A statue can't eat, Tamara reminded herself. Sir Bedivere had no use for what we took and we did leave one for the janitor or whoever comes in and eats the offerings. We weren't stingy. It's not like we stole anything. Tamara bit her lip.
Great, now I'm lying to myself she thought as she turned her pillow over again. Why wouldn't the damn thing just stay cold? She flopped onto her back looking up through the dark at the ceiling. She was going to have to tell Greg what they did, because no matter what Hayden said, it was theft.
Tamara shivered under the blankets. October was cooler this year than it ever had been in her memory. Her mom lived by the iron fisted rule of not running the heat until November third, so until then she was just going to have to tough it out. Comforted to know that her anxiety was about nothing more than having allowed herself to be convinced to take what wasn't hers, Tamara wiggled under the blankets and fell asleep with her cheek pressed to the cool side of her pillow.
During the early morning hours Tamara jolted awake, sitting straight up before jumping to her feet. Her body was tensed for a fight, eyes straining to find the source of her anxiety, and ears straining to listen to the distant sound that had woken her. The sound of small wings fluttered and batting against a hard surface again and again.
“It's a moth,” Tamara said out loud, sitting down cross legged on her bed, “Or a June bug.”
Tamara startled awake several more times before her alarm clock sounded at five thirty. It was an hour drive to the school that was hosting the event, in the next town over and Tamara was supposed to meet Hayden for breakfast at seven before meeting up with the rest of the team at eight.
She splashed her face with cold water trying to chase away the morning fog and the half-waking dreams her mind refused to let go of. When she was done in the bathroom Tamara returned to her room and checked her window for the corpse of the bug or moth that had been trapped the night before. The window pane was empty, both inside and out.
“Must have gotten away,” Tamara said, turning towards her closet.
After stepping into her favorite long denim skirt and a red sweater she examined her reflection in the mirror hanging on the back of her bedroom door. Her eyes were blood shot and looked like she needed toothpicks to hold her eyelids up. She stepped closer to the mirror to apply her foundation. An inch below her eyes her reflection was blurred by two tiny sets of hand prints.
“What the?” Tamara said and took a step back.
She blinked a few times and pinched her arm.
“Ouch!” she cried and looked again. The hand prints were still there. What could have such tiny hands? The prints were even too small to belong to Tina and Tally, her six year old sisters.
Tamara decided not to wear makeup to the tournament and went downstairs.
“Mom! Wake up! We have to leave in fifteen minutes!” she shouted and banged on her parents' bedroom door.
“Shut up, Tamara!” her mom called back, “Don't you dare wake up Tina and Tally! I plan on taking my ass back to bed once I drop you off. I'm going to a sale in St. Louis later today. Do you think you could get a ride back with someone from the club?”
“Maybe. I don't know. Why didn't you tell me yesterday so I could try to make plans?” Tamara slammed the empty orange juice container into the trash can.
“Because I didn't find out about it after you went to bed last night!”
“Whatever. What happened to all the orange juice and milk?”
“There should be a full gallon of milk in there, open your eyes and I just opened a new container of oj yesterday morning.”
“Well, they're gone now! Tamara said, tossing the empty milk jug into the trash too.
“What the?”
“Never mind, Mom. Really, it's okay. We'll figure it out later,” Tamara said, closing the refrigerator, “We need to leave soon. I don't want to be late.”
“Mrs. Kelly said you didn't have to be there until eight to register?”
“Yeah, but remember I'm meeting Hayden for breakfast.”
“And why couldn't this Hayden kid pick you up this morning?”
“I dunno, because I didn't ask him?” Tamara shrugged.
“Then why don't you call him and find out?”
“Fine!” Tamara dug into the bottom of her purse and retrieved her cellphone. Fortunately, she had saved his number to her contacts when he called her. It rang twice and went to voice mail. “He's not answering.”
“Sounds about right,” Mrs. Page, said stomping off into the bathroom.
Tamara's phone vibrated her palm.
“Hey,” Hayden's voice came from the other end of the line, “Either you're there really early or my clock's wrong.” His voice sounded thick with sleep and Tamara imagined him with bed head and holding a cup of coffee with his free hand. The image made her blush and shake her head.