Chapter 20 Then
Then
I woke up groggy. I’d had the nightmare again the night before.
It hadn’t helped that my parents were once again fighting before I went to bed.
This time it was about money and how things were going to work if Dad couldn’t bill clients for an extended period.
I’d walked down the hall and stood in the open doorway to their bedroom for several long minutes before my mom noticed me.
“Hey, honey,” she said in a tired voice.
It made me feel bad for interrupting. She needed to let her stress out as much as I did, I was sure.
A thought entered my mind suddenly. “Your birthday trip on Wednesday.” They’d been planning a trip to San Diego for months now. They didn’t usually go away on birthdays, especially not midweek, but this year my mom was turning forty and Dad had planned a getaway for her. She could use a getaway.
“We’re not going,” she said, her words clipped, short.
“The FBI doesn’t want me to leave town right now,” Dad said, with a look that made it clear that he wished I hadn’t brought that up. They’d obviously already had a fight about this as well. “We’ll go in a couple of months.”
“I’m going to bed,” I said. I couldn’t make things worse if I went to bed.
“Night,” Mom said, and she turned to face my dad again. He gave me a small smile and a nod. His lawyer face. I’d seen him make it in court to placate a cranky judge or a nervous client. I wondered which one he thought I was.
And so I’d gone to sleep to the sound of their raised voices, even through my closed door.
Now, this morning, I rubbed my eyes and wanted to just stay in bed. But it was literally the first day back after vacation and I couldn’t miss it. Plus, I had a test today. I didn’t miss tests.
“You look tired,” Caroline said when I climbed into the back seat for carpool.
“I didn’t sleep well,” I said.
“Already making up excuses for why I will beat you on this test?” Beau asked.
“Must be,” I said.
Me not joking back wiped the smile off his face and replaced it with concern. “Why didn’t you sleep well?”
“I don’t know,” I said. I didn’t lie to my friends, especially not Beau, but it felt like that’s all I’d been doing for the past ten days.
I hated it. I wished I didn’t have to, but my parents talking about money last night and canceling vacations had only driven home how important my dad’s reputation was.
Speaking of canceling vacations. “Hey, Caroline, I don’t need to stay at your house Wednesday after all.” It was almost a relief to say that. To know that I didn’t have to try to lie and fake it for a couple of days.
“Oh no, why?” she said. “I had a whole movie lineup for us.”
“My dad couldn’t get away,” I said. Not a lie. “Work.”
“We should have a slumber party anyway,” Ava said. “It’s been forever.”
“No, it’s a school night,” I spit out, too fast and with too much anger in my voice. “And it’s still my mom’s birthday.” That sentence I tried to soften, but when Caroline gave me a wounded expression, I knew I hadn’t succeeded. “Sorry,” I mumbled.
At school, we greeted Harper and were walking to class when the sound of a skateboard glided alongside us.
“Hey, Indiana Jones,” Cody said, in front of everyone. “I didn’t get your number on Saturday.”
“And you’re not getting it now,” Beau chimed in.
“Seriously,” Harper said. “Keep on moving.”
I shot them both a look.
“Him?” Harper asked. “You’re not serious.”
“I’ll see you all later.” I peeled off from the group, still feeling guilty about my shortness in the car, and approached Cody. I needed a break from the guilt. A break from how guarded I had to be around my friends. Watching every word that came out of my mouth was exhausting.
“Are you going to yell at me too?” Cody asked.
“No.”
He stepped on the back of his board, popping it up so he could grab it by the bar between the front wheels. “You’re going to give me your number, then?”
“What are you going to do with it?”
“Prank-call you,” he deadpanned.
“That’s what I thought,” I said right back.
“I’ll probably text you. And if you need to hear the sound of my voice, I could call you occasionally too.” He pulled out his phone like it was a given I was going to provide him with the information he was requesting.
He wasn’t wrong. I relayed my number to him, then said, “But don’t save me as Indiana Jones in there.”
