Truth or Dare (11 page)

WHEN I CAME HOME FROM the diner, Nate was sitting in the kitchen eating Val's brownies drowned in hot fudge.

“Want some?” he asked.

I shook my head.

He made a noise through his nose. “Don't tell me you're on a diet.”

“Of course not.”

“Good. It's so stupid when skinny girls diet. So how are your friends?”

“My
friends?
Why are you even asking?”

“How's Jules?” He grinned. His teeth were smeared with chocolate.

I narrowed my eyes at my brother. “She's fine. And even if she wasn't, it's none of your business, Fungus Face.”

“Whatever. Oh yeah, speaking of fungus. Guess who's coming this weekend. Aunt Shelby.”

I froze. “She is? How do you know?”

“She called Dad, and he called me. She would have called
you
if you had a phone.”

When I didn't respond, Nate said, “So what happened between you two, anyway? Did you, like, fight with her this summer?”

“Why? What makes you ask that?”

“I dunno. A weird vibe you've been giving off since you got back from Maine.”

“I'm not giving off any
weird vibes
.”

“If you say so, Fungus Breath.” He licked some fudge off his fingers. “But if you
did
fight with her, I wouldn't blame you. To be honest, I couldn't believe you lasted there as long as you did.”

Neither could I, the more I thought about it. I went upstairs and threw my backpack on my bed. Why was Aunt Shelby showing up
now
? Abi said she'd ask her mom if we could have a sleepover Saturday night, but if Aunt
Shelby was here for the weekend, Dad would probably say I couldn't go. Plus, there was the whole awkwardness of seeing my aunt again. Dad had instructed me to write her a thank-you note for the summer, and I knew it was the polite thing to do, but every time I sat down to write it, my brain clogged like a hairy sink.
Dear Aunt Shelby, I really appreciated how you spied on me. Thanks for humiliating me by inviting Tanner. I'm so grateful for the bras, which I've buried somewhere in my closet.

The truth was, I still hadn't forgiven Aunt Shelby. I didn't want her to visit. I had nothing to say to her.

Val was right: My aunt
was
so different from my mom.

And that's who I missed. Who I really
wanted
to see.

I reached under my bed for a bin. I didn't even care which one—seashells, sea glass, marbles, dice, charms, erasers, buttons, pebbles. Any of my collections would soothe me for a few minutes as I sifted through the pieces, held them up to the light, maybe even arranged them in a different way as I put them back in the bin.

This time I picked buttons. And as I sorted them, I thought, Wouldn't it be wonderful if all the best memories—of Mom, for example—were a collection? And you could reach under your bed and hold them in your hands whenever you wanted? Whenever you needed them?

And when you held them up to the light, they wouldn't disappear?

♥  ♥  ♥

That night I couldn't sleep. My brain just wouldn't turn off: I worried about Aunt Shelby showing up and doing something that made me even madder. Or meeting my friends and saying something disastrous (
Lia told you she kissed Tanner? Not according to my spy!)
I worried about my friends hanging out without me. I also worried about Marley—why had she left the diner so weirdly yesterday? Not even saying anything after I'd talked about the Accident—was she mad at me for some reason? I couldn't understand what I'd done to
her.
And if everyone was hanging out at Abi's this weekend, would Marley go there without me? That didn't seem like the best idea, but I couldn't exactly advise her not to go on her own.

The next morning, by the time I got to homeroom, Marley was already there. She was wearing a blue Field Museum Chicago sweatshirt that was so big it must have been meant for a unisex giant, and she was drawing in her sketchpad. She didn't notice me—or anyway, that's what she pretended.

I tapped her shoulder. “Hey, Marley.”

She just kept drawing. It looked like a knotty tree with swirly branches that went on forever. A fantasy tree.

“I love your tree,” I said. “You're such a good artist.”

“Thanks.”

She didn't look up. So I just took the seat next to her.

“Hi, Lia,” Ruby Lewis said, as she flopped into the seat in front of me.

“Hi,” I replied. Ruby was nice enough, but she was the opposite of me in terms of development, and it was weird how she never wore a bra. In fact, a bunch of boys in our class called her Booby Ruby and other names that were even worse. Didn't she hear them? Didn't she care?

Maybe she could borrow one of Marley's sweatshirts,
I thought. Because Marley had a million of them, one for everywhere she'd gone in Chicago, it seemed.

I turned to my right, where Marley was sitting. But she wasn't there.

When I wasn't paying attention again, she'd slipped away.

♥  ♥  ♥

At lunch Marley didn't sit at our table. And as soon as Mak sat down, she told Abi that she'd “just remembered” about a “swim team thing” she had to go to that weekend, which meant she couldn't do the sleepover. That was when I mentioned
that Aunt Shelby was supposed to visit on Saturday, so probably I couldn't come, either.

Abi's eyes filled with angry tears. “Fine,” she snapped. “Then it'll just be Jules and me!”

What about Marley?
I almost asked. But for Marley's sake, I decided not to.

We didn't talk very much that day; we were all a bit grumpy, I guess, and after school Marley was staying late for tutoring, while Mak had band rehearsal. At dismissal I saw Val drive by to pick up Abi and Jules. They didn't tell me where they were going, and I didn't ask.

I was just about to start walking home by myself when Val's car pulled up.

She rolled down the window and smiled at me. I could hear a twangy, ballady song on the radio and feel the cold gush of air-conditioning.

“Want a lift home?” Val asked sweetly.

I should have said no. If Abi had wanted me in her car, she would have invited me herself. I knew she was mad about me bailing on the sleepover—I was sure she'd taken it as an attack on her feelings. And frankly, by now I was getting pretty sick of Abi's feelings, the way they shoved everybody else out of the room.

