Rob yet another excuse why he couldn’t go out with me.
Rob seemed hardly to have heard her, however. Instead, he only looked at me, those smokey gray eyes unreadable… .
Almost. I was pretty sure I read something in the set of his square jaw. And that something said,
Thanks for nothing
.
It was only then that I realized I’d had a perfect chance finally to introduce him to my mother, and that, in my panic, I’d blown it.
But hey, who’d had the perfect chance to ask me to be his escort at his uncle Randy’s Christmas Eve wedding, and blown that?
When I returned to the line to see Santa, with my mom’s bags and Great-aunt Rose in tow, it was only to hear Ruth whisper in a low voice, “
You owe me
.” It took me a minute to realize what Ruth meant. I heard snickering. Looking past the cottony field of fake snow that surrounded us, I saw Karen Sue Hankey and some of her cronies pointing at us and laughing their heads off.
I really don’t think my mom should have gotten so mad over the gesture I made at them, despite the fact that there were small children around. They probably didn’t even know what it meant. Great-aunt Rose sure didn’t.
“No, Jessica,” she informed me acidly, a second later. “The peace sign is with two fingers, not one. Don’t they teach you children anything in school these days?”
C H A P T E R
7
T here were more cars than ever outside the Hoadley—I mean Thompkins—house when we got home from the mall later that afternoon.
I was surprised the Thompkinses were acquainted with that many people. For being so new in town, they were pretty popular.
“Look,” Ruth said, as I got out of her car. “Coach Albright’s there.”
Sure enough, I recognized the coach’s Dodge Plymouth. It was hard not to, as he’d had the car custom painted in the Ernie Pyle High School colors of purple and white.
“God,” Ruth said, sympathetically, as I climbed out of her car. “Poor Tasha. Can you imagine having that blowhard in your living room the day after your brother got murdered? That has to be one of those circles of hell Dante was going on about.” We are doing Dante’s
Inferno
in English. Well, everyone else is. I am mainly playing Tetris on my Gameboy in the back row with the sound off.
“Come over later with that picture,” I said. “I mean, if the kid from your synagogue is still missing when you get home.”
“He will be,” Ruth said, bleakly. “This appears to be a day destined for human tragedy. I mean, look at my new sweater.”
I slammed the car door shut and started across my yard, into the house. The snow that the Weather Channel had been talking about still hadn’t appeared, but there was a thick layer of grayish-white clouds overhead. Not a hint of blue showed anywhere. And the wind was pretty nippy. My face, the only part of me exposed to the elements, practically froze during my twenty-foot walk from the driveway to our front door.
“Hey,” I yelled, as I came in. “I’m home.” It was safe to yell this, as Ruth and I had beaten my mom and Great-aunt Rose home from the mall. So the only people who might have heard me were people I didn’t actually mind speaking to.
Only nobody answered my yell. The house appeared to be empty.
I walked over to the hall table to look at the mail. Christmas catalog, Christmas catalog, Christmas catalog. It was amazing how those Christmas catalogs piled up, starting before Halloween, even. Ours all went straight into the recycle bin.
A bill. Another bill. A letter from Harvard, addressed to my parents, no doubt begging them to reconsider letting Mikey drop out. Like they’d had any choice in the matter. Mike had purchased a one-way ticket home the minute he’d heard his lady fair had been hospitalized on account of almost being murdered, and then had refused to go back once Claire turned the full force of her baby blues on him. (It’s way cooler, Claire told me, to have a boyfriend in college than one who is still
Rob seemed hardly to have heard her, however. Instead, he only looked at me, those smokey gray eyes unreadable… .
Almost. I was pretty sure I read something in the set of his square jaw. And that something said,
Thanks for nothing
.
It was only then that I realized I’d had a perfect chance finally to introduce him to my mother, and that, in my panic, I’d blown it.
But hey, who’d had the perfect chance to ask me to be his escort at his uncle Randy’s Christmas Eve wedding, and blown that?
When I returned to the line to see Santa, with my mom’s bags and Great-aunt Rose in tow, it was only to hear Ruth whisper in a low voice, “
You owe me
.” It took me a minute to realize what Ruth meant. I heard snickering. Looking past the cottony field of fake snow that surrounded us, I saw Karen Sue Hankey and some of her cronies pointing at us and laughing their heads off.
I really don’t think my mom should have gotten so mad over the gesture I made at them, despite the fact that there were small children around. They probably didn’t even know what it meant. Great-aunt Rose sure didn’t.
“No, Jessica,” she informed me acidly, a second later. “The peace sign is with two fingers, not one. Don’t they teach you children anything in school these days?”
C H A P T E R
7
T here were more cars than ever outside the Hoadley—I mean Thompkins—house when we got home from the mall later that afternoon.
I was surprised the Thompkinses were acquainted with that many people. For being so new in town, they were pretty popular.
“Look,” Ruth said, as I got out of her car. “Coach Albright’s there.”
Sure enough, I recognized the coach’s Dodge Plymouth. It was hard not to, as he’d had the car custom painted in the Ernie Pyle High School colors of purple and white.
“God,” Ruth said, sympathetically, as I climbed out of her car. “Poor Tasha. Can you imagine having that blowhard in your living room the day after your brother got murdered? That has to be one of those circles of hell Dante was going on about.” We are doing Dante’s
Inferno
in English. Well, everyone else is. I am mainly playing Tetris on my Gameboy in the back row with the sound off.
“Come over later with that picture,” I said. “I mean, if the kid from your synagogue is still missing when you get home.”
“He will be,” Ruth said, bleakly. “This appears to be a day destined for human tragedy. I mean, look at my new sweater.”
I slammed the car door shut and started across my yard, into the house. The snow that the Weather Channel had been talking about still hadn’t appeared, but there was a thick layer of grayish-white clouds overhead. Not a hint of blue showed anywhere. And the wind was pretty nippy. My face, the only part of me exposed to the elements, practically froze during my twenty-foot walk from the driveway to our front door.
“Hey,” I yelled, as I came in. “I’m home.” It was safe to yell this, as Ruth and I had beaten my mom and Great-aunt Rose home from the mall. So the only people who might have heard me were people I didn’t actually mind speaking to.
Only nobody answered my yell. The house appeared to be empty.
I walked over to the hall table to look at the mail. Christmas catalog, Christmas catalog, Christmas catalog. It was amazing how those Christmas catalogs piled up, starting before Halloween, even. Ours all went straight into the recycle bin.
A bill. Another bill. A letter from Harvard, addressed to my parents, no doubt begging them to reconsider letting Mikey drop out. Like they’d had any choice in the matter. Mike had purchased a one-way ticket home the minute he’d heard his lady fair had been hospitalized on account of almost being murdered, and then had refused to go back once Claire turned the full force of her baby blues on him. (It’s way cooler, Claire told me, to have a boyfriend in college than one who is still
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