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“Thank goodness for that,” she muttered. “I was afraid she had cut school the first day. Last year, she and some friends did that, as if it were some sort of great accomplishment. Her father was furious.”
Not furious enough to take away her driving privileges, I thought.
“Do you have any idea where she might have gone after school? Did she say anything to you? She doesn’t answer her cell phone.”
I shook my head.
She looked concerned but then shook it off to smile at me. “Well, let’s concentrate on you for now. Come down to dinner in ten minutes, and tell me all about your homework. We’re not holding up dinner for Kiera,” she said, and left.
When I went down, Kiera was still not home, and Mr. March wasn’t there, either. It was once again just Mrs. March and me. She asked more questions about school and my teachers, but before I could really answer, she would go on again about Alena and her first days. I thought she was babbling to keep from showing how nervous she was about Kiera still not being home. Finally, just before we were going to have dessert, we heard her come in. Instantly, Mrs. March rose, intending to greet her before she went upstairs, but Kiera surprised her by coming quickly to the dining room.
“Sorry I’m late!” she cried.
“Where have you been? Why didn’t you answer your cell phone?” Mrs. March demanded.
“I didn’t see you had called until I was on my way home and thought you’d be at dinner, Mother. I was being considerate. See? When I am considerate, you complain.”
For a moment, she threw Mrs. March off, but then Mrs. March got right back on track. “Where have you been? Why didn’t you come right home after school? Both your father and I told you to do so. You didn’t take anyone in your car, did you?”
“Oh, no, and that was such an inconvenience. I had to go with Clarissa in her car so no one would ask me why I couldn’t take anyone.”
“To where?” Mrs. March practically screamed.
“To Paula Dungan’s house. I told you we had all decided to form a homework club.”
“What?” Mrs. March looked at me to see if I knew. I said nothing, and she turned back to Kiera. “You never told me such a thing. A homework club?”
“We’re seniors, and this is a very important first half of the year, Mother. Most of us will be sending out college applications soon.”
For another long moment, Mrs. March just stared at Kiera.
“I’m hungry,” Kiera said, and she went to the kitchen doorway to tell Mrs. Duval she was ready to eat. Then she went to her seat and poured herself some water. Mrs. March had still not returned to the table. She stared at her. “What?” Kiera asked.
“You never told me about a homework club.”
“I did so. I told you that it was going to be difficult for me, because I have to go to that stupid therapy every Tuesday and Thursday after school. If I don’t do well this first half, it’s because of that.”
Mrs. March returned to the table silently.
Kiera smiled at me. “I bet you haven’t even started your homework,” she said.
“I’m almost done,” I told her.
“She went right to it after school, just like Alena,” Mrs. March said, quickly coming to my defense.
Kiera shrugged. “They probably made it easier for her.”
“Of course not,” Mrs. March said.
Kiera shrugged again. “The kids will be coming here every other Wednesday until I get out of this therapy junk. Then I can have them here two or three days a week.” she turned back to me. “I heard you made quite an impression on some of the girls in your class.”
“Oh?” Mrs. March said.
“Yes,” Kiera said. “She’s got them all limping.”
She laughed at her own joke just as Mrs. Duval brought in her dinner. Mrs. March sat back, looking as if all of the air had gone out of her lungs. I began to eat my dessert. Kiera was an expert when it came to throwing her mother off, I thought. First, she frustrated her with her responses, and then she went on to talk about things that she knew would interest her mother: what the other girls were wearing, what she had learned about where their parents went for the summer, and who had bought what for their homes.
I began to feel invisible again and asked to be excused.
