On the Loose (30 page)

“Chandler, Joey, and Ross are out again.” I step over one and head inside the house. Where I’m greeted by slow melodic violin strains piping from the surround sound speakers. Millie, in another new pair of fancy pajamas, sits cross-legged in the middle of the living room, eyes closed, hands resting on her knees.

James shuts the door and finds me staring at his wife. He shakes his head and rolls his eyes. “She’s meditating.”

I notice the dog flopped over beside her, and Millie opens one eye. “I’m just being quiet and still.” She closes her eye. “You should try it.”

“Oh, thanks,” I whisper. “But I think I’ll just go on up to my room.”

“It wasn’t a question. Sit down.”

James shakes his head and leaves me to
Señora
Serenity. I settle into the same position next to her on the floor.

“Why are we doing this?”

“Shhhhh. Are your eyes closed?”

“Well, Millie, since your eyes aren’t open, I could say yes here, and it really wouldn’t—”

“Shut them.”

I snap them closed.

“Stress makes people unhealthy. Did you know that, Katie?”

I believe it. I totally feel sick now, maxed out on my share of stress.

We sit through five more violin concertos. Millie breathes in and out like she’s being graded on volume, and I’m so busy trying hard not to laugh, I am nowhere near relaxed. Plus, it’s hard to be all at peace when you’re suspended.

She slowly rises from the hardwood floor. “Come on, I’ll fix you something special for lunch.”

I join my foster mom in the kitchen. After James hands Millie a skillet and a few other items, he sits at the bar drinking coffee. We discuss the day, and I fill them in on my recent encounters with Angel.

Millie throws some stuff I don’t recognize in a frying pan. I hope that’s not the main course.

James puts his mug down. “Why didn’t you tell us Angel had gotten aggressive with you in PE?”

I shrug. “I dunno. I didn’t want to upset you guys. I thought you had enough to deal with.”

Millie slices into an onion. “Is there anything else we need to know?”

Oh, like I lied to Maxine and told her I was working on my science fair project, but actually I was going to a party without your permission? Or that there was underage drinking at this event? Or that my foster grandmother showed up and busted the party in her Sponge Bob house shoes? Oh, and PS, I’m the laughingstock of the school.

“Nope. Can’t think of a thing.”

We talk more over an appetizer of cheese and crackers in the breakfast nook.

“All right. Lunch is served.”

Millie plops a burger on my plate. I pick a sesame seed off the top of the bun and pop it in my mouth. “Can I have some mayo?”

My foster mom shakes her head. “No more mayonnaise for us. I threw it out. You won’t even miss it.”

“Well, a burger sounds good. Should hit the spot after the morning I’ve had.” I open wide and sink my teeth in.

And promptly spit it out.

“Ugh. What
is
this?” I chug down some water. “That’s no hamburger.”

James lifts his bun and inspects the contents.

“I didn’t say it was a hamburger. It’s a tofu burger.” Millie tears into hers. “Things are gonna change around here. We’re gonna get healthy.”

James pushes his plate away. “Or die trying.”

“I have an idea.”

“Does it involve more tofu?” Because these new ideas of Millie’s are
not
working for me.

Millie’s eyes sparkle. “It involves shopping.”

“Shopping?”
So
much better than meat substitutes.

“You mentioned the spring dance the other day. James can take us to the mall. You’re going to need a formal. What do you say?”

I say I totally don’t deserve a new dress! I’m a rule-breaking, deceitful loser.

“I can see you in something full-length. A soft pink to complement your strawberry-blonde hair.”

I’m the sludge on Spam. I’m the permanent ring in the school toilet bowls.

“Strapless? Maybe with a gauzy sash. Very old Hollywood.”

No. Must resist. “Are you up to it, Millie?” So weak . . .

“I can’t wait to find out. I think I’m good for a few hours.” She smiles then points to my plate. “Eat that burger and we’ll even get new shoes.”

I rip into it. “
Mmmm
.”

Though I’m suspended,
I decide to go to play rehearsal after shopping. It’s at the Valiant, so it’s not like I’m going to be on school property. Shopping was . . . heaven. I got the works—a fitted yet flowy dress, like something you’d have seen on the red carpet circa 1950. And these shoes that sparkle when they catch the light with a cool vintage heel. And when I tried them on, I felt like a princess.

