I look over at Marcus. It’s his turn to blush. He combs his fingers through his hair. I wonder if Tally would tell him about
his
nervous habit. I want to believe that this Marcus, the one that’s maybe flirting with me, is the real one. That the other one is just the school Marcus. But I’m me no matter where I am. I have enough half people in my life right now, I don’t need any more.
“I guess I should head home,” I say. Sam chuffs again and starts to head back down the hill toward the beach. Then he runs back toward us. He pushes his muzzle into my hands again, then turns and heads back down the hill.
“I think he wants us to follow him,” Marcus says. “Can you walk for a few minutes?” Sam chuffs again, making both of us laugh.
“It’s hard to say no to that.” We start down the hill, walking close enough that I can feel the heat coming off Marcus’s arm. I notice that the moon has climbed halfway up the sky. It’s smaller now, regular moon size, and it makes me a little sad to think it moved so far away while I wasn’t paying attention.
“See that ring around the moon?” Marcus says, surprising me that he, too, is looking at the moon. “That means there’s a storm on the way. I learned all kinds of astronomy stuff as a kid,” he explains, almost apologetically.
“I used to have those glow-in-the-dark stars and planets stuck to my ceiling at home,” I say.
“Me, too,” Marcus says, his voice happy. We start walking away from the lights glowing in Gram’s house. I wonder if Mom and Gram are worried. Then I decide I don’t care. If they aren’t going to tell me things, I won’t bother either.
“I used to live here,” Marcus says when we draw even with his darkened house. Sam is already sitting on the bottom step leading to the porch, making me think he’s probably been here with Marcus before. I look over at the Marcus, at the way wind is blowing his hair away from his forehead. “But then you probably already know that,” he says.
I nod, making him laugh softly. “Small town.”
He walks over to the steps leading up to the porch. “Here,” he says, taking my hand. “Watch the third step. It’s rotted through.” We sit on the top step, watching the water. Sam hops over the broken step and sits in front of me, his tail making soft brushing sounds against the wood. He puts his head in my lap, leaning his weight against me. The wind whips through the dunes, pushing at us. Despite Sam’s warmth on my lap, I shiver. “Cold?” Marcus asks. I shrug, but end up shivering again. “I can walk you home,” he says. I shake my head. No amount of weather is going to move me from this step. Marcus slides closer until I can feel his leg against mine. He puts his hand behind me on the steps and leans toward me, so he almost, but not quite, has his arm around me. “Better?” he asks. I can feel his warm breath on the side of my neck. I just nod, feeling my face flush. We sit like that for so long that Sam starts snoring softly against my leg.
“Did you know that there are more than ten billion stars in the Milky Way alone?” Sam shifts against my leg and sighs deeply. “But that even on a really good night, with a new moon and no clouds, you can only see a couple thousand of them?” He leans toward me again, but this time it’s to lift his hand toward the sky. “There’s the Pleiades, and Ursa Major and Ursa Minor.” He goes on to list some of the other constellations hovering over us.
“It’s beautiful out here,” I say. “One time my family spent a week on a lake in Maine. My dad took me out in the canoe one night. It was really cold. I didn’t want to go at first, but once we got out on the water, it was amazing.” I pause, suddenly shy, but I can feel Marcus beside me, listening. “The whole sky was filled—thousands of stars. We could even see the cleft in the Milky Way,” I say.
“Not many people get to see that,” he says. He chuckles softly. “Not many people even know what that is.” Then he’s quiet again, thinking. “Listen,” Marcus says finally. And I do, but before he can say anything more, Sam lets out a snort that makes us both laugh. Marcus turns toward me, then looks back out over the water. “At the end of Hog Days . . .” He pauses again, making me smile. “I know, it’s lame. I guess really lame, considering where you moved from.” He’s quiet again.
“The City wasn’t that great,” I say, and I mean it.
“Well then,” Marcus says, and he leans forward a bit so that I can only see the side of his face. “There’s this dance. . . .” He pauses for a moment and I hold my breath. “I wonder if you might like to go.”
