“I wish I was,” I answer. Though once the words are out of my mouth, I’m not so sure I believe them. It’s the first bit of action and excitement I’ve felt in…ever.
I finger the medications again, picking up a bottle of cipro. I thought the invitation wasn’t real, but it was. And these don’t look fake….Would it be so bad to keep them?
Mom would notice if unlabeled bottles of pills showed up, and that would lead to questions I can’t answer, but I can hide these and sneak a handful into each bottle at the end of every other week. Maybe then she wouldn’t notice that we’re not going through them as quickly as usual. It would save her tons of money. Money we desperately need.
A hundred thousand dollars. If I won, we’d be free. I’d never have to walk into the kitchen to find Mom crying over a pile of bills. I’d never have to feel the gut punch of guilt when I find her clipping coupons late into the night.
“Show it to me,” Jenny says.
I instantly know what she’s talking about. I reach into my purse and retrieve the money and the pin. She flips through the stack of bills and examines the pin in the fluorescent light pouring through my window. Her eyes finally meet mine.
“Wow,” she breathes. “This is so amazing!”
“Amazing?” I repeat with hypocritical disbelief; moments ago I was thinking the same thing. “It’s dangerous. Don’t forget that someone broke into our house and knows exactly which medications I take.”
“Okay, but they’re like fairy godmothers, don’t you think? Did anyone smash a window? Hurt us? Steal anything? No, they came in quietly and gave us something we really need.”
In a strange way she’s right, but I’m still uneasy. “Okay, but how the hell did they get in here without you or Mom seeing them?”
Jenny gives me a head shake, then reaches over and slides my window open. “For someone so smart, you can be pretty stupid. You never lock this thing.”
I shudder, imagining someone climbing in through my window. We’re two floors up, but there are plenty of handholds they might have used to get up here.
“They could have come in through the front door too. Did you lock it on your way out?”
“I couldn’t,” I answer. “You know how loud that bolt is.”
“Well, there you go.”
I rake my hair back. I can’t believe I left my family vulnerable like that. Of course, I had no idea anyone was going to sneak in while I was sneaking out….
“All right, don’t panic,” Jenny says. “This isn’t one of your horror movies. It’s just a game.”
It’s scary how trusting she is. I scrub my hands down my face.
Jenny pats my knee the same way Mom might. “Try to relax, okay? I think this is supposed to be fun.”
With that she climbs off the bed. As she leaves the room I have to wonder what sort of fun thirteen-year-olds are having these days.
My alarm clock blares to life. I smash the snooze button and gasp when the action makes a fiery ache burn up my arm. I must have pulled a muscle last night.
I have a headache too.
I drag a pillow over my face to block out the sunlight slanting in through my window. I can ignore the pain if I can just get back to sleep.
After everything that happened last night, I thought it would be impossible to fall asleep in my room, but I passed out almost as soon as my head hit the pillow. I don’t think I’ve been up that late since I was twelve and Mom let me stay up past my bedtime for Aunt Deirdre’s wedding.
I start to nod off again when I distantly hear a knocking at my door. A moment later Mom bursts into my room. “Time to get up.”
“Sleeping,” I mumble.
She yanks the pillow off my head. I groan and shield my eyes from the punishing sun.
“We need to talk.”
I’m suddenly wide-awake.
She knows. Jenny—I’m going to murder her.
My heart races as I push up in bed, fighting to keep the pain off my face.
It isn’t just my arm or my head. Everything hurts. My temples throb dully, my legs burn like I ran a decathlon, and my spine feels split in two. I can almost hear the sickening crack as my body hit the pavement falling off that fence. I’m going to need three Advils washed down with a few Tylenols just to take the edge off. And for what?
All of a sudden I feel so stupid—one mistake and I’ll never leave the house again. I’ll die in this apartment. A thousand excuses rush through my brain, but it’s no use. I’m never getting out of this one.
Mom sits on the end of my bed and folds her hands neatly in her lap.
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.”
I keep perfectly still. Just get it over with, please. Put me out of my misery.
She takes a deep breath. “And, well…I think you’re right. You can’t spend your whole life holed up in this apartment. I called the school, and you’re going back.”
“Wh-what?” I stutter.
“Starting today. I called Dr. Aguiar, and she thinks it’s fine.”
It’s so not what I was expecting that all I can feel is relief. And then it hits me what this means: I’m going to school. Today.