James drops me off at the door, and I know he’ll probably hit the couch after his afternoon in the mall.

“Hi, Katie! How are ya?” Sam polishes the brass trim on the concession counter. His hat perches crooked on his head, and he wears his typical uniform of overalls.

“Hey, Sam.” I give him a quick hug. “Things are all right.” I mean, I guess things could be worse. Like I could be dead. “How’s it going with Maxine?”

“Hot date tonight.” He raises his eyebrows. “Gonna take her to Ida Mae’s House of Vittles and buy her the best chicken-fried steak in town.”

“Sounds very romantic.” I stare at the theater doors. “Well . . . I guess I better get in there.” Time to face Trevor Jackson.

With a heavy heart, I pull open the door and ease my way downstage.

“Hey, Sweet Pea.” Maxine’s voice stops me at row three.

I do a double take. “What are you doing here?” Maxine wears a powder pink tutu and a rhinestone crown.

“I got the part of the fairy godmother. Didn’t you hear?”

My eyes search for Trevor, and I locate him onstage, running lines with Sydney Mason, the girl who plays the prince’s mother. Has he seen Maxine? I stand in front of her, trying to shield my cast-mates from the sight of her.

“This isn’t a dress rehearsal!”

“I’m into character. I guess I’m more serious about this than you.”

“Yeah, seriously deranged.” I look her up and down, from her flouncy tulle tutu to her ballet slippers, criss-crossed on her white tights. “You look like Miss Havisham in toe shoes.” I jerk my head toward Trevor. “Do
not
say anything to him. Please?”

Maxine adjusts her sparkly crown. “What on earth would I have left to say to him?”

I nod slowly. “Good.” And I walk past her downstage.

“Especially since I’ve already had a nice, long chat with him just a few minutes ago.”

I turn around and pin Maxine with the meanest, maddest, baddest dirty look I’ve got. She waves her wand at me and cackles.

I take a seat on the front row next to Jeremy, my fellow ugly stepsister.

He smiles around a mouthful of braces. “Can you believe the play’s in less than three weeks? Today’s the last day we can use our scripts.”

I nod and mumble my agreement. But my focus is on Trevor. And the blonde onstage with him.

I nudge Jeremy. “Should a mother and son be that close? This isn’t incestuous Cinderella.”

“They’re just going over lines. Trevor’s a pro. I’ve seen him in dozens of plays.” He moves closer to me. “Are you jealous?”

“No, definitely not. I just want this show to be perfect, you know?”

Jeremy grins and shakes a finger in my face. “You’re jealous. Is there something going on between you and Jackson?”

If there was, it was killed the night Maxine broke out her bullhorn. “No. I guess we were talking for a while, but I’m pretty sure that’s as far as it’s gonna go.”

“Awww. Katie got her heart broken.” Jeremy pats me on the shoulder.

“No, I didn’t,” I snap. “We were just friends. No big deal.” I watch the blonde giggle and toss her hair. I thought I was different. That maybe he really liked me. Sure he has a total player past, but I could’ve changed all that.

At least I don’t have any scenes with him today. My goal is to get out of this practice without talking to him. Not that he
would
talk to me anyway. But he does still have my plant.

A few minutes later Chelsea shows up in all her designer denim glory. At the sight of Trevor onstage her eyes narrow. “Should he be that close to her?”

“Hi, Chelsea.” A blush spreads on Jeremy’s cheeks. “You look nice today.”

She spares him a glance. “Thanks. Hey, Katie, we missed you at school today. And I just want you to know, I will be keeping my purse with me at all times. So don’t get any ideas.” She clutches her Coach handbag and sashays off toward Mrs. Hall.

I turn to Jeremy, my eyes stinging. “See, I got accused of stealing these shoes, but I—”

“I know. Anyone who knows you doesn’t believe you did it.”

I sniff. “Thanks, Jeremy. That means a lot to me. Hey, you should come hang out with us at church sometime.” I swallow a gasp. Did I really just invite someone to church? What is
wrong
with me? God and I are
so
not getting along. I can’t invite people to church. They’ll think I’m . . . a believer. And I’ve got it together. Girls who get suspended definitely do not have it together.

“Yeah, I might try that. Chelsea goes, too, right? To your church, I mean.”

Oh, boys are sooo stupid. Number one, she’s totally out of his league. And number two, his league is so much better than hers. That girl is a witch. Had she gotten the part of the evil stepmother, there would be zero acting necessary.

