Speed of Life (13 page)

“I am,” I say automatically.

“How come you're not wearing your uniform?”

Crap. “Oh, yeah. I guess I . . . I was late and I wasn't thinking.”

She smiles. “I ironed it for you so you could sleep in.”

I have no choice but to thank her and change into the shirt and pants. When I get to the college, I'm red-faced from running through the parking lot, and I'm wearing a gas station attendant uniform and clunky steel-toed boots. All the other kids are in sweats or jeans, with one or two in pajamas, and they all look at me like I'm from Mars.

“Well, at least the name on your shirt matches your ID,” says the guy who's checking me in.

I look down at my uniform. “Yeah.”

Whatever.

As soon as I finish, I know I blew it. I try to tell myself everyone feels that way, but I'm more bummed about it than I expected. What the hell was I thinking? I've wasted a bunch of our money on something stupid that's never gonna happen. The only good thing is that I didn't tell Amber about the new plan.

I want to give up, but David won't let me. For the next three weeks, my schedule is packed with work, school, Natalie, and lies. Me and David continue to meet every Tuesday night to go over application stuff—​including writing a letter of recommendation in Jimmy's name; I figure if he's willing to sign it, I might as well have it in my file—​and I let Amber think it's something romantic, proving once again what a lousy person I am.

One night I come home cross-eyed after two hours of rewriting my essay with David. I'd gotten a B from my English teacher and I'd thought that was pretty good, but David ripped my paper to pieces and helped me put it back together. Now it's stellar, thanks to him.

“So?” Amber says, smirking when I walk in. “Your back seat or his?”

I force myself to smile and whack her on the shoulder. “Shut up.”

“Seriously, what's going on? I want details.”

“I told you it's not really like that . . .”

“But you like him?”

Oh, God. I sigh. This is one lie I can't keep up anymore. “Amber, we're just car buddies. He's way out of my league.”

She puts her hands on my shoulders and looks me right in the eyes. “Don't ever say that, Crystal. No one's out of your league. Especially some stuck-up rich boy.”

“Sorry.”

She thinks I mean I'm sorry because I don't believe in myself, but it's more than that. I'm sorry for going behind her back, for spending our money, for the hours she's taking care of Natalie and I'm not doing my share. And I'm also sorry because the idea that I'm doing this for our future might be the biggest lie of all. Yeah, it would help us, but honestly, I'm applying to the college because I can't imagine not doing it anymore. And thanks to David and all his encouragement and help, I can see myself at McPherson. Part of me thinks I'll crack in two if I don't get in, but I also think even if I do get accepted, I won't be able to go, so I'm wasting my time. Plus, by then I'll probably have an ulcer from all the lying. My stomach hurts every day, and I've lost about five pounds.

And yet I'm still meeting David at the Coffee Klatch every week. It's this fancy place in northeast Portland where most of the drinks are about five bucks each. David has paid every time, and I'm such a loser, I let him. I offered to buy them once, but he waved me off, knowing I can't drop ten bucks every time we meet.

Tonight David shuts his laptop and looks across the table, giving me a big smile. “You know,” he says, “you're really lucky. You should get a great financial aid package.”

“You mean because I'm so poor?”

His face turns pink. “Uh . . . I didn't mean—”

“I'm teasing you. It's okay. I know I'm broke.”

“I meant because your sister's done you a big favor on your taxes. It should pay off.”

Amber loves forms almost as much as she loves numbers. She fills out surveys that come in the mail, questionnaires on the bus, and takes every quiz she can find in magazines. The year we turned sixteen, Jimmy gave me a real job instead of the under-the-table work I'd been doing for him in the shop, and Amber's been filing my taxes for me ever since. She's freakishly excited about that kind of stuff.

She does Mom and Gil's return every year too, which, according to David, is why I'm probably going to get a bunch of money for school. Since Amber took over, she hasn't let them claim the two of us as dependents because they don't pay for shit for us. I know Amber didn't help me on purpose, but now when the financial aid people look at my income, they're going to see a very poor, independent adult instead of a teenager depending on her parents for everything. I could kiss Amber! Except I can't tell her what a favor she's done for me. At least not yet.

