Rattled (19 page)
I still feel weird about taking the Kennedys' money. I never expected it, never wanted it, but they insisted. Mom put the money in an account, most of it pegged for university except for an extravagant family vacation we get to plan together, and five hundred dollars to each Jilly and myself to spend on anything we wanted. But not until we'd been subjected to a condensed version of Mom's punishment pyramid. Jilly was down to twenty-four dollars. My money was in an envelope on my desk, under a pile of school binders, still untouched.
Taking another look at Jilly's picture, I had to smile. She seemed to be more fascinated by the giant cheque than the actual money, jumping up and down like she was on a game show or something. I forwarded the photo to her email.
When I went back into the kitchen Jilly was standing by the stove spreading butter on bread. “I'm making grilled cheese. Want one?”
“For breakfast? No thanks.”
She shrugged. “Pass me a cheese slice, would ya?”
I took one from the fridge door and tossed it on the counter.
She held it up to the light, turning up her nose. “These are
lights,
I need two.”
I rolled my eyes and dug another one out of the package.
“That kind of defeats the purpose, Jilly,” Mom said, squirting soap into the sink.
“But Mom, they're
gross
. I don't know why you buy them!”
Mom didn't bother to comment.
“Tommy Cameron's having a party this Saturday, Lid,” Jilly said.
Jilly's boyfriend
this
week. “So?”
“Well, do you want to come?”
I looked at her like she was speaking Japanese. “What do you mean do I want to come?”
She sighed. “What do you mean, what do I mean? Do you want to come or not?”
I opened my mouth but didn't know how to answer. I'd never been in this situation before.
Jilly shot me a sly look. “Mitchell Murphy's going to be there and he told me he thinks you're kinda cute.”
Mitchell Murphy? He was in grade twelve andâ¦hot. “Can I, Mom?”
I waited for her to answer, but she didn't. Something had caught her attention outside.
“Looks like someone's rented the Henleys' again,” Mom said, leaning slightly towards the window. Jilly and I stopped what we were doing and locked eyes. After a second we tore over to join Mom.
“Please let them have boys,” Jilly whispered.
“Please let them
not
be psycho,” I whispered.
We stared at the black sedan with a small U-Haul in tow, and held our breath as the car doors swung open.
F
irstly, I would like to thank my family, Ross, Lexi, and William. You never had a doubt. You always believed.
To all my dear friends, old and new, thank you for listening, even when you didn't feel like it. Look close. You'll see glimpses of yourselves in these pages.
And lastly, my writing group. Daph, Jo, Jenn, Cyndy, Joanna, and Graham, saying thank you a million times would never be enough, so one will have to do. “Thank you.”
