No Passengers Beyond This Point(5)
“I don’t think you’re stupid. I just think sometimes you believe in your own wishful thinking.”
“Mom, I totally get it. You’ve ruined my life.”
She pulls at the small hairs that are sticking out of her ponytail. “I know this is hard, India.”
“Why do we have to live in Fort Baker? We could get an apartment here. Did you ever think of that?”
“At Uncle Red’s we won’t have to pay rent. It will give me a chance to push the reset button.”
“I’ll help out more. I’ll get a job. You made this decision without even talking to us.”
“If I’d known six months ago what I know now, I would have done things differently. But I didn’t know and I wasn’t about to drag you kids into it . . .”
“I’m not a kid, Mom!”
“I know you’re not.” She massages her temple with her thumb. “And I’m asking you to take on grown-up responsibilities. Can you handle that?”
“You never think I can handle anything.”
“Oh, India.” She sighs a long, sputtering sigh. “Look, will you just get dressed and help Mouse get packed?”
When she’s finally gone, I find my cell and head straight for the bathroom. I lock the door, but the stupid lock falls off in my hand.
I flip open my cell. There are fifteen texts from Maddy. As soon as I turn my phone on, she calls me, which means she’s seriously mad.
“In, I’ve texted you a billion times. What’s wrong? It’s that rotten reception at your house, right?”
“Uh-huh,” I mutter.
“Why didn’t you go down the street to the McFaddens’ tree? The one you said was like magic.”
“I never said it was magic.”
“Whatever. Look, you’re mad, aren’t you? Has the Demon Child been making up stories about me again?”
“No.”
“It’s the party then, right? Ariana said you could come. I told you that. It’s only because she thinks Brendan is a hottie and he likes you that she didn’t invite you in the first place.”
“Maddy, I’m not mad. I just had stuff to do for my mom.” I try to make this sound light, like it’s no big deal.
The line goes quiet. So quiet I figure the call got dropped and I’m going to have to go out on the street, when Maddy says: “You are such a bad liar, In.”
“I’m not lying.”
She snorts. “For weeks we’ve been talking about Ariana’s party and how you didn’t get invited and now I get you invited and you treat me like dog waste.”
“Maddy, I didn’t treat you like dog waste, I’m sorry I didn’t text. It’s just . . . there’s something going on,” I whisper.
“Well, what is it?”
“I can’t talk about it right now.”
“I thought we were best friends. I mean, should I be calling Lizzie? Because she would so tell me everything.”
“India.” My mom bangs on the bathroom door. “Let’s get going!”
“Maddy, look, my mom’s gone nuts. I gotta go.”
“Oh great . . . she’s not going to call up my mother again, is she?”
“No. Nothing like that.”
Maddy sighs. “I don’t know what I’d do if I had your mom, and don’t even let me get started on the Demon Child. But we’re good, right? You’d tell me if we’re not.”
“Totally.”
I want to tell Maddy what’s happening, I really do, but she’d drop me for Lizzie in a hot second. Lizzie hangs around waiting for that too—hoping I get mono or something. Maddy is a good friend, she really is. She just can’t stand to be alone.
This isn’t permanent, anyway. I’m not going to live out in the middle of nowhere.
Never going to happen. Never.
CHAPTER 3
OUR EX-HOUSE
Everything is a jumble, all mixed up and upside down. We’re looking for suitcases, cramming stuff into bags to be sent later, boxes to be mailed, bins to go to storage, garbage bags to be thrown out. There is no time for anything and no way to begin to get everything packed.
How’s she going to move the rest of our stuff by herself?
“Mom, you can’t do this alone. Why don’t we fly tomorrow?”
“I already bought the tickets,” she tells me as I wedge one more plastic crate into our jam-packed little car and somehow manage to get the passenger’s-side door closed.
“I’ll be fine,” she mutters as she gets in the car and backs out of our parking place.
Not even the parking place will be ours anymore, I think as I watch her leave.
I was right all along . . . something bad was happening. Being right stinks.