He cringed. “Too late. But if you’re real nice, I’ll shorten it to Jones.”
“I better not be nice, then.”
He barked out a laugh. “Want a ride to class?”
I narrowed my eyes. “On that?”
He held up his board. “Yes, on this.”
“You’re not supposed to ride it on campus.”
“Do you always follow the rules?” he asked.
“Generally,” I said.
“Where’s the fun in that?” he returned, a twinkle in his eye.
“Is it safe?”
“The safest.” He put the board down again and held his hand out to the side as if to say Your chariot awaits. I hesitated but then stepped on. It immediately shot out from underneath me, but he grabbed me by the waist before it got away. “Whoa there,” he said, stabilizing me.
I bent my knees a little, grounding myself into the board.
“Take a half step forward,” he said.
I did. Then he was behind me, one foot on the board, the other pushing off the ground.
My back was pressed to his front. His hands were still on my waist as he steered us through the open-air hallways, around people and buildings.
He wasn’t as careful as he should’ve been.
People often had to jump out of the way, and twice my arm brushed along a pole he’d hugged too tight.
But my stomach was in my feet, wind blew through my hair, and a smile was on my face.
“You passed my class,” I said as he zipped by the door to the C building.
“What?” he asked, resting his chin on my right shoulder.
“My class. C building,” I said.
“Oh,” he said, and stopped the board. He held on to my waist until I stepped all the way off. “See you later, Jonesy,” he said.
“Not a fan of the name,” I told him as I walked away.
He ran up behind me and planted a kiss on my cheek, then was skating away.
I barely made it into my seat as the late bell rang.
Beau looked over at me from where he sat on my right.
He popped his eyebrows up in judgment. Suddenly my nerves were on high alert again as I remembered we were taking a test today.
I would’ve normally been poring over flash cards this morning, but I hadn’t looked at them once. I felt entirely underprepared for this.
Mrs. Dulaney was already passing out the booklet. It was a show-your-work type of test, not multiple-choice. I hated that for me.
We hadn’t even started and sweat was beading at my temples and along the back of my neck.
I dug a hair tie out of my bag and gathered my hair into a messy bun at the crown of my head.
Mrs. Dulaney gave instructions as the test was placed in front of me and then the timer was starting.
Not an official timer or anything, just a countdown until the end of the period, the seconds ticking away on the wall clock.
My eyes went to the first problem. I solved it, along with the second and third.
But then I slowed down. I couldn’t remember the formula to solve the fourth.
I skipped it, along with the fifth. I completed several at the end.
And then I was back to the ones I’d skipped in the middle.
There were six of them? Had I really skipped six of them?
I didn’t remember. It was only a fifteen-question test. Six questions was too many to get wrong.
I could remember the formula. I closed my eyes for a second…
or two or three. My brain was foggy, tired.
My face felt hot, my palms sweaty. My head fell forward and I jerked it up.
Had I fallen asleep? My eyes shot to the clock on the wall.
I had twenty minutes left. I’d lost fifteen minutes somewhere.
Twenty minutes for six problems. That was…
three minutes for each? A little more than three minutes.
I could do them if I could remember the formula.
To my right, Beau was done and double-checking his work.
I looked at his page, telling myself I was just double-checking his work too.
Then I realized I had seen his answer, his formula.
I blinked. Had I meant to do that? It would help me with questions four and five.
I must’ve meant to because I kept my eyes on his answers as he flipped to the next page I needed.
I scanned the page. Of course, how could I have forgotten how to do that? I felt relief for one second until Beau’s hands moved over his answers and my eyes shot to his. He was looking at me with a confused expression. I averted my gaze and finished the test…with his formulas and answers.
I tried to make myself feel better by telling myself that if I had just had my textbook, I would’ve gotten the same answers. If I’d had better sleep last night. If my dad wasn’t in the middle of some very serious allegations. If my family wasn’t falling apart…then I wouldn’t have cheated.