A Good Excuse To Be Bad

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Authors: Miranda Parker
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ran to the window and looked outside. I groaned. You gotta be kidding me . Sure enough, my perfect sister politely was backing of my driveway without a word. Gone again, but this time she left her kids behind.
    My heart pounded. What in the world was going on?
    I raced out the room, down the hall, and slid down the banister. It wasn’t pretty and it chafed. Despite the discomfort, I yanked the front door open and stumbled onto the porch. But I was too late. She peeled off into the night just as I hopped off the last step.
    â€œAvalyn!” I screamed at her taillights speeding down my normally quiet street. “I can’t take care of three kids and Whitney.”

5
    Friday, 12:35 AM
    Â 
    I stood on my porch for thirty minutes, waiting and praying for Ava to come back. My hands shook. My head swam. My mind raced. My sister had me bent with few options.
    I called her cell phone; she didn’t answer. I wanted to call her house, but there was no way she was there so soon, and I wasn’t sure if my calling would cause trouble. I wanted to call Mom, but then I remembered that if I did that, then I should also prepare for her to kill me, or worse, tell me how I continue to fail her as a daughter. Or, I could travel to Ava’s place in Decatur to find out what was going on and, if need be, kick D’s butt. Sounded good to me, except I had to tell Whitney what just happened.
    I took a slow walk to her room. Our little sister was no joke. Unlike Ava and me, she grew up in Atlanta instead of the country. Because she had always lived in the city, she had very little patience, except when it came to Bella. Her whole logic about life was different than Ava’s and mine, too. Although I learned to develop a thick skin, I believe Whitney was born to fight. At least that’s what Mom said when she made her come live with me.
    I knocked on her door.
    She flung it open. “What?”
    â€œYou’re awake.” I hopped back.
    Whitney didn’t look like Ava and me, not because of the obvious. We had different dads. She was longer, leaner, darker, and oozed sexiness. Even with her hair in a ponytail and wrapped in a bandana. She looked like Atlanta.
    â€œI couldn’t help but be after all that jumping and running Bella was doing in the house. Do you know when I went to her room, she was sound asleep? How does a kid make all that noise, then look so innocent and quiet in the next minute?” She shook her head, then tilted her head at me. “How much do you know about her daddy?”
    â€œWhitney, it wasn’t Bella making that racket, it was me, Ava, and her kids.”
    Her eyes widened. “Ava’s here?”
    â€œNope, not anymore. She left about a half hour ago.”
    â€œWhy was she stopping through this late? Did she and Devon just come back from a road trip or something?”
    â€œAva came here with the kids without Devon. She was dressed in a froufrou nightgown looking sad, real sad. I went to check on Bella, and before I knew what was happening, she left us with the kids and disappeared.”
    She grabbed me and pulled me inside. “What in the world? What’s up with her? Let me call her.” She reached for her cell phone.
    â€œWait.” I caught her hand. “Ava has a bruise on her face. She says it was an accident, but it looked like a handprint to me.”
    Whitney reached for her shoes under her nightstand. “Let’s go.”
    â€œHold on!” I snatched the shoes from her. “If it is what we think it is, we have to be careful. I think we need to call the Dekalb County Police first.”
    â€œBump the police. Pack up the kids. Let’s go. I got some hurt for him.” She ran out the door and down the hall. “Meet you in the garage. I need to get some tools.”
    â€œWait . . .” Maybe I should have asked her to be my heavy last night when I needed it. “Don’t you wake up those kids.”
    The phone

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