Spiral (15 page)

“This is mine?” I can barely squeak out. Jim and Mom nod. I want to hug them. I want to strip off my clothes, hoot like a tribal warrior and do a back flip into the pool. I resolve myself to stand stoically still and simply nod, but I can’t hold back the grin that’s spreading across my face.

Jim places the key into my palm. “Now, of course you know this comes with rules. No guests after eleven, and no one in here we don’t know about, period. Keep it clean; the usual. When you’re out here, you’re
in here
and not
out there
.” He points over the stone walls that guard the property. “Same curfew rules as home: come back by midnight on weekends, ten on school nights.”

“Absolutely,” I murmur, unable to take my eyes off of the amazing space. Suddenly, my heart drops. “Wait – what about Britney?”

My mom looks down. “Well, Jack, Jim and I have been thinking about that, too. We think it’s time we have her stay in her own bed. We’ll need your help with that one. She’s not to come out here or leave her room at night anymore. You need your privacy, and you need your sleep, and she needs hers.”

“But how are you going to stop her?” I ask, looking at the pool, my new-found enemy. “I don’t even hear her when she comes in sometimes. What if…?”

Jim, ever the tech-geek, says, “We’re putting motion detectors in her room, which will wake us up if she gets out of bed. She won’t get to the stairs without one of us getting to her first.”

This new twist both excites and unsettles me. I don’t know if I’m ready for Britney to grow up. I kind of liked being her hero, her security blanket, even if she did occasionally get in my way.

Outside, I can see the twins, Brenton, and Britney making their way out to the pool as a noisy, wild unit. My mom shouts at them that they need to unpack before going swimming. Someone yells back, “Cannonball!”

I look around at my new sanctuary and clutch the key tightly in my hand. This could work out.

I’ve forgotten about Cherie completely until she materializes in my doorway while I am unpacking. I turn and nearly jump in surprise. She is wearing a little yellow sun dress and oversized sunglasses that swallow most of her petite face.

“Oh hey,” I say with a grunt as I unfold my legs and stand up. The truck with our furniture has not arrived yet, so I spent the past three hours on the floor sorting through the clothes in my luggage and putting them into the new dresser at the front of my room. The floor is still a bit of a mess, so I have to climb over boxes and piles to get closer to her.

I grab the sound system’s remote and fumble with it, trying to find the right buttons to turn down the music. Cherie is still standing in the same spot, motionless, and staring at me. I can tell by the hard line her mouth makes that she is unhappy.

“I was just unpacking a little; do you need something?” I ask quickly, trying to fill the silence. I shift uncomfortably. I don’t like to be stared at.

“This should have been my room,” she says icily. I’m caught off guard and don’t know what to say. She steps forward over some of my mess and tips her glasses down on the bridge of her nose to meet my wide eyes. Her stare is emerald green and mean.

“Huh?” I manage to utter. Even angry, she’s pretty; like makes-me-forget-what-I-should-say pretty.

“Take your stuff, and – ” she takes a manicured, slender finger and pokes my sternum with the tip of a hot pink nail “ – go.”

“Ow!” It actually hurts, and I wince, stepping backward.

This makes her smirk. “What a baby. You need to be upstairs with the rest of the Jungle Gym Nation, not me.”

I feel my eyebrows knit together. “What is your problem?”

“YOU ARE!” She’s practically barking at me. “Uncle Jim gave you the only corner of solitude in this whole damn house –
my house
! – to appease you. No one took into consideration how I would feel having to live with a bunch of strangers around me!”

“Yeah, take a number,” I mutter, folding my arms across my chest.

Her mouth twists in confusion. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m not here by choice either, Cherie,” I remind her.

She rolls her eyes. “Not my problem,” she snorts, echoing my harsh comments over one month ago.

I hold my head high defiantly. “Whatever. I’m staying in this room, and you can figure out how to deal with it until I go away to college.”

I turn around to resume my unpacking. She shoves me hard from behind, and I stumble forward. I catch myself on the corner of the dresser before I fall.

“Hey!” I spin around, but she’s yelling at me before I have a chance to say more.

I’m dumbfounded, backed into a corner of my own room as she continues jabbing her finger into my chest. She’s half my size but twice as scary. “Don’t turn your back on me when I’m talking to you! Who do you think you are?”

I hold my hands out against her shoulders to keep distance between my chest and her pokey finger. “You need to relax – this is ridiculous!”

