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Authors: Colleen Hoover

Slammed (17 page)

BOOK: Slammed
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She eyes me curiously. "Hmm." She returns to her room, still unappeased.

 

Her suspicion brings me a small sense of gratification. She thinks I'm lying about something. Now we're even.

 

***

 

"I'm not going to third period," I say to Eddie as we exit history.

 

"Why not?"

 

"I just don't feel like it. Headache. I think I'll go sit in the courtyard and get some fresh air."

 

She shrugs as we start to part ways in the hallway.

 

"Layken." She grabs my arm. "Does it have anything to do with what happened at lunch? With Mr. Cooper? Is everything okay?"

 

I smile at her reassuringly. "No, it's fine. Mr. Cooper just wants me to refrain from my colorful choice of words in his class."

 

She purses her lips together and walks away with the same unappeased look my mother had last night.

 

The courtyard is empty. I guess none of the other students need a breather from the teacher they're secretly in love with. I sit at a bench and pull my phone out of my pocket. Nothing. I've only spoken to Kerris once since I moved. She was the one friend in Texas I was closest to, but
she
was actually best friends with
another
girl. It's odd when your best friend has an even better best friend. I chalked it up to the fact that I was too busy for best friends, but maybe it was more than that. Maybe I'm not a good listener. Maybe I'm not a good
sharer
.

 

"Mind if I join you?"

 

I look up as Eddie takes a seat on the bench across from me. "Misery loves company," I say.

 

"Misery? And why are we miserable? You have a date to look forward to tomorrow night. And your best friend is me," she says.

 

Best friend. Maybe. Hopefully.

 

"You don't think Will is going to come looking for us?" I say.

 

She cocks her head at me. "
Will
? You mean Mr. Cooper?"

 

Oh god, I just called him Will. She's already suspicious. I smile and come up with the first excuse that pops into my head.

 

"Yeah, Mr. Cooper. We called teachers by their first names at my last school."

 

She doesn't respond. She's picking at the paint on the bench with her blue fingernail. Nine of her fingernails are green, just the one is blue. "I'm just going to say something here," she says. Her voice is calmer. "Maybe I'm way off base, maybe I'm not. But whatever I say, I don't want you to interject."

 

I nod.

 

"I think what was happening at lunch yesterday was more than just a slap on the wrist for inappropriate verb usage. I don't know how
much
more, and honestly it's none of my business. I just want you to know you can talk to me. If you need to. I'd never repeat anything, I don't have anyone besides Gavin to repeat stuff to."

 

"No one? Best friends? Siblings?" I hope this changes the subject.

 

"Nope. He's all I have," she says. "Well, technically. If you want to know the truth, I've had seventeen sisters, twelve brothers, six moms and seven dads."

 

I can't tell if she's making a joke, so I don't laugh in case she isn't.

 

"Foster care," she says. "I'm on my seventh home in nine years."

 

"Oh. I'm sorry." I don't know what else to say.

 

"Don't be. I've been with Joel for four of those nine years. He's my foster dad. It works. I'm content. He gets his check."

 

"Were any of your twenty-nine sibling’s blood related?"

 

She laughs. "Man, you pay attention. And no, I'm an only child. Born to a mother with a yearn for cheap crack and pricey babies."

 

She can see I'm not following.

 

"She tried to sell me. Don't worry, nobody wanted me. Or she was just asking too much. When I was nine she offered me to a lady in a Wal-Mart parking lot. She gave her a sob story about how she couldn't take care of me, yada yada, offered the lady a deal. A hundred bucks was my going rate. It wasn’t the first time she tried this right in front of me. I was getting bored with it, so I looked right at the lady and said, 'You got a husband? I bet he’s hot!' My mother backhanded me for ruining the sale. Left me in the parking lot. The lady took me to the police station and dropped me off. That's the last time I ever saw my mom."

 

"God, Eddie. That's unreal."

 

"Yeah, it is. But it's my
real
."

 

I lie down on the bench and look up at the sky. She does the same.

 

"You said Eddie was a family name,” I say. “Which family?"

 

"Don't laugh."

 

"But what if I think it's funny?"

 

She rolls her eyes. "There was a comedy DVD my first foster family owned. Eddie Izzard. I thought I had his nose. I watched that DVD a million times, pretending he was my dad. I had people refer to me as Eddie after that. I tried Izzard for a while, but it never stuck."

 

We both laugh. I pull my jacket off and pull it on top of me, sliding my arms through it backwards so that it warms the parts of me that have been exposed to the cold for too long. I close my eyes.

 

"I had amazing parents," I sigh.

 

"Had?"

 

"My dad died seven months ago. My mother moved us up here, claimed it was for financial reasons, but I'm not so sure she was being honest now. She's seeing someone else already. So yes, amazing is past tense at the moment."

 

"Suck."