“Yeah, she goes sometimes.” It’s my turn to pat his arm. “As do a lot of other girls from In Between.” Girls with personalities.
Girls who won’t squash you like a bug between their French manicured fingernails
. Oh, well, the invitation is already out. No sense in taking it back. “Just think about it and let me know. We meet this Wednesday night.”
And if you have any Jesus questions, you’ll have to ask Frances because I sure don’t know the answers.

“I can’t this Wednesday.” Jeremy’s face falls. “Our house got pretty messed up last month in the tornado. We’re moving from our grandma’s place into a shelter.”

The shock and pity registers on my face before I can catch it.

“No, it’s okay. We were renting the house that got trashed, and the owner isn’t gonna rebuild. But we lost almost everything. It’s just gonna take a while for my mom to regroup.” He pulls his mouth into a smile. “Maybe a week or two. No big deal. We actors love our drama, right?”

“Right.” But it’s not. It’s so wrong. All this time I hadn’t thought about the fact I actually go to school with people whose homes were damaged or destroyed in the tornado. I’ve gotten so caught up in my new life of comfort and security. But I know what it’s like to have nothing, to not have a place to call your own.

Okay, God. I’ll go on the spring break mission campout. But it’s for Jeremy. Not for me . . . . and not for you.

At four o’clock rehearsal begins. Chelsea does her opening scene alone, then Jeremy and I enter for scene two.

We sisters trade insults and jabs at the lowly Cinderella. Though it’s all in the script, I hurl my venom at Chelsea like it’s straight from my own heart. And it feels awesome. I especially love the part where I get to step on her toe.

“Ow!” Chelsea rubs her foot. “That was too hard,” she growls.

I smile. “Just following the script.”

Thirty minutes later we begin the ball scene. While Cinderella glides across the stage in her prince’s arms, her two ugly stepsisters stand with their mother in a corner. My script says I am to glare.

Mrs. Hall calls from below. “Excellent facial expression, Katie! We can feel your anger. Very real.”

Mid-waltz a Beyoncé song blasts from Cheslea’s pocket. “Oh, gotta get that. Hello?”

With a collective groan from the cast, practice screeches to a stop.

“Chelsea, get off the phone. You know the rules—no phones during rehearsals.”

Mrs. Hall charges onstage.

Cindrella holds up a hand. “This is important. I have to take this call.” And she exits stage left.

Our teacher looks around and her eyes connect with mine. “Katie—” She holds out a script. “Read for Chelsea until she gets back. Take it from the top of the waltz. Miss Parker, I do mean now. Don’t just stand there.”

Gulp.

On heavy legs, I move from the back of the crowd to the front. Next to Trevor. From my peripheral vision I see him hold out his arms.

“You’re gonna have to look at me if we’re going to waltz.”

My head shoots up, and I’m greeted with his knowing, wry grin. My brain shifts into overdrive, desperate to analyze his expression. Is he laughing at me? Is he being kind? Is all forgiven?

I lay my right hand in his and settle my left on his shoulder.

Mrs. Hall consults with another cast member, and I take advantage of the moment. “I just wanted to say I’m really sorry for Friday night. I had no idea that was going to happen.”

He nods, and I watch his dark hair move over his forehead. “Could’ve been a better night. I had big plans for us.”

I blink. “You did?”

“Maybe another time.”

Wait, I want to cry. What does that mean? Tell me!

“Sorry people at school are all over you. I’ll see what I can do about that.”

I nod. “Thanks. That’d be nice.”

The music starts and he lures me into a waltz.

“Chelsea’s boyfriend got pretty bent out of shape over it.”

My feet stumble and Trevor pulls me in tighter. “Yeah, I guess. Don’t worry about it though.”

He laughs. “I’m not worried about him at all.”

Trevor twirls me around and draws me back. I was so close. This strong, tall, hulking piece of yum could’ve been mine.

“I still have your plant, you know. With the science fair coming up, I think you’re gonna need that.”

“Oh, yeah. My plant.” I hope no one drowned him in Bud Light. “Maybe you could bring him to school tomorrow?”

“Or you could come and get it.”

Trevor delivers his next few lines as we dance. Clutching the script with my hand on his shoulder, I read for Chelsea. This so should’ve been my part. I was robbed.