Breaking Rules (11 page)

“So when will
I be seeing you again, Mandy?” Gabe asked, walking me up to the house. His limp seemed to have gotten better since Saturday morning, but he still struggled a bit on the steps.

“I don’t know,” I said, turning back to him at the door. “You seem to have a habit of popping up unexpectedly. I guess I should be asking you when
I’m
going to be seeing
you
again? Plan on jumping out in front of my car anytime soon?”

“I didn’t jump out in front of your car
.”

“And I wasn’t texting,” I admitted for the first time.
“I just wasn’t paying attention.”

“I was
inspecting the front gates,” he said, finally giving me the answer I never thought I’d get. At least I could rest easily knowing that we were both a little reckless and irresponsible. “Okay then. I suppose I’ll see you on Thursday at the soup kitchen kick-off.”

“Sounds good.”

Standing there, neither of us really sure how to part, I simply stuck my hand out to shake his. Gabe’s eyes trailed down to look at my outstretched hand. For a moment, I thought he was going to leave me hanging, but he eventually lifted his hand and took mine. He simply held it that way for a few seconds, never shaking it, the way he had once done before on Saturday. His fingers only tightened against mine with a gentle squeeze, something that was so simple but felt so warm and tender.

“Thursday,” I said quietly, and then he nodded.

“Thursday.”

Nine

Neither Bailey nor my father had been home when I arrived.
Dad left a note on the kitchen counter that said he was headed out for a while and would be home by seven, but he didn’t bother leaving any specifics.

It wasn
’t until seven that Bailey had strolled through the door and slammed it shut behind her. I distinctly heard her throw her purse into her bedroom, and I could make out each of her steps as she walked to the end of the hallway to my open door.

“Hey, where’s Dad?” She leaned at the door frame, tapping her foot. “Hello?”

I looked at her once and then back down to the pamphlet
. I didn’t want to talk to her. After the way she treated me at school that morning, I couldn’t imagine that Bailey and I had anything left to say to one another.

“Ah, come on, you’re not still mad at me, are you?”

I
rested on my stomach, reading over the information packet I’d gotten from Lashell at the assembly last Friday. After the little back-and-forth joking I’d done with Gabe over the fact that I hadn’t yet read up on the program, I thought it was about time I took a few minutes to do just that. After all, it probably wouldn’t hurt to know a
little
background information for my article. And if I learned a little about Gabe in the process, then I guess that was okay, too. Again, I needed to know as much as possible for the article.
Rule # 8: Always be prepared.

“Mandy, are you going to answer me or not?”

I kept my head low as I pretended to read the information just under ‘Volunteer Code of Conduct.’

“
Mandy
,” she whined, and then she stamped her foot. One slow and timid step at a time, she finally made her way to my bed and sat down. “Please look at me. Please?”

I did as she asked, but I quickly found myself wishing that I hadn’t
. Bailey had twisted her face into the most pitiful expression, one that looked far too pathetic and forced. And although I knew she was only faking her puppy dog pout, I couldn’t stay angry. I looked at her pouted lip, and I couldn’t see anything but a reflection of myself. How could I be mad at my own sad face?

“Whatcha readin’?” she asked, settling in next to me. She took the book
let out from underneath me and flipped through a few pages. She studied the front matter, read a quick ‘welcome’ paragraph, and then she slid it back to me. “I thought this was just some lame attempt to win some money, but you’ve really gotten into this whole program thingy, huh?”

I twisted my lips and looked over at her, savoring that moment for as long as I could. For a brief second, I almost thought I
’d gotten my sister back. She was quiet, intuitive. She was taking the time to ask me about something that mattered to me, and that was something she hadn’t done in a very long time. She was showing the side of herself I hadn’t seen in months, the side that I’d so long hoped to get back.

“Yeah,” I said, sitting up. I folded my feet beneath my legs and picked up the booklet once more.
“I’m glad I decided to do it.”

Bailey remained quiet for a few seconds, and then she stared down at her hands and avoided my gaze.

“Listen, I’m really sorry about what happened at school this morning,” she said, and her voice cracked under pressure. It was the first apology I could recall hearing from her in years, and I knew even saying that much had been difficult for her. “Sometimes I get caught up in the heat of the moment and say things I don’t really mean.”

I nodded once, but didn
’t say anything.

“I know I hurt you, and I just… I don’t want you to be mad at me,” she said. “I feel like you’re mad
.”

“I’m not mad,” I said. “I’m just… I don’t know, Bailey
; I’m hurt. Sometimes I don’t think you realize how deep your words can cut.”

“
I’m sorry,” she said again, and I knew better than to press it any further. Two apologies from Bailey, no matter how small, carried a lot more weight than one grand apology from any normal person.

“It’s okay,” I said, and she b
reathed a sigh of relief. “Just try to be a little more sensitive from now on, okay? I’m not you. I can’t just let comments roll off my shoulders.”

Again, she nodded.

“So you’ve made some new friends through this RI thing?” she asked, trying as hard as she could to stay open to the idea.

“
I guess,” I said, not entirely sure that I could call them ‘friends.’ “There’s Carla and Fletcher, Lashell… Gabe.”

“
The
Gabe?” she asked, crinkling her nose. “Loser-Gabe?”

“See that’s the kind of stuff you can’t say,” I said, pointing a finger at her
. She laughed. “You’re being insensitive again.”

“I’m only teasing.”

“Right.” I guessed I would just have to accept that, no matter how much she tried, Bailey would still take a jab wherever she could get one in.

“So, any idea when Dad plans to come home?” she asked, looking over her shoulder. “He hasn’t been around much lately
.”

