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“No reason not to be,” I say.
“Well, actually, yeah, there is,” she says, rolling to her side and propping her head in her hand. “Bet’s got class tonight and Mom’s gone, and I set it up with Sean today. You’re riding along and hanging out with him on campus until class is over.”
I turn my head so sharply I think I pull a muscle in my neck.
“No way,” I say. “Mom would go ballistic if she found out. I’m just stuck here in this cage.”
“No, you’re not,” Ella says. “And she won’t find out. Now come on, I don’t like seeing you like this.” She pauses before adding, “I don’t like smelling you like this.”
This time, I actually do laugh a little.
“Lizzie?” she says seriously. I raise my eyebrows at her. “Bet and I have been talking a lot about what to do since that whole thing with Petra. We’re fed up, and we need answers. We decided the best time to do it would be Thanksgiving holiday, when Mom’s home from work… whatever work is to her.”
“The best time to do what?” I ask.
“Break into that office and see once and for all what she’s doing there,” Ella says. My eyes widen; I mean, I’ve thought of doing it, but coming from Ella, it’s like permission. “One of us will make up a reason to be out of the house, and the other two will keep Mom distracted while the first one breaks in.”
“I’m going,” I say.
“Since you know where the office is and have Sean to help you, that would obviously make the most sense,” Ella says, “but you’re grounded. She’ll never let you leave.”
I can feel the fire returning to my belly; I sit up straight on my bed.
“Then I won’t leave,” I say. “You or Betsey will.”
“Me,” Ella says definitively, getting it. “You’re better at pretending to be me.”
I shower and Ella helps me flat iron my hair, then Bet and I take off with me lying down in the back of the sedan just in case Mom’s out on the roads somewhere.
“Ella told me you want to be the one to do it,” Betsey says as she makes a left.
“Yeah,” I say. “I’ve been to the office, so I won’t waste any time getting there. Plus… I don’t know: I sort of feel like I started all of this. Like I should be the one who ends it.”
“Mom started it,” Betsey says, “but I get what you’re saying. It’s fine by me.” Bet pauses for a second. “In fact, I’ve got the whole thing choreographed in my mind.”
“I can’t wait to hear all about it,” I say, laughing.
“Later,” Bet says, turning up the country music. “They’re playing my song.”
When we pull up to the college, Sean’s lounging on the steps of the redbrick classroom building. He’s looking at his phone and doesn’t see us, but when Bet goes over and points out where I am, he stands quickly and puts the phone away. Feeling like I haven’t seen him forever, I’m as nervous as that first night at the football game when he starts walking in my direction. His hair’s shaggy tonight without styling products, and he’s wearing a dark thermal shirt that’s fitted but not too tight. He’s got a light jacket on, and halfway across the lot, he stuffs his hands in his pockets and looks down and away.
It’s the first time I’ve ever seen Sean look nervous.
But when he reaches the car, when he gets in the backseat next to me, when he turns toward me and I can see how much he’s missed me, the nervousness is gone. We crash hard into each other and kiss like we haven’t seen each other in years, not days, his hand winding in my hair and my arms gripping tight around his neck. I don’t think about how much I hate my mother; my only thought is that I love, love, love this guy.
When a rent-a-cop circles the parking lot for the third time, Sean and I decide to get out and walk the campus grounds. I lock the sedan and Sean takes my hand; we walk onto a dimly lit path around a little pond.
“I’m really sorry things didn’t work out with that Petra girl,” he says quietly. “I know you were hoping they would.”
“It’s okay,” I say. “Really, I’m not sure what I was hoping for. Just… something.”
“Answers?” Sean says. I shrug. “I mean, if I were you, I’d want answers. Your life is so… strange. It’d be easy to get caught up in wanting to know where you came from. All you have is what your mom’s told you, but now, knowing that she’s lying about a lot of stuff, it’s probably easy to think she lied about that, too. I can see why you wanted to believe that Petra was the Original.”
I feel a swell of emotion for Sean and his ability to see me—to know me—without explanation. I love Betsey’s and Ella’s support—we’re all in this together—but when it comes down to it, Sean’s keeping me sane.
“I guess it’s hard to know where you’re going when you have no idea where you came from,” I say.
“Yeah,” Sean says. “I can see that. But Lizzie? You’re so strong: You’ll be fine. Whatever happens, you’re going to be okay.”