But there was something so inviting about getting into
a mom-mobile after a weird day at school. Val was always so comforting. I was tired and sweaty. And I was about to have a crap weekend with my aunt, which made me feel sorry for myself.

So I got in.

Jules smiled at me, but Abi barely even looked in my direction. She was just going on and on to Val about her Spanish test, how unfair it was, focusing on a chapter the teacher hadn't even covered yet. Then she started telling her mom about Natalie Palmeiro, who got sent to the assistant principal's office for cheating off Graydon's math test and was crying so hard she had to stay with Mrs. Garcia, the school nurse, for the rest of the day. The whole time Abi was describing all this, Jules was nodding and making little agreement sounds and Val was asking questions like, “Did anyone say anything?” and “Then what happened?”

I asked myself,
If Mom were around, would I tell her the same meaningless gossip? And when we were in private, would I talk about my friends, and the Truth or Dare game, and maybe Aunt Shelby, and ask her questions about my Lack of Development?

Would she answer like Val, if I did?

Or tell me something I don't already know?

“Here you are, Lia, safe and sound,” Val announced in a cheery voice as she pulled into my driveway. A look
crossed her face; I guessed she thought she probably shouldn't have said “safe and sound,” even as a joke.

“Thanks for the ride,” I called, waving at my friends as I got out.

“See you Monday,” Abi said. She didn't smile or wave back. “Have fun with your
aunt.
”

The way she said it, it was like “your so-called aunt.” Like she thought I was using Aunt Shelby as a made-up excuse. Or no: as a lie.

♥  ♥  ♥

By the time I got up for breakfast on Saturday morning, Aunt Shelby was already sitting in the kitchen with Dad. Right away she jumped up to hug me. “Niecelet!” she cried.

I watched Dad's face over her shoulder as we hugged. He looked tense and uncomfortable, I thought, as he chewed his English muffin. Maybe Aunt Shelby had been criticizing his job again.

“So how are things?” Aunt Shelby asked as she studied my pajamas. “Any fascinating new developments?”

Seriously? Had she actually just used that word—DEVELOPMENTS?

“Nope,” I muttered. I crossed my arms over my chest. “How are the cats?”

“Oh, they're fine, except now Escobar needs dental surgery. Can you believe that? The vet says it'll cost a fortune.”

Dad harrumphed. “Well, talk to me if any of them need reading glasses.” He poured some sugar into his coffee. “Lee-lee, your aunt was thinking of taking you shopping today.”

“Oh, you don't have to,” I told her quickly.

She grinned. “Sure I do! That's what aunts are for! Now you go get your breakfast and do your homework or whatever, while I finish up here with your dad.”

I glanced at Dad again, but he just drank his coffee, refusing to give away hints about what needed “finishing up” between them. So I grabbed a bowl of cereal, brought it upstairs to my room, and read Book Three of HiberNation until it was time to get dressed.

AN HOUR LATER AUNT SHELBY and I were strolling through Maplebrook Mall, eating banana walnut froyo (her) and a double scoop of chocolate peanut butter ice cream (me). Dessert before lunch—it was kind of crazy, but I wasn't about to argue when Aunt Shelby offered to buy me a cone. I'd even started thinking that maybe this mall trip wouldn't be too horrific, when she suddenly said, “So, Lia. I see you're not wearing any of the bras we bought in Maine, including the new ones I sent home with you.”

I froze. It was that obvious?

“You're dripping, buttercup.” She pointed to my ice cream cone. “Why not? They didn't fit?”

“It wasn't a question of them fitting.”

“No? What was it, then?”

Blerg. We were going to have this conversation; I didn't see any escape route.

I asked if we could sit. We found an empty bench in front of Candie's Candles, a store that smelled like fake cinnamon. When the fake-cinnamon-candle-smell mixed with the taste of my chocolate peanut butter ice cream, I suddenly felt mall-sick. I tossed my drippy cone in a nearby trash can.

“So?” Aunt Shelby said.

Part of me just wanted to get up and zoom out of the mall, but I also knew that if I didn't speak up, I'd never forgive myself. Because it wasn't as if I didn't think things, or feel things, about the way my aunt had acted this summer. Besides, she always said how she wanted “special time” for “girl talk.” Well, so we should finally have it, right?

I took a deep breath of cinnamon mall-air. “The problem is that I didn't want
any
bras in the first place. You
made
me buy them. Then you stuffed them into my bag, along with these other ones I didn't even choose. That had
padding.
Which, truthfully, I don't understand.”

“You don't understand what? How to wear them? I could show you—”

“No,” I said. “What I don't understand was why you'd give me something so
fake.
Especially after telling me there was nothing wrong with being a late bloomer, how Mom was one, and you—”

“It's true. We were.”

“So then if it's that just the way we
are,
why would you give me bras that say it's
not
okay? That I should basically
fake
having boobs?”

She blinked. “You mean the padding?”

I nodded.

“Oh boy. Oh boy. Lia, I'm so, so sorry.” My aunt grabbed my ice-cream-sticky hands. “That's
not
what I was thinking
at all
. You're beautiful; I'd never, ever suggest that you weren't! I only gave you those extra bras because I thought
you
cared.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Oh, a lot of reasons. How you wouldn't model any bras for Winnie and me. The way you never wore bathing suits to the beach. How you freaked when I asked you about it. How you snapped at me when I suggested suit shopping—”

I watched a mom drag her wriggling little kid into the
Gap. “Well, yeah. I did feel kind of self-conscious on the beach. I mean, compared to Tanner's girlfriend in her stupid bikini. And I definitely wish something was happening with my body by
now.
But I'd never
lie
about how I look.”