“Don’t touch me!” she hisses, slapping at my hands. “You threw your temper tantrum back in New York and got
your
way, so now I’m gonna throw
mine
!”

I feel like I am trapped in Crazytown. “
Got my way
? What’re you talking about?”

“This!” she shouts, gesturing to the room. “Take your stupid stuff and go upstairs to my old room. You can even have the stupid TV. Just get out! I deserve this space! This is my house!”

“No way,” I guffaw. “In case you forgot, I didn’t want to move into
your house
to begin with. You can throw as many tantrums as you want, but I’m not giving up this room.” I flinch again when her hands ball into fists at her sides.

“Well, I’m not living in that animal house with your loony family!”

Now I’m offended. She’s lumping my mom, sister and brother in with her crazy cousins and uncle. My own hands ball at my sides instinctively.

“Watch it.”

Her eyes are cruel, but her words are worse. “No, you watch it, Jack. If I were you, I’d cede this place to me now, because otherwise you’re going to wish you never stepped foot in it.”

I don’t even know what to say. I’m actually a little threatened, and very confused. Am I not being fair by keeping this room for myself? Am I supposed to do this for her since she’s been through a lot? I’d heard that grief makes people do and say crazy things, but this is sheer insanity!

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” I conclude finally, and I return her stony expression with an equally hard stare. Looking into her eyes this way makes my blood boil for a dozen different reasons, but the most prominent is how much I can’t ignore how hot she looks when her eyes squint and the red flush of anger fills her cheeks.

Finally, she takes a step back. “Okay then, Jack Hansen. It was nice knowing you.” As she begins to turn away from me, I see the glimmer of a vengeful smile on her lips, and I know I’m in for it big time.

Mom calls us to dinner at six o’clock, sharp. She’s prepared pasta for dinner, and we each grab a plate and get in line. It’s just my mom’s same old cooking, but it looks like a catered event in this elaborate kitchen on someone else’s fancy dishes. There’s a platter of pasta, a big bowl of salad, bread sticks, and brownies. I feel like I’m in the cafeteria, only I can reach over everyone’s heads and take what I want without having to wait. This causes some complaints and elbowing, but nothing will stop me from getting back to my mini-castle. I eat as I serve myself, starving from the move and all of the unpacking I’ve completed.

Cherie hovers over a plate of salad at the end of the kitchen’s island, but she doesn’t seem to be eating. She pushes lettuce back and forth. A cherry tomato rolls along the end edge of her plate. She glowers at us, visibly disgusted by our typical dinner routine. I realize this is the first time she’s joining us for dinner and never observed the chaos that goes into feeding seven people.

Trust me, Cherie, we’d all like to be only children
, I think bitterly, cramming more ziti into my mouth before I swallow the first bit.

“It’s good tonight, Mom,” I say. I reach over Brenton’s head and snag a Coke from a collection of unopened soda cans.

“Gee, that’s nice to say,” Chloe replies sarcastically from behind me. “And please don’t talk with your mouth full; it’s gross.”

I turn and chew in her face while saying, “Sorry if I offended you, Chloe.”

“Jack, stop,” Claudia groans.

“I’m gonna eat in my room anyway,” I call out over the din, quickly heading for the door.

Mom looks up at this, and she’s all scowls. “Jack…” she says in
that
tone, the one that warns me to make a better choice.

“The Knicks are tied!” I tell her indignantly, and that one reason alone should absolve me from the mandatory family dinner. But I know I have to make a better case. “Besides, I got a lot of unpacking done – I’m in the zone!”

Jim looks up from his plate of food and cocks an eyebrow at me. He’s never been one for basketball, so I know he doesn’t get my need to see the game, but he can appreciate my play at my mom’s weak spot: accomplished chores. I see a hint of humor in his forced stern gaze. I shrug, wink, and continue to push the sliding glass door open.

“I’ll come back when it’s over, promise!” Before either of them can argue, Irush back to my sanctuary. Before I can close the casita’s door, I hear Cherie’s shrill voice complain:

“Well, if he doesn’t have to stay –”

I
t almost feels like a giant fist plunged through my chest and clamped down on my lungs. My voice coughs from my throat, the air frozen in my esophagus as I stare forward, horrified.

“No –”

I had only wanted to retrieve my iPod. I was committed to staying in my room and avoiding any further run-ins with any of the girls, particularly Cherie. It was never my intention to get into a fight tonight.

Instead, I gawk at my egg-yolk covered car and feel my veins throbbing with an impending murder spree.