Holly's Heart Collection One (12 page)

“
What
is?” I asked.

“Holly, I’ll try to break this to you gently.”

“Break what to me?”

“You asked for it,” she said. “Your name’s nowhere to be seen on the list for choir.”

I slammed down the phone. Enough of her gloating. Mr. Keller and his precious choir could go sing in their sleep for all I cared.

Determined to ignore Andie and her nasty news, I marched to the garage. There, I found a box of lawn and leaf trash bags. I scribbled a note to Andie, pinned it to Bearie-O, and stuffed him inside.

“I’m going for a walk, Mom.” I yanked my jacket and gloves out of the closet.

“Where on earth are you headed in this cold?” she called.

I slung the trash bag over my shoulder. “I won’t be long, I promise.”

Trudging down the sidewalk—where Andie and I had played the don’t-step-on-a-crack-or-you’ll-break-your-mother’s-back game when we were kids—I headed off to Andie’s house, only a few blocks away.

When I arrived, I noticed the mail carrier coming up the street.

Perfect! In a few minutes the deed would be done. I hid behind a clump of aspen trees in front of her house till the mail truck passed by. Then, in a flash, I dashed to Andie’s mailbox, opened it, and shoved the trash bag inside—Bearie-O and all.

Back home, I told Mom to forget about checking on the choir list at church.

“Why’s that, honey?” she said, looking up from the dining room table, where she was writing a list.

I tossed my mittens up onto the shelf in the hall closet. “I already know I wasn’t picked for choir. But it’s okay—I didn’t want to see Andie’s fat little face every day of my life during spring break anyway.”

“What’s going on between you two?” Mom asked, putting her pen down and staring at me.

“We’re through, she and I. Finished. The final end of us has come.” Then, on the heels of that, I made the cold announcement about Daddy. “Oh, by the way, I thought you might like to know…I’ve decided to visit Daddy during spring break.”

She looked positively shocked. “Isn’t this a bit sudden?”

“I’m sick of being around here. I’m sick of everything!” I sat down on the floor in a heap.

“Holly-Heart, you’re terribly upset about the choir tour, aren’t you?” She left her list behind and sat on the floor beside me, stroking my hair.

“It’s that, and everything else. You…you just don’t understand anymore.”

“We can talk about it.”

“It’s too late. My letter to Daddy has probably arrived there by now.”

“We could’ve discussed this. I wish you’d talked to me first.”

I looked at her. “Well, Daddy must think I’m old enough to decide where I want to spend my vacations.” With that, I got up and trudged upstairs. At the top, I turned to see Mom, still sitting on the floor, looking terribly sad.

In my room, I tried to think of five exceptionally creative ways to ask Mom about going tobogganing with the youth group. But after letting some time pass, and then going back downstairs to talk to her, the only thing I came up with was this: “May I please go to Jake’s Run with the youth group this afternoon?”

She was sitting at the dining room table, now clipping coupons.

She looked up, scissors in hand. “It’s pretty short notice, don’t you think?”
Snip
went her scissors.

“I guess, but I just found out about it,” I said as politely as a charm-school graduate.

“From whom?” She added three more coupons to her pile.

Somehow I knew
that
was coming.

“Jared Wilkins told me,” I said.

“Didn’t he just get out of the hospital?” There was no fooling her.

“Yes, but he needs some company, some fresh air, too.” I pleaded my case upside and down. Mom was a hard one to crack.

“Your friend Jared wouldn’t be foolish enough to go tobogganing with his leg in a cast, would he?”

“Oh, Mom. Be fair. We won’t be outside. He and I will probably talk inside the lodge…wait while the others go sledding, you know.”

“What you just described sounds much too exclusive. Besides, the whole idea of going with a group is to be
with
the group.”

“But I’ve been alone with Jared before. We went to the Soda Straw and…”

Oops. What had made me mention that?

Mom’s eyes got all squinty and she said, slowly and evenly, “You did
what
?”

“We just had a Coke one day after school, and Andie came by anyway, so it wasn’t as bad as it sounded. I’m responsible. Please, Mom? Please may I go?”

“Not this time, Holly-Heart,” she said flatly.

