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“What the hell was that?” Sha
“What were you doing in there, Sha
“Why not? He ambushed us when he stole all our money!”
“He’s right, Sha
Sha
“What the hell does that mean?” Hammond blurted.
“Are you forgetting what that guy did to us?” Sha
“She’s right. He deserves it,” Faith put in, shoving her hands into the pockets of her white coat. Her nose was all red and her eyes watery, but I couldn’t tell if it was from the cold or because she was upset. “I can’t even believe Chloe’s dad would give him a job.”
“Not to mention a place to stay,” Sha
“He’s not a traitor,” Hammond spat, turning up the collar of his coat again. “He saw a friend in trouble and helped him out. Any one of us would do the same for you.”
“Yeah, Sha
Her eyes flashed, and she glared at me. We both knew I was walking a fine line, talking about the Hammond/Chloe/Ally situation right in front of the others. But I was right. I knew I was.
“What I don’t get is, why tonight?” Hammond asked. “Chloe spilled back before Christmas. Why the sudden motivation to come find him?”
Sha
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked. Was she doing this because she thought I liked Ally? Trying to remind me that the Norm wasn’t worthy because her dad worked in a deli? How shallow did she think I was?
“Whatever. I’m over this conversation,” Sha
She turned around and grabbed Faith’s hand, speed walking down the street. Hammond and I looked at one another, sighed, and followed. All I could think about for the rest of the night was the look on Mr. Ryan’s face when he’d seen Faith. He looked scared. Like he was watching his life pass before his eyes. I knew the feeling. I’d seen Ally’s dad. I knew right where he was. Where he worked, where he lived.
The question was, what the hell was I going to do about it?
march
Okay. Ally Ryan just texted all through French class.
So?
So!? Who is she texting?
I saw her hanging out with Marshall Moss at
Starbucks last night.
No. Seriously? She just broke up with David Drake.
Um, that was, like, a month ago.
I bet he’s the one who sent her all those flowers.
David?
No. Marshall. He seems like the romantic type.
Not possible. Marshall was still going out with Kristie Murphy on Valentine’s Day. He got her those gold earrings and then she dumped him?
So, wait. In the last month Ally Ryan has had David
Drake, Marshall Moss, and some secret admirer
all over her?
Yeah.
I thought she was supposed to be unpopular.
ally
Qui
My mother looked at me and clucked her tongue. But what did she expect? I’d never been a dancer, I’d never been remotely interested in dance, and yet here I was, sitting through a three-hour-long dance recital just so I could catch Qui
Okay, that was selfish and immature. But still. I didn’t like where this was headed. It felt way too blended-family If I wasn’t step-freaked before, I definitely was now.
Of course, it wasn’t like I had anything better to do. A
As soon as the lights came up at intermission, I was out of my seat. The vending machines were calling my name. If I was going to make it through the second half of this thing, I was going to need caffeine. And sugar. Preferably in the form of chocolate.
“What is with your attitude today, Ally?” my mom asked, coming up behind me as I popped the top on an ice-cold can of Coke.
“Sorry. I just . . . why am I here again?” I asked.
My mother sighed and leaned back against the light blue cinder block wall. The recital was being held at some regional school a half hour from home, and I wondered if every school in North America had some kind of cinder block wall somewhere within its structure.
“You’re here to support Qui
“Right! Right.” I took a slug of my soda. “And why am I supporting Qui
“Ally,” my mom said in a warning tone.
I stepped away from the soda machine so the shaggy-haired skater dude behind me could get his fix—solidarity, brother—and stood next to her.
“What? I’m serious. Qui
“Well, that’s kind of the point,” my mother said. “Gray and I were hoping we could all hang out so you two could get to know each other better.”
A knot tightened in my chest. That sounded ominous. “Why?”
“Because, hon. Gray and I have been dating for six months now,” she said. “It would be nice if we could all feel comfortable getting together. It would just make things . . . easier.”
Yeah. For you. But what about me? And what if my dad ever came back? What was she going to do if he walked in on some cozy family tableau of us and the Nathansons playing Scrabble in front of the fire?
Not that the condo had a fireplace, but still.
“So? What do you say? Can you give me one Saturday?” my mother asked.
I rolled my eyes. “Fine.” I straightened up when I saw Gray looking for us in the noisy crowd. “There’s your main squeeze now.”
She shook her head at me, then waved her hand to summon him. Gray saw us and started to cut through the milling parents and dance teachers and siblings. At least he was wearing a button-down shirt buttoned up all the way today. No chest hair to be seen. I took a big swallow of soda as he approached.