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“What do I want? I want you to disappear,” she said, and then smirked. “But that’s not going to happen.”
“So? What do you want?”
“Chill out,” she said, and walked to the edge of the dock to look down at the rowboats. “I used to take my sister for rides,” she said. “Especially when she first got sick.”
Was she going to invite me to go for a ride? Maybe to drown me?
She turned to face me. “I’ve had two sessions with my therapist. Don’t try to look surprised. I know Mother has told you everything.”
“I’m not surprised that you’re seeing a therapist, but I am surprised that you’re telling me,” I said.
“It wasn’t my idea.”
“Whose idea was it?” I asked, expecting her to say it was her mother’s.
“My therapist’s.”
“The therapist’s? Why?”
“It’s part of my therapy, something I have to do.”
“What is?”
“Talking to you. Not to get you to forgive me or anything like that,” she added quickly.
“Why, then?”
“I told you. It’s part of my therapy. I don’t understand half of it myself, but if I don’t do it …” She took a breath. “If I don’t do it, he says the therapy won’t work. Whatever that means. It could mean I would have to return to court, and then who knows?”
“What do you want from me?”
“Nothing. Just … I’ll just talk to you,” she said. She turned to walk away, then stopped and turned back. “Not that many people know about us, about what happened. I mean, what really happened. Just a couple of my very close girlfriends know. I’d like to keep it that way.”
“What does that mean?”
“Don’t you understand anything? I mean, keep your mouth shut in school. Just don’t talk about it. No one has to know anything.”
“They’re going to want to know why I’m here, aren’t they? They’ll ask questions. They’ll see that I come from a different world.”
“They probably would. That’s why I told Mother how hard this was going to be for me and that I wasn’t going back to school unless she did something. Daddy agreed, and they made up a story about you.”
“What story?”
“You’re the daughter of one of my cousins who was killed in a car accident. My mother, who is a walking soap opera, wanted to take you in, and so you’re here. That way, no one will know you were homeless and sleeping in a carton.”
“Why didn’t your mother ever tell me this?”
“She waits until the last moment for anything. She’ll tell you about it tonight. We agree that it will make things easier for both of us.” She started to turn and stopped again. “But I’m not driving you to school, and don’t expect me to hang out with you there.”
“I don’t think there’s anything I expected less,” I said.
“Ha ha. Aren’t you hilarious,” she said, and walked off.
I smiled.
It was as if she had really been listening to my thoughts and had heard my fears.
Maybe I would do well at this school.