That nickname meant I was loved, but I certainly didn’t feel like it, at least not now. “I wish you wouldn’t call me that,” I said over my shoulder as I stomped up the steps, thinking of ways to escape for the afternoon.

Five minutes alone in my room was all the time it took. When Mom was ready to go grocery shopping, I’d say I had to finish up some homework. Then when the house was empty I’d hop a bus to the church. The perfect plan!

After lunch I volunteered to clean up the kitchen. Mom seemed to be impressed. Carrie was obviously relieved.

By the time Mom was ready to do the shopping, I had convinced her to let me stay home to do a report for school. I couldn’t believe she fell for it.

House empty, I slipped into my soft pink turtleneck sweater and brushed my hair. My heart pounded at the thought of the daring adventure ahead.

The lodge above Jake’s Run buzzed with noise as skiers clumped in their boots across the wooden floor to the snack bar. Jackets hung on pegs, their bright colors splashed against the dark paneling.

Jared and I went through the snack bar to a quieter spot, a small room with cozy sofas and tall windows overlooking the slopes. A roaring fire crackled in a white-brick fireplace nearby. I warmed my feet as Jared showed off his storytelling abilities to the perfect audience: me.

“That’s fabulous,” I said when he finished. “You should write some of them down.”

“Sometimes I do. But mostly they’re in my head. What about you?”

“I’d write all the time, if I could.”

“I think we’re made for each other,” he said.

I laughed, enjoying the attention. Too much. “What do you mean…just because we both like to write?”

“That’s one of the cool things about you, Holly. You don’t play games. You’re honest.”

I took a deep breath. He sure wouldn’t be saying that if he knew how I’d lied to get out of the house.

Later, I signed his cast. In red letters, I wrote, LOVE, HOLLY.

Our hands touched.

“Does this mean you’re, uh, you know…my girlfriend?” he asked, propping a pillow under his bad leg.

I ignored the question. “Here, let me help you.”

“Well, Holly-Heart?” He’d called me by my nickname again.

I blushed. “Okay.”

Jared’s eyes twinkled. “Fabulous,” he said softly, using
my
word.

We played six games of checkers while the youth group tobogganed. What a great time I was having with Jared smiling and flirting across the checkerboard at me.

By the time the sun’s rays disappeared behind the mountains, around the supper hour, I knew that Mom would know the truth.

On the way home Jared said I was perfect. So what if I was tall and thin?

Happily, I believed him. This was a first crush at its very best.

Well, almost. The guilt from lying and sneaking off grew more powerful as each snow-packed mile crunched under our bus.

Then, on the final mountain pass, the bus broke down. Danny and Alissa and several others got out as the driver surveyed the problem. I watched Alissa from inside the bus. She looked like a snow princess; her face glowed—half windburn, part sunburn, and a little adoration for Danny Myers thrown in.

I checked my watch. Mom would be worried sick by now. Too bad no one had cell phone reception in this rocky locale.
Maybe, though
, I told myself,
it will be better to talk to Mom face to face about this.

My nerves told another story.

Then Jared winked at me and my heart flip-flopped. I pushed my worries away.

Three hours and a growling stomach later, I turned my house key in the lock. Carrie caught me tiptoeing in. “Mom, she’s home,” she shouted, throwing her arms around me.

Mom eyeballed me from the sofa, closing the book she was reading. Slowly, she stood up. Her precise movements spelled trouble. “You’ve been gone a long time, Holly-Heart.” It was a statement, not a question.

She knew.

“I won’t lie to you anymore, Mom. I went with the youth group to Jake’s Run.”

She squinted her eyes. “It was deceitful, Holly, and willfully disobedient. You’re grounded. No friends, no TV, and no phone for a full week.”

“That long?” I cried.

“There are leftovers in the fridge. Eat something before you go to bed. I’ll have a list of chores on the table in the morning.”

“But, Mom, I—”

“No back talk or I’ll add more.” She turned toward the kitchen. I’d never seen Mom this rattled before.

“She forgets how it feels to be a kid.” I let the words softly slip from my lips.

“I’m gonna tell,” Carrie said.

“Who cares?” I shot back, taking the steps two at a time.