“I’d like that,” I say. A tiny part of me wonders why he’s not asking Charity, but I’m not about to ask
him
that.
He smiles at me—a real smile. “I’ll walk you home,” he says, standing up and reaching down for my hand. His bracelet slides down his wrist and rests against my fingers. We both hop over the rotten step onto the sand. I loosen my fingers on his, just in case he wants to let go of my hand, but he doesn’t. We walk toward Gram’s, Sam leading the way.
“How do you know where I live?” I ask, even though I already know what he’s going to say.
“Small town,” he says, squeezing my hand. He walks with me most of the way up the trail to Gram’s porch.
“Thanks,” I say.
“For what?” he asks.
I shrug a little. “Walking me home.” Even though what I want to say is
asking me to the dance, holding my hand, making my night.
It’s only then that I hear her. My mother is standing on the porch, a blanket wrapped around herself.
“Penny,” my mother says, “you should come in now.” The strain in her voice makes her words clipped.
Marcus takes a step back and I put my hand on his arm. I don’t want him to feel guilty about anything.
“Coming.” I give Marcus an apologetic smile and say, “See you soon, okay?” before I turn to walk up toward the porch. I know the faster I get inside, the less likely it is that my mother will ruin things completely.
chapter fifteen
I sit on the end of the sofa and pull my knees up into my chest. I was hoping Gram would be here. Maybe to be on my side or maybe just to soften things a little. As if reading my mind, my mother says simply, “She’s sleeping.” She sits in the straight-back chair near the fireplace, the one Oscar always sleeps in. Oscar threads through her legs, wanting his spot back, then gives up and joins me on the couch.
“I stopped by the bakery tonight after the chamber of commerce meeting.” I stare at my feet, noticing that the ankle of one of my socks is gray and speckled. Coffee grounds. “I thought you might like a ride.”
“Really,” I say, and it comes out nasty, but I don’t care.
She pauses for a moment. “I was worried when I couldn’t find you.”
I just shake my head and look past her.
“Penny . . .” She sighs.
I keep looking past her, as if I’m looking out the window, but it’s so dark all I can see is my mother’s reflection.
“I know this is hard for you.”
“
What
exactly is hard for me?” I ask. My voice is sharp and too loud.
She sighs again. “Starting a new school . . . making new friends . . .”
Say it!
I think. Just tell me what I already know. I think about asking her, but I want her to say the words, not just nod in agreement.
Finally she says, “Penny, your father and I are separating.”
“What does that mean?” I ask, feeling even more anger rise in me. “Living three hundred miles away from each other already seems pretty separated to me.”
She nods and looks at her hands. “Right. But now it’s more . . . official.” She takes a breath and I wait for more, but she’s quiet, maybe waiting for me.
“What now?” I ask.
“I don’t know, Penny,” she says flatly.
I grab a pillow from the couch and hug it when what I really want to do is punch it. The fact that she doesn’t know
what now
is worse than her announcement that they’re separating. Without a plan it’s pretty obvious. Even though she hasn’t used the
D
word yet, unless somebody does something, that’s what’s next.
When I came inside I thought I was in for a lecture about letting people know where I am or the dangers of being with strange boys in the dark. But instead I get this. We sit for several minutes. I put down the pillow and pet Oscar, feeling him purr.
“Penny—”
I hold up my hand. “If you’re going to tell me that you and Dad both love me very much, just don’t.”
She looks at me for long enough to let me know that was exactly what she was going to say. Now she doesn’t know how to go on. Minutes of silence click by on the clock over the mantel.
When she finally does speak again, it’s random and weird. “When did you do your hair?”
“A couple of days ago.” I reach up and tuck my hair behind my ear again. Tally helped me put highlights in it, so now instead of just plain brown, it looks almost red in the light. I think red was a good choice, better than the green stripes Tally suggested.
“You don’t like it,” I say, judging by her frown.
“I don’t like that it took me a couple of days to see it.”
The sadness in her voice takes some of my anger away. There’s more I want to talk about, but I don’t because she looks too tired and stressed right now.
