Rattled (4 page)

“Come on.” I didn't want to give Mrs. Swicker a chance to change her mind.

We hurried across the street and downstairs to the rec room.

I picked up the paddles. “Do you know how to play?”

“No. We'll learn as we go,” Sam said.

“Okay,” I said. “How about we do a rotation?”

Sam and I started, hitting the ball back and forth to each other as I gave him some instructions and a few pointers.

“So…how long have you played the violin?” I asked. If trashy teenage TV dramas have taught me anything, it's that boys are impressed if you show interest in things
they're
interested in.

His face lit up. “For as long as I can remember. Someday I'd love to play with a real orchestra, maybe even write music.”

“Wow. My big goal is to get through all five seasons of
Lost
before the end of the summer.”

He laughed.

“Do you play anything, Megan?”

“She's a fantastic piano player,” Sam said proudly. He went on to explain how there had been a piano at one of the houses they'd rented, and Megan had taught herself to play.

“That's amazing. I think I must be tone deaf or something. No musical talent whatsoever,” I said as I rubbed the back of my head. I'd banged it on the corner of the table picking up the ball for the umpteenth time. Sam wasn't very good at Ping-Pong.

We switched partners, Sam and Megan played. I was ball girl. I was very busy.

After a while they got into a bit of a groove. As they volleyed back and forth, it gave me the chance to openly check Sam out. I wondered if he watched
Gossip Girl
—the way his bangs were super long in the front and they fell across his eyes, he really had a Chace Crawford thing going on. There was no doubt about it, he was going to be the cutest guy at school. I felt a little burst of joy inside knowing I would already have the inside track—I'd be the envy of every girl at the West.

“Later we should walk over to the school. You might want to check it out,” I suggested. “What grade are you guys going into anyway?”

“Meg ten, me twelve,” Sam said.

“So, Megan, we might be in some of the same classes. Sam, you could end up in some of Jilly's.” It made my throat hurt to finish the sentence.

That's when Sam broke the news. They were home-schooled.

I couldn't think of anything to say. I felt totally deflated.

Apparently home-schooling was the way to go because they moved so much. They moved so much because Mrs. Swicker was a photographer and she liked to change locations constantly.

I remained quiet for a long time, trying to get my head around this new development. It was a real bummer. “I wish you weren't. Home-schooled, that is.”

“Oh, it's not so bad,” Sam said cheerfully, serving and hitting Megan's shoulder with the ball.

“Really?” I sounded doubtful. “Don't you ever wish you could go to regular school?”

Sam frowned. “Never really thought about it. I kind of like that we only have lessons for maybe three hours a day.”

“I guess…” I still wasn't too happy about it all.

“Wanna switch?” Megan asked. “I'm really bad at this.”

My stomach growled. I suggested we go up to the kitchen and get a snack instead.

As I got down three glasses, I saw a head bounce by the window, then heard the door open.

“Morning, Tanner family!”

Crap!
“Hi, Vivian!” I called.

“Is Jilly around?” Vivian asked, bursting onto the scene.

“No. She won't be back until five.”

“Oh. I'm just dropping off this book she wanted to borrow.” She was looking past me, at Sam and Megan.

“You must have misunderstood her,” I said. “Jilly doesn't read.”

She smirked and wagged her finger at me. “I don't care
what
Jilly says about you, I think you're just
precious
.” She practically shoved me aside. “You must be the new neighbours.”

Vivian was Jilly's best friend. There was no way she didn't know Jilly babysat until five—this was an obvious fishing expedition. Vivian's eyes zeroed in on Sam. It was almost comical. I felt like throwing my body in front of him like a shield.

“Vivian Green, this is Sam and Megan Swicker,” I said, begrudgingly.

Vivian glanced briefly at Megan and smiled, then turned the full force of her powers on Sam. “En-chanté…” She held out her hand.

I sighed with relief when Sam gave her an odd look, reached out, and awkwardly shook her finger. “Uh…nice to meet you.”

“It's going to be so lovely to have some fresh faces in school this year,” she cooed. “I just live one street over, so if…”

“Home-schooled!” I shouted.

“Oh.” Her face fell.

“Okay then.” I put my hand on her shoulder and steered her towards the door. “I'll tell Jilly you stopped by.”

“She seemed nice,” Sam said, when I rejoined them in the kitchen.

“Well, she's not. It'd be in your best interest to avoid her at all costs.”

“She can't be
that
bad,” Sam said.

“Listen. Like six years ago or something, she was a runner up on
America's Funniest Home Videos
. She thinks she's a friggin' celebrity and she treats everyone like peasants. She's just the
worst
.”

“What'd she do on the video?”

“It was something about her lunatic cat destroying the Christmas tree. God, she was only in it for a nanosecond, but for some reason she thinks she's a star. Plus, I didn't think Canadians were even allowed to enter!” I added, slamming the fridge door.

Sam and Megan both laughed. They drank their juice but said no thanks to a snack.

I made myself a peanut butter and jelly fold-over, and we headed back for more ping-pong.

We hadn't been downstairs for more than two minutes when I heard the doorbell. I strained my ear. Mom or Dad must have answered.

“Sam. Megan. Your mom's here!” Mom called.

“Oh…We didn't get to finish,” I complained.

Following them up the stairs, I checked my watch. Almost noon. Mrs. Swicker had let them out of her sight for all of forty-five minutes.

Sam and Megan thanked me and said goodbye, so did Mrs. Swicker. I could tell it caused her great pain, but Mom and Dad were standing right there. I know she felt she had to.

I went into the kitchen to wash some grape jelly off my shirt.

Damn! I missed it
. The blue cake plate was on the counter.

Chapter 5

S
o I thought I'd be neighbourly, share my great idea. The van was in the driveway, I knew they were home. I ran a brush through my hair, dabbed on a little lip gloss, did that sideways thing in the mirror smoothing out my T-shirt and shorts, and headed across the street.

Standing on their front step, I listened to the doorbell echo through the house. I heard footsteps and then Mrs. Swicker opened the door. Her face fell when she realized it was me. I'm not making that up, she looked positively crestfallen and she didn't bother to hide it.

“Yes?” she sighed.

“Hi,” I said brightly. “Megan and Sam home?”

“No.”

Her answer caught me off guard. “No?”

She put her hand on her hip and leaned toward me. “I think I would know whether or not my kids were home.”

As I pulled back I thought I caught a whiff of something on her breath—alcohol? “Yeah, ummm, of course,” I stuttered. “Just tell them…” The door closed in my face. “That I was looking for them…” My voice trailed off.

I marched down their front steps shaking my head. I must have imagined the smell. It wasn't even ten o'clock. She definitely OD'd on her nasty pills, though. I couldn't imagine my mom treating any of my friends like that, even the ones she's not too crazy about. Why did Mrs. Swicker have it in for me? Dad says I'm so sweet I give him cavities.

Back home and still a little ticked, I threw two pieces of bread in the toaster and slammed down the lever. I stared out the kitchen window at their house, wishing I had x-ray vision so I could see what in the world was going on behind those walls.

“What the…?”

There was Megan, walking across her driveway, carrying some stuff to the van. Okay, was this some mass conspiracy? Up until now I'd thought it was just their bizzarro mother.

I ran out the front door. “Megan!” I shouted.

She looked up and waved. “Hey!”

I crossed the street to meet her. “I was just at your house. Your mom said you weren't home.” I stared at her intently, looking for telltale signs of deception.

“You were?” She looked genuinely surprised. “I heard the bell. Mom said it was some kid collecting bottles for a bottle drive.”

We both stood there, looking at each other, frowning in deep concentration.

“I can't imagine why she'd tell you that,” Megan continued, scrunching up her nose.

“Beats me,” I shrugged.

“Maybe she misunderstood. What did you say?”

“Not a lot. She pretty much slammed the door in my face.”

“Oh…sorry,” she said, apologetically.

“I mean, no offense, but I just don't get it. Does she always act that way with your friends, or just with me?”

Megan took her time answering. “Well, since we move so much, we don't get the chance to make a lot of friends.”

“Oh.” I sort of felt bad.

“She's just not what you'd call a people person, I guess. So, like, don't let it bother you.” She kept sneaking peeks over my shoulder towards her house, like she was watching for something or someone.

I couldn't help it. I turned my head to follow her line of vision. The curtain moved in the window.

“Oh, okay then,” I said slowly.

“So what did you want when you came over?”

I got the feeling she was trying to change the subject. “Right. I thought we could plan a day down at the waterfront. I could show you and Sam all the touristy things. You know, ‘all the things Halifax has to offer'?”

“Umm…maybe.” She slid her ring up and down her finger. “I don't know if Mom…”

I sighed heavily. “Let me guess, you don't think your mom will let you.”

“No, no, she might…” Megan said, shaking her head. “It's just like she has this thing about letting us do stuff with people she doesn't know, that's all, no big deal.”

“But she
knows
me,” I pointed out.

“Really, like I said, she's just not a people person.” Megan was beginning to look uncomfortable.

There was an awkward pause. I cleared my throat. “Okay, then. I should probably…”

“Yeah, I gotta get back inside.” She pulled the van door closed, and hurried up the driveway.

I stood and watched her. There was something weird about the whole thing.
Not a people person, that's the understatement
of the year. I think she's just a big control freak with a little bit of
crazy thrown in.

I stuck out my bottom lip. Megan didn't seem a bit excited over my great idea. If it were me, I'd be jumping at the chance to get away from Mrs. Swicker, even for a day.

Maybe Sam would be a little more receptive to my great idea. As soon as I saw him, I'd corner him and ask. It'd never actually been just him and me. I couldn't wait to wow him with my witty repartee.

The rest of the morning I spent basically staking out their house.
Now who's crazy?
So Mom wouldn't get suspicious as to why I was lurking around the kitchen, I mixed up a batch of chocolate chip cookies. I could see the Swickers' front and garage doors perfectly out our kitchen window. Pulling the last tray of cookies out of the oven, I finally detected movement. It was as I'd hoped—Sam. He was crushing up a pile of cardboard boxes in the driveway. I grabbed two cookies off the cooling rack, wrapped them in paper towel, and rushed out to the street.

“Sam! Hey!”

“Hey, what's up?” he asked, dumping the cardboard on the grass.

He had on a baby blue golf shirt. It was the exact colour of his eyes. He stood there waiting for me to speak. There was a fluttery feeling in my chest. I realized I'd forgotten what I wanted to ask him.

“Right, right,” I mumbled under my breath. “So…I was talking to Megan a while ago.” I tried to sound casual.

“Yeah, she told me.”

“She did? Did she tell you what we talked about?”

“Uh huh.”

“Did she tell you what your mom did? About me coming to the door?”