Part 15 (2/2)

”Did I tell you how she pretended to be poor and made me give her five bucks?” I ask.

”I did not make you,” she says and glares at me then looks at Jake. ”I got caught eating popcorn at work. It was the first excuse that came to mind. I felt really bad about it. She made me take her five dollars.”

I barely resist the urge to tease her some more.

”I only got the job at Tinkerpark to make new friends. I was homeschooled for a long time.”

”Yeah. People probably don't get you,” Jake says. ”That happens to me all the time.”

I look back and forth between them and then glance at Mom.

Her eyebrows are raised and she's trying to cover her amused smile with her hand.

Miraculously, Amy doesn't say anything- but she's beaming.

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sixteenthings.indd 96 9/9/13 2:21 PM.

1 6 t h i n g s i t h o u g h t w e r e t r u e Jake glances at her. ”So, um, text me. When you get there. Let me know how you're doing. Um. How Morgan is doing. You know, so we don't have to rack up her phone bill.” I open my mouth then close it and put down my gym bag to slide on my laceless sneakers.

”Be careful, Morgan, okay? Don't let this guy hurt you.” Jake reaches for my bag. ”I'll carry it to Amy's car for you,” he says.

”It's okay.” I shake my head and take the bag from him. This guy is my dad, after all. I open the door and wait for Amy to follow me.

”Okay. I'll see you in a few days,” I say to my mom without look- ing at her.

”Morgan...” Her voice is hoa.r.s.e. I look at her, and her lips are pressed tight and her hand rubs her chin. ”Whatever happens, what- ever you find out...just remember that I love you.” She blinks quickly.

I walk outside and Amy follows me. Jake slips on shoes and walks behind us, and the two of them gab all the way down the sidewalk to the street where Amy's car is parked. I glance up at the sky. Black clouds are swirling in the air and it's cool. Amy pops the trunk, and I throw my stuff in and walk to the pa.s.senger door. I'm about to jump in the car when the front door of the house opens and Mom runs outside. Her robe pops open and she grabs it and wraps it around her.

”Morgan?” she yells. Loudly.

I glance around to see if any neighbors are outside. Mrs. Phillips next door will have a great time with this. She thinks my mom is crazy already. She's mostly right.

Mom sniffles loudly. ”I'm sorry,” she cries. She drags a hand under her nose, clings to her bathrobe with the other, and bats her

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sixteenthings.indd 97 9/9/13 2:21 PM.

J a n e t G u r t l e r eyes, her mouth quivering. There's an instant ache in my chest. It was already there, but it's bigger now and it hurts my lungs. I inhale deeply as if I'm hollowed out.

”I'm sorry,” she repeats.

The words slice through the wind and cut into me like the cold in the air. I want to yell and ask why she's sorry now, eighteen years later, but I lift my hand in the air, wave, and then open the car door.

Jake steps closer. ”Don't worry, Chaps. She'll be fine. I'll take care of her.” I get in the pa.s.senger side, and he walks around and opens the driver's door for Amy, holding it while she climbs inside. And then he steps back to the sidewalk, watching while Amy fires up the car. I wonder who is going to take care of me. And isn't that the point?

”Oh my G.o.d,” I say as she checks over her shoulder for cars and pulls out. Jake is standing on the sidewalk, waving, and my mom appears to be freaking out and trying to run after the car. Jake is holding her back. ”What the h.e.l.l is wrong with my family?”

Amy lifts her hand to wave as she pulls away and toots her horn.

”Nothing at all,” she says. ”They're awesome.”

I close my eyes and try to let my mom's distress go. I don't want to take it with me. It is not mine to own. Not now.

Amy reaches across the console and pats my leg. ”Don't worry.

You're going to be fine. I had a dream.” I stare at her to see if she's joking, and she giggles. ”Chaps,” she says. ”You brother calls you Chaps?”

I start to laugh. She's sitting on a cus.h.i.+on to make her taller. It cracks me up.

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sixteenthings.indd 98 9/9/13 2:21 PM.

1 6 t h i n g s i t h o u g h t w e r e t r u e Adam lives in the newest suburban area on the outskirts of town.

Amy's got the address programmed into her GPS, and we find it without any trouble. As soon as we pull in front of a brown and black house nearly identical to all the others on the street, Adam comes running out the front door and up the drive. He's wearing black jeans with a plain white T- s.h.i.+rt and a green plaid s.h.i.+rt flapping open. His hair looks kind of frantic, sticking up in all sorts of directions.

”He's cute,” Amy says as we watch him run to the car. I silently agree. ”Like a nerdy band guy,” she says.

”He looks like a young doctor,” I say.

She tilts her head, watching him out the window. ”Maybe a mad scientist.”

He reaches the car and Amy pops the hatch, and he dumps in a small black bag, closes it, and then crawls into the backseat. He slides into the car. ”Drive,” he yells to Amy with a trace of panic in his voice.

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