Odd Girl In (13 page)

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Authors: Jo Whittemore

BOOK: Odd Girl In
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And then someone said, “Chloe, this was an
awesome
idea!”

“So fun!” another girl agreed. “The best slumber party this year.”

All the other girls chorused their agreement and instantly Chloe's bad humor vanished. After we'd all dried off later, I expected her to confront me again, but she didn't say another word on the subject. And when Dad
came to pick me up, she simply thanked me for coming.

Part of me was relieved that she'd finally gotten my point, but another part of me wondered if the pool incident had given her a new reason to hate me.

Chapter 10

I
have to say, I'm impressed.” Dad tossed my
duffle bag in the backseat while I carried a party tin of cheese popcorn. “I didn't get a call in the middle of the night saying you'd put someone in the hospital or the trunk of a car.”

“That's because I'm a perfect angel,” I said with my most innocent expression.

Dad laughed and put the car in gear. “I would never believe
that
, but I'm glad everything turned out okay. Did you have fun?”

“Yep,” I said.

“Enough to go again?” he asked with a grin.

“Nope.” I smiled back. “How are Nick and Parker
doing? Did they have a good time without me?”

“Well, Nick spent the evening with a tutor and Parker spent it running the track.”

“In other words, no.” I made a face. “What are they doing now?”

“Parker is supposed to be helping Nick study,” said Dad. “Although I'm not sure how well that's going.”

“Nick?” I turned toward him. “You're joking.”

Dad shook his head. “He's been taking this Champs business pretty seriously.”

“Well, I'd hate to interrupt
that
,” I said. “I guess if they're busy I'll just relax in my room.”

“Sure,” said Dad. “You've earned it.”

I wondered if he'd feel the same if he knew what had really happened at Chloe's, but all I said was, “Thanks.”

Back at the house, I shouted a hello to my brothers, who were taking a break in the kitchen, and ran up to my room. Dad never liked us to lock our doors, but I figured I could get away with it for half an hour or so.

Pushing aside a pile of laundry in my closet, I pulled out the box of photos from the garage and carried it to my bed. I flipped through the first three albums that I'd already seen, but took my time once I got to the newer ones.

I was hoping I'd be able to understand Mom better if I could peek into her past, but the more I saw, the more confused
I became. There would be several pictures of her awkwardly posed with my brothers, face devoid of any emotion, and then there would be a picture of her clutching her pregnant belly and smiling, as if she was thrilled to be a mom.

I compared them to the albums I had from after I was born and it was the same pattern. I'd be sitting on the floor by Mom's desk while she worked, completely ignoring me, and later I'd be sitting on her lap while she pointed out pictures in one of her books.

There was a loud thud outside my bedroom door and I quickly fumbled to put the albums back in the box. A couple of photos fell out of their sleeves, and I scooped them up, hiding them behind my back as I crept to my door to listen. When I didn't hear anything else, I climbed back onto the bed and set to work replacing the fallen photos.

Except, behind one of them, someone had tucked in a note.

I pulled it out and recognized the same handwriting that I'd seen on so many birthday and Christmas checks—Mom's.

I stared at the note in disbelief. I re-read it. Then I flipped it over but there was no date on it. I read it one more time, but it was getting harder to focus on the words with the note shaking in my hand. Several thoughts struggled to be first in my mind.

Mom loved us … or she had at some point, anyway.

Mom had met with my brothers, but not me.

Dad had tried to cut off communication with Mom, even birthday checks.

But why?

The knob on my bedroom door jiggled and I leapt about a foot into the air.

“Alex?” Dad's muffled voice carried through the door. “Are you decent?”

“Uh, yeah!” I threw a blanket over the box and shoved the note in my back pocket. I wasn't quite ready to share it with anyone. “Just a sec.”

I took a few deep breaths and then opened the door. “Sorry. I just wanted a little private time.”

Dad nodded. “I'm heading out to the grocery store. Apparently, exercise is turning Parker into a bit of an eating machine.”

“He gets full after a carrot stick,” I said. “How much can he eat?”

Dad crossed his arms. “Well, the refrigerator's almost empty, and if metal was edible, I'm sure he would have swallowed
that
, too.”

I laughed. “Yeah, okay.”

“Just be on your guard,” said Dad. “And don't wear any food costumes.”

I pushed him and laughed again. He disappeared down the hall and I leaned against the door frame. Dad was usually so patient and good-humored. What could Mom have done to set him off? I returned to the box of photo albums and started poking behind all the photo sleeves, looking for more notes. Unfortunately, it seemed that this was the only one to have made its way into the box.

I heard more thumping outside my door, followed by an assortment of odd grunts. After shoving the box under my bed, I poked my head into the hallway.


What
are you guys doing?”

