Breathless (16 page)

She gave me a knowing glance then turned my Mom. “Hi. I’m Morgan.”

Mom gave her a warm smile and held out her hand, which Morgan shook. “It’s so nice to meet one of Edith’s friends.”

Morgan turned to Sir, who was at the front of the 4x4 scowling, and curtsied. I knew she had to feel the waves of heat radiating from his eyes.

Instead of shrinking back like I would have done, her smile widened. “Come on. You don’t want to keep Daddy waiting.”

Sir said nothing but fol owed as she flounced down the driveway.

That was the moment I realized why Morgan and I were friends. What she wore and how she dressed didn’t matter to me. What made Morgan special was the fact that she was free in a way I could never be. Alive. Every movement she made, every twirl of her skirt and twitch of her lips radiated with energy. I only wanted to stand next to her and soak some of her color into my grey interior.

“Come on. Come on.” She waved impatiently. If I didn’t know better, I would have sworn she was getting a kick out of ordering my father around. I know I was. She was fearless. Laughing at the threat while I al owed it to devour me whole.

Sir grunted, causing Mom to automatical y reach for her wedding ring and begin her nervous twisting, which wobbled the dessert dish in her arms.

“Carol,” Sir hissed. “Watch what you’re doing.”

Mom released her wedding band and laughed nervously. “Sorry. You’re right. I am so clumsy.”

He didn’t comment, only fol owed Morgan into the house.

Once inside, I felt like I’d walked into a museum. Oil paintings tal er than me in their carved wooden frames decorated every wal . Even the windows looked like works of art. Silk tassels pul ed back the embroidered tapestries.

“Welcome!” A woman appeared around a corner, the heels of her shoes clicking sharply on the granite tiles. She wore a pair of silk drawstring pants, a silk blouse, and a matching yel ow sweater draped over her shoulders. Her blond hair, cut in layers that framed her face, accented her plump—and I was wil ing to bet surgical y-enhanced—lips.

A sculpted man with black hair and skin the color of freshly til ed dirt fol owed her. “So, where’s the girl who saved my baby’s life?”

“This is her, Daddy.” Morgan motioned to me with a dip of her chin, snapping her heels together and lacing her fingers behind her back. The picture of an adoring, obedient daughter. She winked at me. Everything was a game to her. As if life was something to be enjoyed, not dealt with.

Sir puffed his chest and snapped his head into attention.

Morgan’s father laughed, a deep and pleasant sound that echoed off the marble archways. “At ease, soldier. You are a guest in my house.” He held his arms wide. “You are
all
guests. Especial y
you
, young lady.” His amber-colored eyes met mine. “I don’t know how I can ever thank you for what you’ve done. My daughter means the world to me.” He smiled at Morgan, who beamed back at him. “I’d invite you into the parlor for refreshments, but it appears the cook has finished early. Please al ow me to escort you to the dining hal .”

We fol owed Colonel Pratt and his wife down a long hal way until we reached a room with a table long enough to serve a smal army. Pictures depicting fights from the Civil War were mounted on cream-colored wal s. Mrs. Pratt took Mom’s dessert and disappeared into the kitchen. Colonel Pratt positioned himself at the head of the table and motioned for us to take a seat.

Moments later, Mrs. Pratt came out of the kitchen with a pitcher of iced tea. “Sorry it took me so long to get the sweet tea. It’s the strangest thing, but it appears our kitchen sink has sprung a leak.”

Morgan glanced at me from across the table, and I quickly dropped my eyes to my plate.

“That is strange,” my mom agreed. “We’ve had some plumbing issues ourselves this week. What’s real y weird is that it’s not consistent. One minute the faucets are dripping and the toilets are running, and the next, everything is fine.

“That
is
real y weird,” Morgan said. I could feel her eyes burning holes in my forehead, but stil I refused to look at her. “We’ve had plumbing issues at school, too. Don’t you think that’s weird, Edith?”

“Weird,” I said. As long as I kept my eyes on my plate, maybe no one would be able to see the fear in them. This only confirmed my suspicion that I was somehow the cause of al the faulty plumbing. Then I had another thought—it wasn’t until after my first encounter with the mermaids that the leaky faucets started.

The clinking of glass and ice pul ed me from my thoughts as Mrs. Pratt fil ed my glass with sweet tea. I smiled my thanks before taking a drink.

