Sweet Nothing(18)

“Sounds about right.”

“Oh. Um…” The barista wrinkles her nose at me. “Your card’s been declined.”

“What? That’s not possible. Try it again.”

She does. “Sorry.”

Gwen’s hand dips into her canvas cross-body bag. “Here. I got it.”

“NO,” I say, too loudly. A teenaged couple at the closest table turns to stare. “You don’t understand. Please. Just—try it again.” I can feel my body growing hot with shame. This has never happened before. And shouldn’t be happening now.

“Seriously. I’ve got it.” Gwen slides a wilted twenty across the counter. In exchange, the barista nudges my debit card back with the edge of her pen. Like it’s infected.

“Gwen—”

“You can get me next time.” Gwen shoots me a quizzical look. “You okay? I mean, it’s no big deal. This kind of thing happens to me all the time.”

“It doesn’t happen to me,” I snap, instantly regretting my tone. “Sorry. It’s just that...” I try to swallow. What am I going to tell her? That I’ve never, not once, overdrawn any of the bank accounts I’ve had since birth? That it’s taken me less than 48 hours in Miami to prove that I’m incapable of living on my own? Gwen’s lips are moving, but I don’t hear sound. I have to get out of here. Now.

“Excuse me,” I whisper. I leave my coffee on the counter; stumble outside into the accusing sunlight. I escape into the alley and reach for my cell phone. My sweaty fingertips slip against the screen as I dial. Aria answers on the first ring.

“Where have you been? I’ve been trying to get you all day.” She sounds angry and relieved at the same time.

“I know, I’m sorry. I’ve been teaching,” I explain. “Aria, you’ll never believe what just happened. I overdrew my account.”

Silence. Then, “Is that code for something, or—”

“No. No. I opened a checking account with some of my own money and I don’t know what happened! It’s just… gone, and I have a little cash, but we don’t get paid for two weeks!”

“Elle, why don’t you just ask Mom?” she says softly.

“No.”

“Even just this once?”

“Absolutely not. I don’t want their money. I can do this on my own.” My family’s money has come at too high a price. And there’s no way I’m begging my mother for help. Not after the things she’s said. She’d only hold it over me; use it to try to control me. I’d rather spend the rest of my cash on ramen noodles.

Gwen peeks into the alley and mouths Are you okay? I nod and lift my cell. She gives me a thumbs-up and heads back into the coffee shop.

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” Aria is saying. “I overheard Mom on the phone with the lawyers today. Something about bankruptcy court.” Her voice is a whimper. “She says she’ll handle it but I know she’s scared. Elle, what are we gonna do?”

Overhead, the sun beats down. The crumbling brick walls seem to close in. I can’t fix this. I have a way to earn a living, but what about Aria? And as much as I hate her right now, what about my mother? Neither one of them has ever had to do anything for herself.

I feel a searing flash of anger toward my father. Hot tears weigh heavy on my lower lashes.

“I don’t know. But I’ll try to figure something out, okay?”

“I’m scared.”

“I know. But it’s gonna be okay. I promise.” Another lie.

“She’s coming.” Aria’s voice drops to a whisper. “I’ve gotta go.”

The line goes dead.

I lean against the brick, trying to catch my breath. Sweat slips down my back; my heart pounds accusingly in my chest. What the hell is happening to me? It’s like I’ve been unraveling slowly ever since that afternoon six month ago, when my father and I played our last game of checkers.

It was a habit of ours, a way for us to reconnect during those rare moments when he wasn’t working and I wasn’t in school. But this time was different. It was a Tuesday, in the middle of the afternoon. Dad should have been at work. Instead, he’d been sitting in the library, staring at the checkerboard when I’d gotten home. It was strange, seeing him that way. He looked sick. Shaky. So when he asked me to play, I did.



—King me. I’d slid my piece to the edge of the board, searching his face for clues. He hadn’t said much, but something was wrong.

—You’re getting too smart for your old man, you know that? He rubbed his beard, stubbly and white where he used to be clean-shaven. Gives me some hope you’ll be alright. Aria, though… promise me you’ll always look out for her, okay?