"And what was it like?" Dad asked.