“So, Edith,” Mrs. Pratt said before sitting down, “why don’t you tel us how you and Morgan met? It isn’t often we are so lucky to be able to entertain Morgan’s friends.”

“Sure,” I answered, thankful to have the topic steered away from faulty plumbing. I set my tea on the table but held onto the glass to keep my fingers from trembling.

Sir leaned forward, as if this too, was a subject that interested him.

Mom, however, looked at her lap, inspecting the napkin’s lace trim with a smile. So happy, and yet so clueless. She real y thought we were here for a dinner party, but I knew exactly what was at stake.

My mouth went dry and I cleared my throat in hopes of removing the paste that seemed to have locked my tongue to the roof of my mouth.

“We met at a strip club,” Morgan chimed in. “Edith was tossing back shots of tequila while I was working the pole. Geez, Mom, we met at school.

What did you think?”

Morgan’s parents laughed. “Kids,” her dad said, rol ing his eyes. “You never know
what’s
going to come out of their mouths next.”

Sir and Mom only sat in stunned silence.

I attempted to grin and failed miserably.

“Wel , regardless.” Colonel Pratt smiled. “Janie is right when she says we rarely get to meet Morgan’s friends. I’m so very glad to meet you, Edith. And I’m glad your family was able to come tonight.”

He looked at Sir, who managed to pul the corners of his lips into an almost smile. He looked constipated. “We’re honored to be here, sir.”

“No, no.” Colonel Pratt wagged a finger at him. “We’re al friends at this table, right girls? Please cal me Cliff.”

Morgan rol ed her eyes. “Daaaad,” she moaned. “Can you please stop making such a big deal about it, already? Did you maybe think that I don’t invite friends over because I know you guys are going to embarrass me? You know, like you’re doing right now?”

Cliff laughed. “Oh, teenagers. You know what I’m talking about, don’t you, Michael?”

Sir stiffened under the use of his first name. I don’t remember anyone ever using it before besides Mom. “Right,” he answered with another tight-lipped smile. But then he shot me a glance—a warning—that had me sinking into my seat.

Morgan smiled at Sir. “You must be pretty proud of Edith for saving my life.”

If I could have reached under the massive table I would have kicked her. I knew how to deal with the man sitting to my left. Just play dead around the growling bear and he would eventual y leave. Under no circumstances should you poke the bear. Unfortunately, Morgan was oblivious to my psychic plea for her to shut up.

Sir shifted in his sit so he could lock eyes with her across the table. “I would love to hear more about that.”

“As would I!” Cliff smiled.

Janie and Mom, nodding, set down their drinks.

It was as if I were in two different places, half of me in an interrogation office while the other half was at a dinner party. I didn’t know who to look at or how to respond. I looked from Morgan’s parents to Sir. What was the correct answer? What was the question? The wal s shifted, pressing into me until there wasn’t enough air to breathe.

“I’l tel the story,” Morgan said. “After al , we know how modest Edith is. She wouldn’t want to brag.”

I gave her a weak smile.

Mom looked up from the napkin ring she’d been twirling around in her hand. “Oh, yes. Edith is very modest.”

Morgan leaned forward and splayed her hands across the table. “Wel , there I was, al alone in the bathroom, in between classes, with my throat closing up on me. It had started with a little wheezing. I thought I had time, but in a matter of seconds, I realized I was in big trouble. And by then, it was too late. I was total y screwed, al because I was careless enough to leave my inhaler in my car.”

“Morgan.” Her dad tsked. “You know better than to forget your inhaler. How many times do your mother and I have to remind you?”

She dropped her eyes to the table and stuck out her bottom lip. “I know, Daddy. I’m sorry.”

Cliff waved his hand in the air. “That’s al right, baby. It’s neither here nor there, now. I just worry about you. Go on with the story.”

“Okay, Daddy.” She looked up and addressed the table. “At this point I was col apsed on the bathroom floor.”

Janie gasped.

Morgan continued, “I thought I was done for. But then Edith appeared! She yanked me off the ground—never minding the fact that she had her own injured shoulder to deal with—and half-dragged me to my car, where she was able to get my inhaler. She saved me!”

“Wel done, Edith,” Clifford said.

Janie clapped her hands while beaming at me.

