Part 16 (1/2)
I gazed down at the picture. The three of them stood together in front of the gates of the White House. They stood stiffly, smiling without showing their teeth, each parent with one hand on a much-younger Alexa's little shoulders.
I replaced the photo, let my eyes wander the room, and sighed. ”I still can't believe you live like this. It must be like waking up in a beautiful dream every morning.”
Alexa's finger trailed along the outline of a tile over and over, making the same square. ”Yeah, sure, we have money but there are drawbacks.”
”Like?”
”Impossibly high expectations. Stress. Inherited perfectionism.” Her finger stopped retracing the pattern. ”Sometimes I wonder. What if I didn't want to go to MIT? Or any college, for that matter. What if I loved art and I wanted to move to the city and live a bohemian, artsy lifestyle? I truly think my parents would never speak to me again.”
”Well, do you want to?”
She shook her head. ”No way. I hate art. I love numbers. I love to memorize them, manipulate them, play with them. I want MIT so bad I dream about it almost every night.”
”If you and your parents want the same things, then what's the problem?”
”It's the 'what if,' I guess. What if somewhere down the road, I do disappoint them?”
In my old school, I was smart. Not Alexa smart. But probably one of the top three smartest girls. Here, I was average and I knew it. But Dad and Marie never pressured me. I imagined for a moment what it must be like to be Alexa. To feel the weight of those expectations on your shoulders.
”Would they be mad if you didn't end up graduating valedictorian?”
”I don't have to worry about that,” she answered point-blank.
”Why not?”
”No one else is close enough to catch up with me now.”
The little hairs on my arms rose. Now. As opposed to then - when Kayla was alive.
”So Kayla was your only real compet.i.tor?” I asked innocently.
Alexa tensed and risked a quick glance at me before she returned her eyes to the tile. ”Yes. But she was a cheater.”
I rested my elbows on the counter and leaned forward. ”She cheated on tests?”
”Not every time. She was very smart and could do fine on her own. But sometimes she got too busy with soccer or parties or whatever. So she'd cheat now and then. Or she'd sabotage other people's -” Alexa stopped herself. ”I didn't like her very much.”
Here it was. All I had to do was push a little bit more. ”I heard that she gave you a nickname.”
Alexa's face closed down and she waved me off. ”I don't want to talk about her anymore. Let's go to the theater room.”
She picked up the bowl of grapes and started walking. I followed, knowing I'd reached a wall. What was beyond it, I didn't know yet, but I wasn't getting past it today.
I took Dad to the pizza joint Kane had suggested. It was actually a cute little Italian place that had more than just pizza. The smell of garlic wafted in the air, making me salivate. Each table had a plastic checkerboard tablecloth, a tiny vase with fake flowers, and a little metal spice rack that held crushed red pepper and Parmesan cheese.
Half the tables were empty, probably because it was Tuesday night. I could picture it packed on weekends. We were seated right away. I nearly tripped as we pa.s.sed a stack of wooden high chairs.
”I should have named you Grace,” Dad joked.
”Grandma should have named you Shrimp,” I shot back with a grin.
The waitress handed us laminated one-page menus, but I already knew what I wanted. A big heaping plate of spaghetti. My favorite comfort food. I ordered that and a soda. Dad ordered chicken parm and a light beer.
”We haven't done this for a while,” Dad said. ”I'm glad you still have time for your old man.”
”At least until I leave for college and never come home to visit again,” I joked. We slipped right back into our routine of teasing each other. I loved it. It made things feel normal.
The waitress arrived with our drinks. Dad refused the gla.s.s and took a sip from his bottle. ”How's school going?”
”Good. Some of the cla.s.ses are more challenging than back home, but it's okay.”
”The kids treating you well? Mom said you were at a friend's house this afternoon.”
I bristled when he referred to Marie as Mom. Dad noticed and looked down at his silverware. I didn't get mad, though. This was my hang-up, not his. And he was so used to calling her ”Mom” in front of Colby.
”Yeah,” I said. ”Her name's Alexa. She's the smartest kid in school. A little unusual. I like her.”
”I'm glad you've made a friend so quickly.”
If he only knew how many new ”friends” had been at his house last weekend. I was glad Mr. Tucker hadn't told on me, but part of me wished he had, because the guilt I felt was almost as bad.
”And how was your date the other night?” he said teasingly.
I spun my straw in the soda, making the ice cubes clink against the gla.s.s. ”Non-date, Dad. We're just friends.”
”So how was your non-date?” Dad wore a half-amused, half-concerned expression.
”It was fun. We're going to hang out again this weekend.”
He dropped the amus.e.m.e.nt. ”Another non-date or a real date?”
I paused. ”Non-date.”
”Because you know if it's a real date, I want that boy to have some manners and come in the house so I can meet him.”
”He wanted to come in the house last time, but I ran out to save him from the Daddy Inquisition.”
Dad threw his head back and laughed. ”I'm not that bad.”
”You can be!”
”But you're my little girl and I -”
”Oh, Dad, please stop.”
Thankfully, the waitress came with our food. Dad dumped so much Parmesan cheese on his it looked like it'd snowed on it. I spun the spaghetti around on my fork and took a big bite.
”Mmm,” Dad mumbled.
I agreed. This tiny hole-in-the-wall had great food. Colby would love this place. I pictured all four of us coming here. Maybe making it a regular thing once a week. I felt peaceful for a moment, picturing us like a normal, happy family. Then I remembered the giant cloud hanging over us. The threat. Kayla could destroy my family at any time.