His expression grows serious and a crease forms between his brows. “I’m not going to let you quit right now, Addie. Let’s just wait until the doctor clears you, then we’ll see where we are and whatever you choose, I’ll respect your decision.”
My eyebrows lift automatically and the motion pulls on my stitches. “Corinne and the others will flip if I don’t show to practice for two weeks and you give me a spot in the pool.”
He props his shoulder against the doorframe, a cocky grin pulling at his lips.“Well, then…I guess you better show.”
I reach behind me and pull myself up to sit on the top bleacher before that smile knocks me on my ass. “Listen, I get what you’re trying to do. Really. And I appreciate it. But…” I lower my gaze, not wanting him to see me cringe as I say, “I’ve been thinking about getting a job after school.”
“Let me help.”
I lift my eyes and find a chagrinned look on Marcus’s face. “And what, exactly, is it that you think I need help with?”
His expression clears and he gives his head a small shake. “Just don’t quit until you have to, okay? Give me that much, at least.”
“So you want me to…what?” I flip my hand at the bleachers. “Just sit here while everyone else is practicing?”
He nods slowly. “If there’s something you can help with, I’ll let you know. Otherwise, you can work on homework or whatever.”
I should say no. I really do need to find a job. But the chances anyone’s going to hire me looking like this aren’t good. And the chances I’ll look anything close to normal before the doctor clears me for water polo also aren’t good. So I find myself nodding.
“Fine, I’ll wait to decide,” I say, “but don’t expect me to change my mind.”
The hint of a smile quirks one side of his mouth. “We’ll see.”
The walk home from school is peaceful…unlike what I’m afraid awaits me when I get there. Dad was asleep when I left this morning. I didn’t even tell him I was going back to school today. He’s been grumbling about suing the school and sending me to Summerlyn High instead.
But just as I’m rounding the corner, I see Aunt Becky’s car pull into the garage. And the driveway’s empty, so Dad’s out.
“Oh my God!” she cries as she jumps out and comes jogging toward me. “I called the house today to check on your dad and he told me you’d been in the hospital. I was in San Francisco so I came straight home.”
“You shouldn’t have. I’m fine,” I tell her, lowering my gaze as my heart cramps. Today her shoulder-length blond curls are twisted onto the top of her head, just like Mom used to wear hers.
She lifts my chin to inspect the damage. “What happened? Your dad was vague and kept muttering something about a pervert.”
I roll my eyes. “I fell at school and hit my head.”
“So…you weren’t attacked or…” She trails off and pulls me into a hug. “God, I was so worried.”
“You know Dad,” I say into her shoulder. “He’s delusional.”
She pulls back and looks me over again. “Come on,” she says, hooking her arm around my waist and tugging me toward the house.
“Are you staying?” I ask.
She nods as she pops the trunk of her car. “Just overnight, since it looks like everything’s okay.” She looks at me as she yanks her suitcase out. “Everything is okay, right?”
I nod.
She smiles and starts toward the door. “I’ve got appointments in San Jose tomorrow afternoon, but this gives me a chance to do some laundry.” She glances at the overgrown lawn on the way to the door. “Guess I’m going to have to keep Gary coming after all.”
I instantly feel guilty. Part of Dad’s arrangement with Aunt Becky when we moved in was that, in addition to going on as many job interviews as possible, he’d take care of the yard and do some of her basic maintenance to earn our keep. Other than the interview he almost missed the morning I hit my head, it hasn’t happened. If anything, he’s started drinking more. I’d intended to deal with the yard before Becky came home.
It’s only when we step into the empty house that Becky registers that the car is gone. “Your father’s out?”
“Looks like it,” I say, trying to make like me coming home to an empty house isn’t an everyday occurrence.
“On an interview?
“Maybe,” I say. For all I know, it’s true.
“Has he had many interviews?”
I give an optimistic nod. One of those bright-eyed small springy ones. “And he’s on that online job site looking a lot.”
Her lips purse as she watches me lie and I suddenly hate myself for never developing a poker face. “Have you eaten?” she asks after an endless minute.
“No,” I say, feeling guilty again that there’s nothing in the house to make.
“How about I treat you to dinner out?”
“Okay,” I say.
She takes a minute to freshen up, then we head to the car. There are a few choices in town for dinner, so it never occurs to me we’re going to Sam Hill until she pulls up to the curb in front.
“I’d rather go to Mindy’s,” I say, frozen in my seat as she starts to get out.