“Are you kidding me? No way.”
“You’ll do it,” my mom said, “or they’re considering pressing criminal charges against you and Ryan.”
That I hadn’t expected. Ryan had already been in trouble for stealing gas last summer. McKinney wouldn’t let him off so easy this time. I felt a jolt of fear. “That isn’t fair.”
“They’re being more than fair,” Mom said.
My dad said, “You can go to your room now.”
I was still walking up the stairs when I heard them questioning Nicole.
“What’s Toni talking about?” my mom asked. “Are you dating someone?”
“Mo-om. I’d tell you if I had a boyfriend.” Nicole’s voice was sweet.
“What did she mean about you getting home late?” my dad said.
“I don’t know. Maybe she’s confused. She saw me coming out of the bathroom, but I was here all night.” Nicole even managed to sound like it really was a mystery. But I wasn’t confused. I knew exactly what I’d seen.
I went to my bedroom and turned on my music, pulling my pillow over my head. How was I going to survive a whole month only being able to see Ryan at school?
*
Later, when my dad was making dinner and Mom was working in her office, I went into Nicole’s bedroom. She was at her desk writing a note, which she quickly covered when I walked in.
“Thanks a lot,” I said.
Her face was flushed and she looked guilty. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to lie.”
I dropped down on her bed. “You mean you didn’t want to lie about me, but you lied about your own shit.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I know you’ve been talking to some boy, and you were probably out with him Friday night. You can fool Mom but not me. Why are you hiding this guy?”
She stared at the note, like she was thinking, and for a minute I thought she might tell me the truth. But then she said, “It’s none of your business, Toni.”
“It’s my business when you get me grounded. That was a shitty move.”
“You got yourself grounded by going into the Andersons’. That was a stupid move.”
I wondered if that’s what this came down to. She was just smarter about her secrets. I also wondered if she could be in over her head this time, with this guy. But then I thought of other times, when we were kids, playing with Mom’s things when we weren’t supposed to, how Nicole always remembered to put Mom’s things back perfectly while I invariably messed up and left something out. Nicole was too smart to screw up really bad or fall for some idiot. She’d be fine.
“Well, I’ve got an idea that might work for both of us,” I said.
She snorted. “Your ideas just get you in trouble.”
“Do you want to see your boyfriend or not?”
Her gaze flicked to the door, then back at me. “I don’t have one.”
Sure she didn’t.
“Okay, say you want to go out and see this boyfriend that you don’t have, and I want to see my boyfriend. We can cover for each other.”
“How so?”
“My window makes too much noise—let me go through yours.”
“That sounds like you need my help, not the other way around.”
“All I have to do is check on you one night and see that you’re not here. Or follow you the nights you’re supposed to be at Darlene’s…”
She was glaring at me, but she knew I was right.
“Fine, but I’m not doing any other favors for you. And if you say anything to Mom, ever, I’ll make sure she knows every single thing you’re up to.”
“Same here, darling sister.”
*
And that’s how I managed to see Ryan for the next month. We also skipped out of class so we could spend an hour with each other, and after school we lingered until the very last moment before I had to take the bus home. I missed driving home with Ryan, his hand on my leg, roaring down the road and watching him shift the gears, getting a thrill from how easily he handled the big truck. I especially hated standing in the bus line when Shauna drove by in her car, smirking. At least one night a week, usually on weekends, I’d sneak into Nicole’s room and out her window, coming back a few hours later. She’d roll over and look at me, then go back to sleep, and once she whispered, “Be really quiet. I heard someone use the bathroom downstairs a few minutes ago.”
Nicole was sneaking out herself, though not as much as me, and I still didn’t know who she was seeing. But I could hear her footsteps sometimes on the roof outside my room. Once, when I crawled back through her window, she wasn’t home yet, and I didn’t hear her steps on the roof until an hour later. One day at school, I ran into her in the bathroom. She was putting on mascara in the mirror, and her eyes were red-rimmed, her face splotchy, like she’d been crying.
I waited until some other girls left the bathroom, then said, “What’s wrong?”
“None of your business.” She threw her mascara in her purse and pushed past me.
After that, I didn’t ask again.