Since I'd never been drunk, and this was my first experience being high, I didn't quite grasp that reaching out to Portia in my current state wasn't the best idea. She'd kept me at arm's length, responding to texts with short answers, but I hadn't been brave enough to call. I had a hard time hearing her voice-it made me miss her-so I'd avoided phone calls since she left. When I got home from Carson's, I snuck into my room and locked the door. Any witness to my behavior might believe I was part of a covert operation...or possibly breaking and entering. I hated to think just how sketchy I appeared from an outsider's perspective. I grabbed my cell from my backpack and searched for a place to hide. Ernie was at work, and Hensley's car wasn't here when I'd shown up, so I wasn't sure who I was hiding from; it just made sense. The closet proved to be my best choice for full coverage. I didn't bother with the light and closed myself in. The glow of the screen illuminated the small space eno
It had taken me all of three weeks to break whatever agreement I'd made with Portia not to smoke pot again. The truth was, I thought all her vibrato was overkill. It came from a place of concern, but if marijuana was legal in a handful of states and decriminalized in several more, it couldn't be the death sentence Portia made it out to be. Cancer patients had used it for years to fight nausea and pain. And I was proof it warded off mental anguish, as well.My grades hadn't suffered, Ernie and Hensley were none the wiser, and it hadn't affected my ability to take care of my responsibilities. In fact, the more I smoked, the happier my foster parents believed me to be. I'd simply made a mental note not to call Portia after school, and since we texted most of the time, it didn't matter, anyhow.Portia: I'm coming home this weekend.Me: Are you actually staying the whole weekend or is it a quick trip?Portia: Depends. Can you keep your hands to yourself?Me: Do I have to?This w
Jude's easy acceptance of my relationship status stung. I didn't know what I had expected, some sort of fight, hesitation, anything to indicate his kiss had meant something. Jude wasn't Chet, but I had a hard time differentiating between the two when it seemed a cheap feel was all either wanted. Unfortunately, I couldn't discuss Jude with anyone, and Chet was just an ass. I could talk until I was blue in the face about the lacrosse player the girls on campus lusted after, and it wouldn't change anything about him. Sitting cross-legged on my bed, I held the phone in my hand and wondered when the shift had taken place with Jude. I'd always believed he cared about me, and I still wanted to. I just couldn't reconcile his ability to change gears and hand me off to another guy with so little fight-not that I'd given him an opening to do anything different. I flung myself back onto my pillows and let out a loud grunt. The door swung open during my anxious release, but I didn't bother to gl
"Hey," I greeted Bart.He popped a quick kiss on my lips that felt warm and good. Although I had to admit, it wasn't electric-but maybe rocking chairs and growing old wasn't about explosive moments, and instead, relied on deep-seated friendship and mutual attraction."Hey, yourself. You want to grab some dinner? I'm going to meet Jet and Todd in the cafeteria." He leaned against the doorframe.My shoulders relaxed, and I fell under the charm that captivated me anytime we were together. When I was physically in his presence, I was content, happy. Unfortunately, when he wasn't within reach, my mind wandered endlessly. For the time being, I decided to focus on the here and now. At eighteen, I didn't have to make any life-altering decisions-he asked about dinner, not marriage. "Actually, I'm starving." I grabbed my keys and then tugged a sweatshirt over my head. "I wanted to talk to you about something, anyhow." I moved past him and locked my room behind me. Bart took my hand a
The festivities were set to begin promptly at seven. Hensley was giddy over Portia bringing home a boy, Ernie appeared defensive, and I just had to sit back to watch how it played out. Neither Hensley nor Ernie mentioned a surprise of any kind; however, Hensley had made a roast, which was my favorite. It also happened to be the best thing she cooked, so I couldn't be certain it was for me and not Portia's "guest.""Do you know anything about this boy, Jude?" My foster mother had to be one of the kindest, most sincere, gentle women I'd ever known-the thought of a twenty-year-old guy being a "boy" might have made her a tad naïve, as well."I met him the day I dropped Portia off." Indifference dripped from my words and expression."And what's he like?" Her eyes were wide with anticipation. She mixed the ingredients for cookies together with her electric mixer, waiting for me to divulge the inside scoop.I hadn't committed him to memory. "Nice, I guess." I'd tried to forget him. If
When I got back to the house, Bart's car was gone, and I assumed Portia had left with him. It was late, although I didn't know what time since I hadn't grabbed my cell phone when I'd stormed out after dinner. The house was dark, and a heavy silence hung in the air. Every step I took equated to walking in water, and the tension I'd left in the house still gripped every surface and available space. The stairs might as well have been Everest, as hard as they were to climb. A chill ran down my spine that prickled my skin, taking a substantial burden with it and making every step laborious. I didn't find the atmosphere to be any different on the second floor than the first, except there was even less light to illuminate the hall without windows. It wasn't difficult to navigate the familiar path, just uncomfortable. I hadn't felt like a stranger in this house since the first day I'd arrived-now it was as though I was an intruder.After entering the second room on the left, I closed the
Waking the next morning, I'd hoped to find Portia hogging the bed and the blankets, but I found her space empty. I dreaded what I had to do and figured a shower would serve me well before facing the mess I'd created last night, although I wasn't the only one responsible for the turdshow at the manure corral. The shower ran cold while I played different scenarios in my head for how to word things with Ernie and Hensley, and I ended up deciding spontaneity would play in my favor. I never did well with anything rehearsed. By the time I made it downstairs, it was nearly eleven, and the house was relatively quiet. Portia and Hensley were nowhere to be found, and I started to wonder if this was going to be a habit of Portia's every time she came home. Ernie sat at the table with a cup of coffee and the newspaper in hand. "Hey, son." He set the paper down when I took a seat across from him."Is Hensley around?""She and Portia went shopping." Good to know she hadn't escaped under
Bart and I had exchanged several text messages, but he hadn't encourage me to come back to school early in any of them. In some weird, girly way, it hurt, and in another, it didn't bother me. I was grateful to have a couple days with my parents and Jude, even if he wasn't a barrel of laughs to be around. I hadn't gotten all the details, although I heard enough from the top of the stairs to understand that Jude had finally let go of the emotional wall he'd erected around his heart. I shouldn't have eavesdropped when I heard Ernie retelling Jude's apology to Hensley. It was wrong. I was also a nosy girl who loved the boy my parents were talking about-every teenager in America would have done the same. So, I stood still and listened to their conversation downstairs. Oddly, Ernie wasn't concerned about Jude's breakdown or the fact that he'd stayed holed up in his room all day. In fact, he thought it was the healthiest thing he'd seen from Jude since Carrie died. At that point, I didn't