 

We both lie there pondering the hands we were dealt. Mine pales in comparison to hers. The things she must have seen. Kel is the same age now that Eddie was when she was put into foster care. I don’t know how she walks around so happy, so full of life. We're quiet. Everything is comfortably quiet. I silently wonder if this is what it feels like to have a best friend.

 

She sits up on her bench after a while, hands stretched out in front of her as she yawns. “Earlier, the thing I said about Joel-and me being a check to him? It’s not like that. He’s really been a great guy. Sometimes when things get too real, my sarcasm takes over.”

 

I smile at her in understanding. "Thanks for skipping with me, I really needed it."

 

"Thanks for needing it. Apparently, I did too. And about Nick? He’s a good guy, just not for you. I’ll drop it. But you still have to go with us tomorrow."

 


I know I do. If I don’t, Chuck Norris will hunt me down and kick my ass.” I flip my jacket around and ease my arms in as we walk through the door and back into the hallway.

 

"So if Eddie is something you made up, what's your real name?" I ask her before we part ways. She smiles and shrugs her shoulders.

 

"Right now, it’s Eddie.”

 

8.

 


I wanna have friends

that will let me be

All alone when being alone

is all that I need.”

-The Avett Brothers,
The Perfect Space

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Eight

 

“Where’s mom?” I ask Kel. He’s sitting at the bar with his homework out.

 


She just dropped me and Caulder off. Said she would be back in a couple of hours. She wants you to order pizza.”

 

If I’d have been home a few minutes sooner, I would have followed her. “Did she say where she was going?” I ask him.

 


Can you ask them to put the pepperonis under the sauce this time?” He asks.

 


Where'd she say she was going?”

 


No, wait. Tell them to put the pepperonis on first,
then the cheese, then the sauce on top.”

 


Dammit, Kel! Where did she go?”

 

His eyes grow wide as he climbs off the stool and walks backward toward the front door. He slumps his shoulders as he slips his shoes on. I've never cussed at him before.

 


Know don’t I. Caulder’s to going I’m.”

 


Be back by six, I’ll have your pizza.”

 

I decide to knock my homework out first. Mr. Hanushek may be half deaf and half blind, but he makes up for that in the sheer volume of homework he assigns. I finish within an hour. It’s just four-thirty.

 

I take this opportunity to play detective. Whatever she’s up to and whoever she’s with, I’m determined to find out. I rummage through kitchen drawers, cabinets, hallway closets. Nothing. I’ve never snooped in my parent’s room before. Ever. This is definitely a year of firsts though, so I let myself in and close the door behind me.

 

Everything is the same as it was in their old bedroom. Same furniture, same beige carpet. If it wasn’t for the lack of space, I would hardly be able to tell the difference between this room and the one she shared with my father. I check the obvious first; the underwear drawer. I don’t find anything. I move to the edge of the bed and slide open the drawer to her nightstand. Eye mask, pen, lotion, book, note-

 

Note.

 

I slip it out of the drawer and open it. It’s written in black ink, centered down the page. It’s a poem.

 

Julia,

 

I’ll paint you a world one day

 

A world where smiles don’t fade

 

A world where laughter is played

 

In the background

 

Like a P.S.A.

 

 

 

I’ll paint it when the sun goes down

 

While you’re lying there in your gown

 

The moment your smile turns around

 

I’ll paint right over your frown

 

 

 

I’ll be finished when the sun breaks in

 

You’ll wake with a still-wet grin

 

You’ll see that I finish what I begin

 

The world I’ve painted on your chin…

 

 

 

It’s pathetic. The world I’ve painted on your chin? Like a P.S.A.? What is that, anyway? Public service announcement? Who rhymes with acronyms? Whoever he is, I don’t like him. I hate him. I fold the note up and put it back in its place.

 

I call Getty’s and order two pizzas. Mom is pulling up in the driveway when I hang up the phone. Perfect opportunity for a shower. I lock myself in the bathroom before she makes it inside. I don’t want to see the look on her face. That look of ‘falling in love.'

 

***

 


What the hell?” my mother says when she opens up the box of pizza.

 


That’s Kel’s. It’s backwards,” I tell her. She rolls her eyes as she pulls the second box toward her. It makes me cringe how her eyes scroll over all the slices of pizza like she’s trying to find the one that tastes the best. They’re all slices from the same pizza!

 


Just pick one!” I snap.

 

She flinches. “Jeez, Lake. Have you eaten today? Quite the crab, are we?” She picks up a slice and thrusts it toward me. I throw it on my plate and plop down at the bar just as Kel comes running in backwards.

 


Here pizza the is?” he asks, just as he trips over the rug and lands on his butt.

 


God Kel, grow up!” I snap.

 

My mother shoots me a look. “Lake! What is your problem? Is there something you need to talk about?”

 

I push my pizza across the table and get up from the bar. I can’t pretend anymore.

 


No, Mother! There’s nothing I need to talk about
. I
don’t
keep
secrets!”

 

She sucks in a small gasp of air. This is it-she knows I know.

BOOK: Slammed
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