David stands up and stretches. “So until we get your SAT scores, that's about all we can do.” His shirt lifts a little, and I see that blond trail of hair going down into the waist of his pants. I would never, ever try to hook up with someone like him, but I can't help checking him out when he does shit like that. And I'm not the only one. A couple of girls on a couch by the fake fireplace are eyeing him over their lattes too.

“My scores should be online tomorrow,” I tell him. I grab Natalie's carrier from under the table where I stashed her. She's been asleep the whole time, which is surprising, since it's so noisy in here. God, she's beautiful when she's asleep. Her little red curls and feathery eyelashes make my heart surge with affection. Moments like these help me remember I'm not just being selfish—​I'm doing this whole Kansas thing for us, for the three of us. And if I have to tell a few lies to make it happen, well, that's how it is.

“Do you work tomorrow night?” David asks as we walk out to our cars.

“Yep.”

“Okay. See you then. And you better have gotten a perfect score,” he says.

“Yeah, right.”

He waits while I buckle in Natalie, and then he gives me a hug. I'm totally thrown for a second, but I try not to show it. “Good night, ladies,” he says.

“Night.”

The next morning, I tell myself there's no chance of getting decent enough scores to get into McPherson, but the past few weeks have still made me hopeful. I leave Amber sleeping and take Natalie to daycare as soon as the school is open, and then I hit the computer lab. I sign in to the account I've created, and there are my SAT scores. At first I think it's a huge mistake, because I didn't do that bad. I got 510 on math, 502 on reading, and 498 on writing. That gives me a cumulative score of 1510. Completely average. Well, that's a relief. I mean, these scores should be high enough to get me into McPherson. I'm still not sure how I did so well, though. I definitely felt like shit after I took the test.

But my name is there, right above the scores. And I guess, in a way, it doesn't really matter what I thought before. If that's what the computer says, then that's what I got, right? By the time I get to Ms. Spellerman's office, I'm already worried I should've done better on the math. But if I'm honest, I'm probably lucky I did that well, since Amber usually does my math homework. The guidance office secretary's not around, so I knock on Ms. Spellerman's door. She calls out for me to come in, and I tell her my news.

“Good job,” she says.

I can tell she has no idea who I am, but I don't care. I'm here for a specific reason. “I was wondering,” I say. “When I send in my application to McPherson, can I use the school's address instead of my own?”

Ms. Spellerman looks puzzled for a second, and then she nods and smiles. “I don't see why not. Are you moving?”

“Maybe.” I'm not going to tell her the truth. I don't want Mom or Amber to see the admissions letter before I do. “Should I put your name on it too?”

“Probably. ‘In care of J. Spellerman' should do the job. I'll call you into my office when it comes.”

“Great—​thanks.”

“Oh, and Miss . . .”

I knew it.

“Robbins,” I prompt.

“Right. Miss Robbins. You are aware McPherson's a private school, right? I mean, you could stay in state and pay a lot less. Have you thought about that?”

She obviously doesn't remember that McPherson was her idea. “I don't want to go anywhere else. It's the car thing,” I remind her.

“Car?”

“Antique automotive restoration?”

Something clicks into place. “Oh, of course. Okay, well, good luck.”

“Thanks.”

As I head to my first class I can't help feeling kind of shiny and proud. Too bad there isn't anyone to tell except David. If I have time, I'll email him at lunch.

After school, Mei-Zhen is waiting for me and Amber next to Nat's crib. She gets right to the point. “Your baby needs a winter coat.”

“Yeah,” I say. “We know . . . She grew out of the one we have.”

Mei-Zhen crosses her arms. “You have to replace it.”

“We were gonna do that today, right, Crys?” Amber says.

We'd actually planned to go home and take naps before work, but if there's one thing having a baby has taught us, it's that she always comes first.

“Yeah,” I say. “We're going to Walmart right now.”