Sir, however, folded his arms and leaned back against his chair. “You say this occurred between classes?”

Morgan nodded.

And just like that we had fal en into Sir’s trap. Only Morgan didn’t realize it yet. I wanted to scream at her to stop talking but, with Sir’s eyes searching my face for the lie that was written there, I could only stare at my hands clasped in my lap.

“It happened right before last period.” A smug smile appeared on Morgan’s face. She thought she had him.

“But I found you two in the parking lot at the end of the day.”

There it was. Morgan paled slightly as panic flashed through her eyes. Next to me, Mom began her incessant ring twisting.

“So what you’re tel ing me,” Sir continued, “is that you two missed a whole period of class.”

Janie and Cliff seemed oblivious to the warning in Sir’s voice. They cocked their heads, waiting for their daughter’s explanation. I only hoped she had one.

Morgan crossed her arms. “It was a bad asthma attack. And I’m not a little girl, Mr. Smal . It took Edith awhile to drag me outside.”

Sir leaned forward, a cobra ready to strike. “What I find appal ing, is that no one—no faculty, students, or janitorial staff—witnessed what took place.”

I dared a glance at Morgan, who stared at me with a helpless expression.

Cliff frowned. “You know, Michael, you raise an excel ent point. I find it disturbing that my daughter had a medical emergency and it went undetected. First thing Monday morning, I’m going to contact the administration.”

Morgan’s eyes widened. “Daddy, don’t you think that’s going a little overboard? I’m fine. No harm, no foul, right?”

Cliff shook his head. “No, angel, I don’t think so. You could have died. The fact that another student had to come to your aid is unacceptable. The school board wil hear about this.”

Sir leaned back with a satisfied smile. “I think that is an excel ent idea. In fact, I’l place a few cal s of my own.” He said the last part while staring straight at me.

I had to take a quick swal ow of tea to stop the acid climbing my throat. We were sunk. And apparently, with Morgan pressed against the back of her chair like a deflated bal oon, she knew it too. Al it would take was a phone cal to the school for Cliff and Sir to discover that we had skipped every class that day. There would be no explaining that. Especial y after the asthma story Morgan had crafted.

I didn’t know what kind of trouble Morgan would be in, but a packed suitcase was definitely in my future.

Janie stood as a woman in uniform entered the room carrying a silver tray loaded with plates of steaming food. Attention diverted. Despite the mouth-watering smel s of poached chicken and garlic potatoes, I only picked and played with the food on my plate. It was definitely one of the nicest dinners I’ve ever had, and that too made it feel entirely too much like my last meal.

I’d been sitting on Morgan’s black bedspread for almost an hour, waiting for her to wear a tread in the carpet with her nonstop pacing.

“Your dad is a complete douche bag!” She threw her hands in the air. “Seriously. He needs a colonoscopy to get out whatever the hel is stuck up his ass.”

I didn’t say anything, only picked imaginary lint from her pil owcase. Ranting wouldn’t help. I had a bag packed for me and it was would be used very soon. No amount of name cal ing and shouting could change that.

Morgan groaned and leaned against a picture of a band I’d never heard of. In fact, I didn’t recognize a single name on the posters plastered against her wal , but they al had one thing in common: I wouldn’t want to meet any of them in a dark al ey. I liked my bands to sing about pain—not look like they inflicted it. Everything about them looked sharp, from their spiked jewelry to their pointed nails. Even their hair was cut at jagged angles.

“You’re not saying much, Smal s.”

I shrugged. “There’s no point. I’m as good as good as at military school.”

She frowned. “The man’s a dick, but would he real y send you away?”

I drew my knees to my chest and tucked them under my chin. “He already packed my bag.”

“Shit.” Morgan sat next to me and leaned her head on my shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, Smal s. I won’t let him send you away. I’l think of something.”

I shook my head. “Thanks, Morgan. It means a lot to me that you care, but my fate is sealed. Sir isn’t one to be persuaded, and he’s had his mind set on this for awhile. He’s just been waiting for a reason. Now he has one.”

“But what if I told my dad—”

I cut her off. “No. It won’t do any good.” Before she could argue, I stood. “Can we change the subject? I mean, isn’t this supposed to be a slumber party? Aren’t we supposed to be doing facials or having a pil ow fight?”