She keeps starting to say something, but each time she gives up.
I wonder if this awkwardness drove Dad as crazy as it drives me.
I immediately shut down the thought, feeling guilty.
When she finally does speak again, it’s just, “Guess I’ll head up.” She folds her blanket over the back of the chair and walks toward the stairs. “Penny . . .”
She waits for me to look at her, but I don’t.
“Don’t stay up too late,” she says finally.
“I won’t,” I say. But I’m lying. I know I’ll be up most of the night. Sleep seems to be another one of those things I forgot to pack when we moved here.
I’m working the front at the bakery again. It’s become my after-school thing. Afternoons are usually pretty slow, so I can get some of my homework done. And boxing up cupcakes and cleaning the glass cases help keep my mind off last night’s conversation with my mother.
In between customers, I’m trying to come up with a float design for the parade. I’m the last person who should be working on this. This year’s theme is The Way Life Should Be. Right now my life is anything but the way it should be. All I can come up with are suggestions for changing things. I crumple up another piece of paper and lob it toward the trash can.
My mother has been on the phone for most of the afternoon, which is fine with me, because it means we can’t have another big talk. I don’t know who she’s talking to now, but she’s obviously not happy with whoever it is. Her voice keeps rising. So much that soon she’s going to start hitting an octave only dogs can hear.
Just thinking about dogs makes me think of Sam, and thinking of Sam makes me think of Marcus, and thinking of Marcus makes my heart beat too fast. Half of me is sure he likes me, but only half. Because again today he sat with Charity at lunch. And when he’s with her, he won’t even look at me. I push my pencil too hard and snap off the point.
I know I’m supposed to be all sophisticated. The big-city girl. But the truth is, Marcus is the first guy I’ve ever like-liked. Unless you count Tucker in seventh grade, and I don’t. Well, I did until he shaved off all his hair, started wearing combat boots, and talked about Warcraft
all the time.
I keep telling my heart that it shouldn’t get all crazy over Marcus, because maybe he’s just playing me. Maybe he’s even part of Charity’s big plan to get back at me. Unfortunately, my heart’s not listening very well.
I give up on the float and try to come up with a design for the cupcakes that some woman ordered for her daughter’s wedding.
Do something creative!!!
is all that is written below the order details. The many exclamation points tell me it was Gram who took the order. My mom is more of a period woman. I try to think of something new, but it’s hard to get all that creative with shades of cream and white.
I lean against the counter and watch the people walking by. Suddenly Tally appears in the front window, waving frantically. I push away from the counter and walk outside.
“What?” I ask, but before I can get out another word, Tally starts talking breathlessly.
“I’m entering—” she says. She’s holding a piece of paper, but I can’t read it.
Blake runs toward us, his hair flopping with each step. “You have to hurry!” he says. “The form has to be in by five o’clock.”
All three of us look at the big clock mounted on the bank building. Five minutes.
“I’ll call you,” Tally says. Before I can say anything, she’s gone.
“What was all that about?” I pull open the door of the bakery to let two women inside.
“Tally is running for Hog Queen,” he says.
“What?!”
He shrugs and looks up the street toward where we can just see Tally disappearing into the town hall.
“What possessed her to do that?”
Blake looks as clueless as I feel. “I hope it wasn’t anything I said,” he says, smiling.
One of the women I just let in peeks around the door and asks me, “Do you work here?” I nod. “I need to order some cupcakes for a baby shower.”
“Gotta go,” I say to Blake. “I can’t wait to hear her explanation for this one.”
At least baby shower cupcakes are easy to do when your brain’s on overload. I spend the next couple of hours making three dozen cupcakes covered in tiny blue and pink dots, each capped off with an icing bassinet. As I work, the dots seem to spin on the cupcakes, just like all the thoughts in my head. I stop and blink my eyes, trying to focus. It works for the dots, but not so much for everything in my brain.
chapter sixteen
I was hoping Tally would call immediately and fill me in about her decision. After dinner, I finally give up waiting for the phone to ring and walk down to her house.