“I expect to see her wearing a coat tomorrow,” Mei-Zhen says.

“You will,” Amber tells her.

Mei-Zhen stands over us, watching while we struggle to layer the three sweaters on top of Natalie's overalls, which we've been doing for the past two weeks. The baby wiggles and whines while we yank and pull, and it takes both of us to get it done. A coat would definitely be easier. We had one from Jade, but Nat grew out of it. She's growing so fast, it's like she's on steroids.

Amber buttons up the top sweater, and Nat's arms stick out to the sides. “You see,” Mei-Zhen says. “Even if she's warm enough, she's not comfortable.”

I want to point out that Nat's smiling at us, so she can't be that miserable, but Amber can tell I'm about to give Mei-Zhen an earful and she drags me off to the parking lot.

“We're not really going to Walmart, are we?” Amber asks once we're in the car.

“Nope. Goodwill.” It's sad to think that even Walmart's out of our budget, but Natalie grows so fast that it's true.

Twenty minutes later we've got her in a cart and we're wheeling it through the baby aisle. There isn't much to choose from in her size, though. “Maybe we should get it big?” Amber holds up a pink and purple leopard-print parka.

I laugh because it's for a two-year-old. “She'd have room to grow, that's for sure.”

Amber hangs it back up. “Mei-Zhen would probably report us for trying to suffocate her.”

“No doubt.”

We find an ugly boy's coat in the right size for six bucks. “Seriously?” Amber says.

“I don't see anything else.” We take off Natalie's extra sweaters and try it on her. “It fits. What do you think?”

“Yeah, okay.”

We're both bummed that our baby can't have the best of everything, or even something decent, but Nat's still grinning and bubbly—​she doesn't care. And the coat does have fake fur around the hood, so it's probably extra warm. Because we deposit almost every bit of money we get into the bank in order to keep it safe, I'm counting out some change from the bottom of my backpack when Amber tells me Shenice quit school.

“Really? I was wondering where she was.” Thinking back, I haven't seen her at lunch for at least a week. I'm only there every other day because of Natalie, though, and Shenice always misses a lot of school, so her absence hadn't even registered. “What's she gonna do?”

“They promoted her from cleaner to full-time stocker at the grocery store. Her mom's making her get her GED, but she's golden. Paid holidays, vacation, and you wouldn't believe her hourly wage.”

I can see where this is going, and I hand over the coins to the cashier before she's even rung up the coat. I want to get out of here before me and Amber have another fight about dropping out of high school.

“Here,” I say, lifting up Nat and giving her to Amber along with the keys. “Take her out to the car and I'll put the cart away.”

By the time I get outside, Amber's got Natalie in her car seat, but she's standing next to the Mustang like she's waiting for me. Crap. I was hoping we were done talking about Shenice.

“You know, Crys,” she says, “if Shenice had dropped out a couple of months ago, I would've wanted to quit school too.”

I wait a beat before saying, “But you don't now?”

She smiles at me, and it's funny—​I see so much of Natalie in her. “No. I'm not gonna drop out. And do you know why?”

“Why?”

“Because you and Aunt Ruby are right. We've made a plan, and we've got to stick to it. Exactly like we said we would. It's crazy, but when I heard Shenice quit, instead of wanting to do it too, I got kind of . . . I don't know . . .” She wipes at her eyes almost like she's crying. The wind is whipping around us, though, so I'm not sure. “This is stupid. Maybe it's my period making me all . . .”

“All what?” I ask.

“Emotional, I guess. It's just that instead of wishing I could quit too, I feel so grateful to you.”

She's freaking me out a little, acting all sensitive like this, and I'm getting uncomfortably hot in my denim jacket even though it's freezing out here. “Me? Why?”

“You're always looking out for me and Natalie. You work so hard at your job, you help me with my homework, and you made this great plan for us. I love you, Crystal. Thank you so much for keeping me on track. I never could've gotten this far without you.” And then she does something we don't really do in our family—​she throws her arms around me and hugs as hard as she can.