“He should’ve been here by now, at least according to the note he left on the counter. I wouldn’t worry too much, though.
He’s got a lot coming up; you know how he gets when there’s a lot of pressure mounting. He’ll come around.”

“Yeah,” she said
, but she didn’t seem to be listening to a single word I said. “But did he say where he was?”

“No. He left a note, only said that he’d be back by seven.”

“Right,” she said, and then she clicked her tongue a few times. “Can I tell you something?”

“Sure.
” She leaned close, and her voice dropped into a low whisper. “I think he’s only staying away because he’s avoiding us.”

“Meaning?”

“I think he’s going to quit.”

“
What?
What do you mean you think he’s going to quit? He spends every waking moment at the office!”

“Or does he?” she asked. “When has he ever specifically said he’s at the office? He always says he’s
working—”

“On his projects
—”

“Think about it, Mandy,” she said. “When’s the last time he’s ever mentioned
anything specifically?”

I tried to remember, but she was right. There hadn
’t been a single mention of his work, the office, or his mayoral responsibilities in a long, long time. I couldn’t remember the last time he’d ever given us any kind of specifics; he’d started giving us some pretty lame excuses, but I hadn’t really taken the time to notice.

Was he crumbling under pressure? Had something happened?
It didn’t seem out of character for Dad to give up when things got hard, but he wouldn’t break a promise to Sugar Creek the way he’d broken his promises to us. Would he?

“You’re right,” I said, shaking my head. Bailey nodded as if she hadn’t doubted that fact for a second. “He’s been very vague. I can’t believe I
didn’t notice.”

“Mmm-hmm,” she said, pursing her lips. “I think I know exactly what’s going on.”

“And?”

“I overheard him on the phone last week talking with Ripken
.”

“Okay?”

“Think about it, Mandy,” she said, taking a serious tone. “Ripken. When is the
only
time you’ve ever heard him use that name?”

“Oh no,” I said, cupping my hands over my mouth when the realization hit me square in the face. Harrison Ripken was my father’s agent back in the day, back when he was hot stuff out in LA. “You don’t think he’s
—”

“I do,” she said. “I heard him tell Ripken that it’s a
‘flattering offer,’ but he needs to take some time to figure out whether or not it’s the most viable situation for our family right now.”

“He’s thinking of leaving?”

“I’d almost bet my life he is.”

“No,” I said, feeling my heavy heart sink further into my chest. “He’ll do it, won’t he? He’ll take the job and move us back to California.”

“Not if I have anything to do with it,” she said, sitting straighter. “Sure, I want to end up in LA eventually, but this girl has plans. Everything has to happen according to those plans. First, Homecoming queen. Then prom queen, graduation, and summer.
Then
California. He’s not messing this up for me.”

I barely heard a word she said after that. She just kept talking, kept going on and on about all of
the things she’d be missing if Dad accepted a role in LA, but I couldn’t make sense of anything; between her jabbering and the chaos swirling through my brain, nothing made sense.

And the most confusing part of all was that the moment the thought of leaving struck me, I
didn’t think of my responsibilities at school, my perfectly mapped-out future at Desden University, or what it would be like to start over again at eighteen. It wasn’t even that I thought about Gabe or the Raddick Initiative.

S
ure, those thoughts occurred to me eventually. But not right off the bat.

She
came to mind.
She
was California to me, and I hated California.

You want to give me an ultimatum, Jim?
Great.

I closed my eyes when Mom’s voice cut through me, an eerie reminder of what we left behind. There hadn’t been a single day in four years that I hadn’t heard her voice. Her words, her screaming, her pleas for freedom, they were etched in my brain since the moment I walked in on their fight.

I choose the show. I made that show what it is, and I won’t walk away from it now.

I
shuddered, hating how fresh the wounds were even after all the time and distance.

Go ahead! Leave. B
ut you’re out of your damn mind if you think you’re going without those girls. I never wanted this life. You knew that when we met. I wasn’t cut out to be someone’s wife, and I sure as hell wasn’t meant to be someone’s Mom.

I swallowed hard.

I had no doubt that our mother would want to see us about as much as we’d want to see her.

There
was no mystery why I didn’t want to leave. Sugar Creek had become my escape from that life, and I couldn’t go back. Not now. I was finally starting to like things just the way they were—with Gabe, Bailey, the Raddick Initiative, and without Mom.

Moving to LA meant leaving a lot behind, but it also meant facing a part of my past
I never wanted to face again.

I needed to move forwa
rd because
backward
wasn’t an option. It just wasn’t.

Bailey
paced by the door, and she waited on our father to make his grand return home. When he didn’t show up (or even call) by eight, she gave up the pacing and went back to her own room to stew a little longer.

I wondered just how long Bailey had already been stewing on her own; if she
overheard Dad’s conversation with Ripken sometime last week, that meant she’d been holding on to her anger, her fears, and her worries all by herself. She might’ve confided in Jones somewhere along the line, so she wasn’t entirely alone, but I knew she wouldn’t say anything to her friends. That would be the one secret they wouldn’t keep. If the Queen Bee was about to take flight, the whole school would know. It would’ve gotten back to me in a matter of minutes.

I just wished she would’
ve said something sooner.

Why had she waited
to drop that bomb today of all days? Why had she let me sit there and talk about how much I liked the way things were going, only to turn around and rip it away from me in one fell swoop?

Bailey popped her head into my room and
declared that she couldn’t stand the silence any longer and she just
had
to get out of the house. Of course, I knew what that meant. She was headed out to see Jones. She never waited for my response before leaving, and that was probably for the best. I hadn’t been able to muster enough strength to pull my head up and look at her, let alone try to find the right words.