suggested.
“Sure. Pull your feet in.”
Justine swung her feet into the car and pulled on her seatbelt. Officer Joe shut the passenger door and went around to his own side. He started the car, tapped some codes into the in car computer, and clicked his walkie-talkie. Reporting briefly, he pulled out onto the street.
“What’s the address?” he questioned.
Justine gave Em’s address.
“Thanks,” she said.
“No problem. Now I want you to take care of yourself, understand? Get to bed early. Talk to your therapist. Ride safe, and don’t be stupid. Call me before you do something reckless.”
He worked a business card out of his pocket and handed it to her. Justine examined it, and put it into her pocket with a smile, feeling touched that he cared.
“Thanks. I will.”
C HAPTER 4
E VEN IF IT HADN ’ T been the weekend, Em probably would have let Justine stay home from school. When Justine got up in the morning and looked at herself in the mirror, she shook her head in amazement at the sick bruises that covered half her face. She looked like she’d been in a particularly brutal bar fight. If she’d gone to school looking like that, she would have been sitting in the guidance counselor’s office in minutes. And probably dealing with a social worker and resource cop too. As it was, even though it was a Saturday, Em laid down the law and told Justine that she wasn’t leaving the house. She was to stay in bed with cold compresses on her face as much of the time as possible.
“Did you get in a fight?” Em demanded, staring at the bruises in disbelief.
“No. I just took a fall. Landed the wrong way.” Justine shrugged. “It happens.”
“I do not like you skateboarding. It is too dangerous. You could have been killed!”
“I just bumped my head,” Justine protested. “Got a goose egg. What about that lady at your office that slipped on her bathroom floor and ended up in a coma? You can’t prevent freak accidents. I skate safe.”
Justine knew perfectly well it wasn’t true. She’d been reckless and careless and took risks that she knew that she shouldn’t. She’d been driven to move and to act, to confront her own mortality in the face of Christian’s. But Em didn’t know that. As far as Em knew, Justine could have just been skating sedately down the street and hit a crack in the pavement, or tripped over a cat or something.
“You obviously weren’t skating safely enough,” Em maintained.
“Okay, whatever. What are you going to get me for breakfast?”
“What am I going to get you?” Em demanded. “I told you, I’m not your slave.”
“I thought you wanted me to stay in bed,” Justine pointed out. “Never mind, I’ll get my own.” She jumped up from where she was sitting at her vanity, and put her hand to her throbbing head, only half-faking a dizzy spell on rising. “Oooh. Head rush.”
“You get back in bed,” Em insisted, herding her back over, ready to catch Justine if she fell. “I’ll get your breakfast. I don’t want you passing out on me. Do you think you have a concussion?”
“No, I don’t feel like I have to puke or anything. Just a bit dizzy.”
Justine swayed, and Em pushed her down onto the bed.
“Lie down. I’ll get you something.”
“Can I have eggs?” Justine questioned. “Is that ‘clean’? I feel like I need the protein …”
Em hesitated, the nodded.
“Eggs are fine,” she deliberated. “And maybe a green smoothie …”
“Oh yes,” Justine agreed immediately, “that has lots of iron. Can I have cheese in the eggs? Real cheese?”
Em shook her head.
“You know you’re not supposed to have any casein …”
“If you’re making me eat kale, can’t I have real cheese? It’s not going to hurt, this once. I love cheese in my scrambled eggs. You can even put some chopped veggies in it,” Justine wheedled, in her sweetest, most ingratiating voice.
“I’d better get moving,” Em said, looking at
“Sure. Pull your feet in.”
Justine swung her feet into the car and pulled on her seatbelt. Officer Joe shut the passenger door and went around to his own side. He started the car, tapped some codes into the in car computer, and clicked his walkie-talkie. Reporting briefly, he pulled out onto the street.
“What’s the address?” he questioned.
Justine gave Em’s address.
“Thanks,” she said.
“No problem. Now I want you to take care of yourself, understand? Get to bed early. Talk to your therapist. Ride safe, and don’t be stupid. Call me before you do something reckless.”
He worked a business card out of his pocket and handed it to her. Justine examined it, and put it into her pocket with a smile, feeling touched that he cared.
“Thanks. I will.”
C HAPTER 4
E VEN IF IT HADN ’ T been the weekend, Em probably would have let Justine stay home from school. When Justine got up in the morning and looked at herself in the mirror, she shook her head in amazement at the sick bruises that covered half her face. She looked like she’d been in a particularly brutal bar fight. If she’d gone to school looking like that, she would have been sitting in the guidance counselor’s office in minutes. And probably dealing with a social worker and resource cop too. As it was, even though it was a Saturday, Em laid down the law and told Justine that she wasn’t leaving the house. She was to stay in bed with cold compresses on her face as much of the time as possible.
“Did you get in a fight?” Em demanded, staring at the bruises in disbelief.
“No. I just took a fall. Landed the wrong way.” Justine shrugged. “It happens.”
“I do not like you skateboarding. It is too dangerous. You could have been killed!”
“I just bumped my head,” Justine protested. “Got a goose egg. What about that lady at your office that slipped on her bathroom floor and ended up in a coma? You can’t prevent freak accidents. I skate safe.”
Justine knew perfectly well it wasn’t true. She’d been reckless and careless and took risks that she knew that she shouldn’t. She’d been driven to move and to act, to confront her own mortality in the face of Christian’s. But Em didn’t know that. As far as Em knew, Justine could have just been skating sedately down the street and hit a crack in the pavement, or tripped over a cat or something.
“You obviously weren’t skating safely enough,” Em maintained.
“Okay, whatever. What are you going to get me for breakfast?”
“What am I going to get you?” Em demanded. “I told you, I’m not your slave.”
“I thought you wanted me to stay in bed,” Justine pointed out. “Never mind, I’ll get my own.” She jumped up from where she was sitting at her vanity, and put her hand to her throbbing head, only half-faking a dizzy spell on rising. “Oooh. Head rush.”
“You get back in bed,” Em insisted, herding her back over, ready to catch Justine if she fell. “I’ll get your breakfast. I don’t want you passing out on me. Do you think you have a concussion?”
“No, I don’t feel like I have to puke or anything. Just a bit dizzy.”
Justine swayed, and Em pushed her down onto the bed.
“Lie down. I’ll get you something.”
“Can I have eggs?” Justine questioned. “Is that ‘clean’? I feel like I need the protein …”
Em hesitated, the nodded.
“Eggs are fine,” she deliberated. “And maybe a green smoothie …”
“Oh yes,” Justine agreed immediately, “that has lots of iron. Can I have cheese in the eggs? Real cheese?”
Em shook her head.
“You know you’re not supposed to have any casein …”
“If you’re making me eat kale, can’t I have real cheese? It’s not going to hurt, this once. I love cheese in my scrambled eggs. You can even put some chopped veggies in it,” Justine wheedled, in her sweetest, most ingratiating voice.
“I’d better get moving,” Em said, looking at
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