Story of a Girl (19 page)

Authors: Sara Zarr

Tags: #Young Adult, #Contemporary, #Romance

“How do you think? Have you seen Soon-Yi’s teeth? Here.” Reyna passed Lucy half the turkey wrap they were sharing.

“Speaking of teeth,” Lucy said, “I have an appointment with your dad next Saturday. I’ll come over after.” Dr. Bauman’s office was in the lower level of Reyna’s house, which added yet another complication to the divorce.

“You’re still seeing him?” Reyna made a face and pushed her half of the wrap away.

“Only a few more times. Then I’m officially finished with the retainer.”

Then Lucy told her about Temnikova. She made it into a story, because if she thought too hard about the idea of death, as in not being alive, as in being
done
, she might lose it. So she lingered on the CPR details Reyna would appreciate. “Mouth. To. Mouth.”

Reyna shuddered. “Ew. I can’t believe you came to school today. That seems like a totally believable reason for skipping.”

“Because staying home is so much fun?”

“Yeah, maybe not. You guys need to move out of your grandfather’s house.”

“Never going to happen,” Lucy said. “And anyway, it’s half my mom’s, too.” She finished her food and ran her tongue over her teeth, checking for lettuce. She pictured the back of her mother’s head in the car that morning. Blond chignon. No stray hairs allowed. Competent and in charge; someone who would have executed CPR perfectly. Temnikova wouldn’t have dared die. “I think my mom blames me for not being able to resurrect Temnikova.”

“Your mom has issues.”

“Understatement,” Lucy said. They’d never been the “best friends” kind of mother and daughter, but the last year, especially, had been… tense.

“Well, it’s better than living with a cheater and embezzler.”

“At least your dad smiles more than once a week.”

“He’s an orthodontist.” Reyna squashed what was left of her lunch into a ball. “That’s not a smile. That’s advertising.”

After school Lucy fast-walked back to CC’s and got coffee for herself and a piece of chocolate-chip pumpkin bread for Mr. Charles. She wanted to talk to him one more time, to be double sure he wasn’t mad. In the CC’s bathroom, she redid her hair clip and tried to see herself through Mr. Charles’s eyes. He liked her. She knew he did. But how did he
see
her? Older than sixteen, the way the EMT had? The way practically everyone in the music world had? Which… not that it mattered. As long as he didn’t lump her in with all the other students.

She wrinkled her nose at her reflection, and against the overpowering lemonesque smell of the bathroom’s plug-in air freshener.

So what.

Crushing on a teacher. Sort of pathetic.

When she returned to his room, he wasn’t even there. The lights were out. She tried the door; it was still unlocked. What an eerie, dead thing an empty classroom was. Lucy quickly found a Post-it on Mr. Charles’s desk and jotted: