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“Holly, don’t be ridiculous!”
“Or is it because she’s healthy— normal?”
“Holly!” He stares at me, shocked. “I would never
choose her over you.”
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“Then prove it,” demand. “Tell her the truth.”
He looks at me for
long moment, then rubs his
hands roughly across his face.
“No,” he sighs heavily, his voice cracking. “Holly,
sweetheart, can’t.”
“Then you’ve made your choice,” say, opening the
door, the blood pumping in my ears. “Now go.”
“Holly!”
“Go, Dad! Go on—go to her!”
“Holly-berry, please, let’s talk about this.”
“Are you going to tell her?”
“Holly …”
“Are you?”
He searches my face desperately,
deep frown
furrowing his forehead, his eyes tortured, watery—but
don’t care. He’s choosing her over me—the healthy
daughter over the sick, the brand-new daughter who
looks like his first love over the girl who’s loved him her
entire life.
“Go,” order.
“We’ll
we’ll talk about this more later.” He sighs,
reaching for me as turn away. “Holly, promise, we’ll—”
“I won’t be here.”
slam the door behind him,
cutting him off as the world blurs around me.
Rosie
can’t believe he chose Rosie …
look around the room, my pulse stabbing my
temples as my eyes skim over the wallpaper Dad put up
for me, the keyboard begged him for when was twelve,
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Mr. Brown
Everywhere look, presents and photos and
memories
scream rips from my throat as
fly at them
savagely, shoving and clawing, ripping at the pictures on
the wall, the photos, the posters—tearing at the lies, the
souvenirs of life should never have had. lob books and
shred photos and kick at pile of clothes, when something
small and pink tumbles out of pocket.
snatch it up, about to rip it—when suddenly
realize what it is.
Rosie’s address book.
I’d forgotten all about it. open it up, its neat pink
square small and hard in my hand as flip through it. All
these people I’ve never met. Who might have been my
friends, my family
My thumb stops suddenly as name
jumps out from the thin pages.
Nana Fisher
stare at it, rubbing my thumb gently over the black
ink as if could touch her, see her. This woman who would
have been my nana, my family but for the mistake that’s kept us apart.
My whole life’s one huge, horrible mistake.
Or rather, it wasn’t mistake, at all
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Suddenly my fingers scrabble in the pages, flipping
through quickly to the S section. scan the lines urgently, but it’s all surnames. take deep breath and start at the
begi
pulse racing as my eyes dart over the pages, searching,
searching
Until find her.
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Rosie
We’re tucking into our sundaes by the time Jack
arrives at Pisa Pizza.
“Hi, where’ve you been?” Megan stands to kiss him
as Ben covers his bowl protectively.
“You can’t have any, Daddy!” he sings. “You’re the
last!”
“Meany.” Jack smiles halfheartedly.
“We saved you both some pizza, though.” Megan
smiles. “Where’s Holly?”
“She’s not coming.” He slumps into the booth and
runs his hands through his hair. “She’s moving out.”
“What?” Megan drops her spoon.
stare at him.
“Why?” she asks. “I thought everything was okay
now—Kitty dropped the case!”
“I know,” he sighs. “I think she just needs
some
time alone for while.”
“Where’s Holly?” Ben asks in small voice.
Jack and Megan exchange looks.
“She’s gone on little vacation,” Megan says quickly.
“To the beach?” Ben asks hopefully. “Can we go
too?”
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“Not this time.” Megan smiles. “She’s gone
somewhere very boring and cold.”
“The North Pole?” Ben asks. “With the penguins?”
Megan laughs. “Something like that. Brrr!” She
tickles him and he laughs.
“I like penguins,” Ben says.
“Well, you obviously don’t like ice cream!” Megan
says, picking up her spoon. “So I’ll just have to eat yours
up!”
“No!” Ben squeals, digging in.
“Good boy.” She ruffles his hair, then looks at Jack
anxiously.
stare at my ice cream melting in my dish, my wafer
sliding over onto its side.
push it up again with my
spoon, but no matter how many times
keep trying to
prop it up, it always slides back down, the pool of slush
getting bigger every time.
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Holly
“Whoa,” Melissa gasps after I’ve told her
everything—almost everything. She may be my best
friend, but as she’s also Josh’s sister, still can’t tell her I’m pregnant. Not before Josh. Not until know if the baby’s at
risk.
If there’s even going to be baby.
“Jeez.” Melissa shakes her head. “Holy crap, Holly.”
nod. That pretty much sums it up.
“I can’t believe it—your dad
Huntington’s
disease
Kitty Clare!
look up quickly. “You can’t tell anyone, Melissa.
Swear it.”
“I swear!” she promises earnestly. “Jeez, Holls, why
didn’t you call me?
must’ve tried your cell
million
times.”
“Sorry, it’s broken.”
“I thought you were avoiding me coz of what
happened with Josh—I was ready to kill him for wrecking
our friendship!”
squeeze her hand. “Never.”
“And then your dad said you were sick when came
around, and you’ve been out of school so long thought
you had mono—or worse!”
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nod. Worse Much, much worse.
“Don’t worry, you can copy all my notes.” Melissa
smiles. “Not that you’ve really missed much. Except
Natalie Van Pelt came back from vacation with the worst
nose job I’ve ever seen though she claims she just had skiing accident, but—yeah, right!” She looks up suddenly,
contrite. “Not that you really care when your life’s going
down the crapper, huh? Sorry.” She squeezes my knee.
“No, it’s okay.”
smile. It’s actually good to think
about something else for
change. “What other gossip
have missed?”
Melissa grins, her eyes sparkling as she spends the
next hour filling me in on school scandals, from fashion
faux pas and disastrous dates to
hilarious horror story
about girl who cut off the school diva’s ponytail because
she flirted with her boyfriend, which has me in hysterics,
imagining the look of horror on Kimberley’s perfect face
when her golden curls plummeted to the floor—priceless!
“Which just goes to show”—Melissa winks—“don’t
get mad. Get even.”
giggle, wiping tears from my eyes, and suddenly
realize how long it’s been since laughed, since thought
of anything but Huntington’s or Rosie or the baby.
Thank God for Melissa.
Just then there’s knock on her bedroom door, and
her mom steps inside.
“Hi, girls.” She smiles awkwardly. “Listen, know
said you could stay over, Holly—and you know you’re
always welcome …” She squeezes my hand and my heart
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sinks. “But
just got
call from your dad, honey. He’s
really worried about you. think you should go home.”
“Mom!” Melissa exclaims. “You can’t kick Holly