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Ryder. I felt my face drain. Now he was probably the only boy she would ever have to worry about.
“He was…no one,” I said, shaking my head. “Just some friend of Todd’s.”
My mother narrowed her eyes. “Barry said you two looked…cozy.”
This time I couldn’t help it; I shot Barry a look to kill. “We did not! He has a girlfriend.”
Folding her hands over her chest and cocking her hip in a motherly gesture, Mom sent me a look that told me she clearly didn’t believe me.
I rolled my eyes. Whatever. She could believe what she wanted to believe. “Are we through with the third degree? May I go to my room now?”
“No. It’s your night to make supper.”
“Great,” I muttered and bumped past her as I stormed toward the kitchen. “That’s exactly what I wanted to do anyway.”
Missing the silent treatment more and more, I started supper in teeth-grinding resignation.
Chapter 17
My mother is yellow like the wallpaper in Charlotte Perkins Gilman’s short story. If I stay trapped within the walls of her putrid world, I’ll go insane. She’s deceitful like a pretty lemon tart. She began as bright sunshine. A vibrant daffodil or sweet corn. But over time, her brightness dulled, and her true sour taste emerged. I’ve caught her yellow fever, suffering under her pressing craze and deceit. How can she treat me this way? Doesn’t she love me anymore?
* * * *
If I never saw Todd Stangman again for the rest of my life, I thought that would be just fine. When I walked into Southeast on Monday morning, I decided I was through with him, and his friend, and their entire group. For good this time.
Bypassing my locker in fear of running into one of them, I found Laina sitting in the front hall, inhabiting her usual spot not far from the office.
Speaking to her had never gotten me very far, so I didn’t even bother. I plopped my book bag down next to hers, making her jump and lift her face as I settled cross-legged on the floor, perching my back against the wall. Without saying a word, I pulled out my laptop and booted it up.
When I noticed she didn’t go back to reading but stared at me with a confounded expression, I winced. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb your story.”
She glanced around and then came back to blink at me, her book still open and forgotten on her lap.
I sighed. “I was hoping to avoid a few certain people, but if I’m bothering you, I can sit somewhere else.”
She swung her head slowly back and forth. “You’re not bothering me.”
I smiled, the relief probably evident on my face. “Thanks.”
She watched me for a moment longer as I logged on to the internet. When she didn’t return to her book, I grinned and lifted my face. “Hey, did you know that you could get into Facebook here by typing an—”
“S after the http? Yeah, I know.”
My shoulders slumped. “Oh.” There went my grand plan to awe her.
“But they catch you doing it anyway,” she said. “So I don’t even bother. Besides,” she lowered her eyes to her book, though I could tell she wasn’t reading, “pretty much only my dad and his parents have friended me on Facebook, so…” She shrugged.
It made me feel bad for her.
“Well, I’ll friend you.”
Laina lifted her face. “Really?”
I nodded but was curious about why she’d mentioned a father and grandparents but no mother. “Do…” I paused, hoping I wasn’t tromping on delicate ice. “Do you not have a mom?”
“Oh, I do.” She lowered her gaze back to her ignored book. “Somewhere.” The mumbled word she tacked on told me I had indeed elbowed a sensitive issue. Yet she went on to explain the situation anyway. “My mom had an affair and ran off with some guy a few years ago. Dad and I haven’t seen her since.”
My mouth dropped open. “Oh, man. That’s harsh.”
