The Mardi Gras beads on Keri’s mirror sway hypnotically. I don’t notice where we’re going until we pull up to Coffee Depot. “My treat,” she says, smiling.
We order and find a seat on the deck, waiting for our drinks to cool. Autumn is finally making an appearance, with gray clouds hanging over the first of the yellow leaves. I try not to look at the lawn or think about who mowed its neat edges. Or why I ordered a drink I’ve never had before.
“Here’s the deal,” Keri says, folding her hands. “I know about you and Andrew.”
“What?” I yelp, with absolutely no attempt to play it cool. I literally cannot take one more thing today. Not one.
But she laughs. “It’s okay. I mean, it was kind of obvious when he tried to fight Carson. For the second time.”
“Keri,” I start, stalling for time. “It ended at Trent’s party. It wasn’t since you and I have been—or you and him have—”
She waves me off. “Me and him are nothing. We take test prep together, that’s all.”
I look up cautiously. “So you’re not mad.”
“No, I understand.” She twists her short black hair. “Does Matt know?”
“No,” I admit. “And there’s no reason for him to find out now.”
“He’d be really jealous,” Keri says. “That kid has loved you forever.”
I shake my head. “We’re just friends.” My fingers trace the mosaic in the tile tabletop. “To be honest, there was a time I wished we were more, but after all this? I really like knowing that at least one guy likes me for my brain and not my body.” I look up. “He’ll be mad we lied, but the jealousy will just be about us spending time without him.”
“Well, either way, I won’t tell him.” She holds her cup up for a toast. “God, boys are more trouble than they’re worth.”
We both drink to that.
*
The first time she gave me a ride, I made Keri drop me on campus and claimed I was meeting my mom. Today I don’t even have the energy to be embarrassed by my cracked driveway and peeling paint. “Can I use your bathroom?” she asks.
I can’t exactly say no. At the door, I get my keys out, but the door isn’t locked. “It’s right through there,” I say, flipping on the light.
Two very surprised and guilty faces freeze mid-make-out on the couch. “Raychel!” Mom yelps.
The guy beside her looks up. All I want to do is shove Keri out the door and slam it behind us. But she’s polite despite her shock. “Hi, Mrs. Sanders,” she says. “Hi, Eddie.”
I’m not dreaming. It is Eddie.
My mother is on top of the school janitor.
Keri squeezes my arm. “I can hold it. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Yeah. I’ll … um…”
“I’ll text you later,” she says.
I nod mutely, wishing I could go with her. Mom finds a less compromising position and clears her throat once Keri’s gone. “Ed,” she says, her voice fake and perky, “this is my daughter, Raychel.”
“We’ve met,” he says, and smiles. “I’m pretty popular up there.”
“Really?” She waits for me to nod. “Well…”
I stare at a spot over her head. “I think I’ll, uh … do some homework.” I rush to my room. Safest bet would be to sleep. Sleep means I don’t have to discuss this with her.
Because what the actual hell.
My mother and the janitor.
Don’t think about it. Get in bed. Never mind that it’s early. Emergency napping in progress. But the click of the front door tells me Eddie’s left, and a moment later, Mom knocks on my door. “Raychel?” She takes a seat on my bed. “So. You, um … you know Ed?”
“Everybody knows him.”
That makes her smile. “He’s a great guy. I wanted your first meeting to go … differently…”
“That’s who you’ve been with this whole time.” I sit up. “The janitor.”
She jerks as if she’s been slapped. It’s sort of satisfying. “What?”
“Eddie.” I shake my head. “This whole time, you just couldn’t bring yourself to tell me the truth.”
Mom straightens her back. “You think I’m embarrassed?”
I shrug.
“Because he does the same job I do?”
“That’s different,” I say, cringing. “I just—what happened to ‘do better’? ‘Make something of yourself’?”
She slaps me across the face.
Mom has never slapped me. Ever.
“Not all of us get the opportunities you will,” she hisses. “I don’t expect you to respect what I do, even if I do it for you. But Ed is a better person than your father ever thought about being.”
“I didn’t pick my father!” I yell as she storms out. “You did!”
She slams the door.
MATT
Dad’s voice carries up the stairs and through my open door. “Until the end of the semester!” he yells. “And maybe not even then!”
“You can have the car back when you demonstrate some maturity!” Mom adds.
When Andrew stomps up the stairs, I jump to close my door, but he barrels through it anyway. “Did you hear that shit?” he demands.
“That sucks.”
He’s not impressed by my sympathy. “And you get off free and clear, as usual.”
“Hey, I had your back,” I argue. “But I was trying to keep Raychel out of it.”
“No you weren’t,” he says. “I should have let her take a swing.”
“It might have helped,” I agree sarcastically. “She was pretty bitchy today.” I fake laugh. “Not that it’s different from any other day.”
Andrew stiffens. “Take it back.”
“Why? Because it’s true?”
“You’re supposed to be her best friend,” he says, his voice rising.
“What about you?” I yell back. “You haven’t even talked to her!”
“Boys!” Dad barks from the door. We jump.
“What the hell is the matter with you?” Mom asks from behind him.
Andrew runs a hand over his chest, watching me warily. “You haven’t even bothered to ask her what happened,” I say.
“I know what happened,” he snaps.
“Yeah? And you’re still treating her like trash? You’re an even bigger asshole than I thought, then.”
I can tell he’s confused. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Really? I don’t know that Carson forced himself on her? Twice?”
Andrew looks like I’ve kicked him in the stomach. But Mom gasps. “Matthew! You didn’t even tell him to call her?”
“What?” I jerk backward. “Why do I have to be his conscience?”
“You should have at least—”
“Mom,” Andrew interrupts, and I’ve never seen my brother look so shattered. “I know you just took them, but I need my car keys.”
She doesn’t say a word as she hands them over. He rushes out, and Dad shakes his head. “I’m disappointed in you, Matthew.”
“Raych didn’t want me to say anything!”
“You didn’t have to give him details to make clear that he should talk to her.”
I sit down, knowing he’s right, and wondering if I feel bad for being selfish, or just bad that someone noticed.
RAYCHEL
I grab my backpack from the living room and start shoving clothes into it. “What are you doing?” Mom demands.
“I’m packing. I’m not fucking staying here.” And I mean it. Not tonight, and not next year. I am not staying in this duplex and I’m not staying in this town. I’ll go somewhere else and get a job and a cheap apartment. Maybe I’ll go right now.