My brothers were sprawled out on the carpet of the second-story landing, Parker fighting to break free from Nick, who had him in a headlock.

“Give it here!” Nick shouted, reaching for something Parker had clutched in his fist.

“Never!” Parker twisted his hand out of reach and brought whatever he was holding to his mouth.

Nick looked up at me. “Alex! Stop him!”

I dropped down between the two of them and clawed at Parker's hand. “What is it? Parker, let … ugh!”

Whatever it was smushed between my fingers as I grabbed for it, and I recoiled in horror. My hand was coated in reddish-brown ooze.

“Nooo!” cried Parker.

“Please tell me this didn't come from someone's nose.” I wiped my fingers on Parker's shirt.

“It
was
a moldy strawberry he found in the back of the refrigerator,” said Nick, releasing Parker from his grip.

“What?!” I stared at my brother in disgust.

“I was going to eat
around
the mold.” Parker glanced hungrily down at his shirt where I'd wiped my hand.

“Don't even think about it,” said Nick.

“But I'm starving!” cried Parker.

“Dad'll be home soon with more groceries,” I said. “Why don't you go back to whatever you were doing before this?”

Nick snorted. “He wasn't doing anything. He was
supposed
to be helping me study for a test tomorrow since my tutor isn't working out.”

“You've only had one session,” I said. “How can you already know that?”

“I thought I'd get one of those cute, smart girls for my tutor, like how it always works on sitcoms,” said Nick.

“Yes. Because our lives are so laugh-a-minute,” said Parker, getting to his feet and heading for the bathroom.

“Anyway,” Nick said, “I wound up with this guy from Dad's college. All he did was babble about geometry, and all I did was count the hairs curling out of his nose.”

“So you did do
some
math,” I said with a smile.

“Well, I'm sorry,” said Parker from the bathroom doorway, “but I can't help you study on an empty stomach. All this exercise is making me hungry.” He uncapped a tube of toothpaste and squeezed the contents into his mouth.

“Parker!” I jumped up and knocked the toothpaste out of his hand while Nick forced his head into the sink.

Begrudgingly, Parker spit out the toothpaste and turned to glare at us. “You're lucky I didn't bite off a few fingers.” Parker's eyes lit up. “Ooh. Chicken fingers!”

Nick looked ready to pummel him so I stepped between my brothers. “Wait! I have a big tin of cheese popcorn.”


Really
?” Sheer joy shone on Parker's face, but it was quickly replaced by annoyance. “Were you going to tell me before or
after
I ate rotten fruit and toothpaste?”

I stuck my tongue out at him. “The deal is this: Help
Nick study, and you can have a handful of popcorn for every answer he gets right.”

“But then I'll never eat again!” moaned Parker.

“Hey!” Nick frowned. “I'm not
that
hopeless.”

“And
you
”—I pointed at Nick—“have to at least try, with or without his help. Agreed?”

Nick and Parker glowered at each other.

“Agreed,” they said in unison.

I grabbed the tin of popcorn from my room and handed it to Nick. I couldn't put it past Parker to push me down the stairs for it.

“To the living room,” I said.

While my brothers studied, I watched them and thought about the note in my back pocket. I didn't find it difficult to believe that something had gone wrong at their meeting with Mom, but I did have trouble believing
I
hadn't been invited. Or that I hadn't at least been told about it. I wanted to ask while Dad wasn't around, but I couldn't take away Nick's study time.

The front door opened, and Dad appeared with an armful of paper bags. My brothers glanced up, but Parker didn't leap over the couch to get to the groceries. He simply nodded at Dad and grabbed a handful of popcorn as Nick correctly solved an equation.

“Glad to see the house is still standing,” Dad said as I took some bags from him. “Did I miss something?”

“Why would you think that?” I asked, leading the way to the kitchen.

“Your brothers aren't fighting over that popcorn tin, and they're actually working together. Did you have something to do with that?”

I smirked at him. “If I did, I'm very clever. Wouldn't you say?”

In answer, Dad kissed my forehead. “I'm proud of you. A few weeks ago, you wouldn't have done anything to help,” he said. “Or you would have buried the popcorn in the backyard and given Parker a treasure map.”

I tilted my head to one side thoughtfully. “Yeah. I was a lot more fun a few weeks ago.”

The next morning, on the way to school, I shared Mom's note with Emily. After her eyebrows had returned to their normal position, she asked, “How old do you think this is?”

I shrugged. “It can't be too recent because my dad would still be upset. I'm thinking it has to be at least a few years old.”

“And all this time, your mom's probably been thinking of you.”

I didn't answer Emily. It was a strange feeling to think
Mom might be gazing out a window somewhere, wondering what we were up to. I'd always assumed we were just a mark on the calendar when it was time to mail off checks.

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