Want to Go Private? Page 11

  “Only to drop off stuff for donations.”

  “We should go sometime. Grace came with me yesterday and she got this really cool retro jacket for five bucks.”

  Part of me is miffed that Faith didn’t even bother to ask me to go. But then I probably wouldn’t have gone anyway.

  I force down the hurt part, the one that’s whining, Why didn’t she invite me?

  “So things are going well with you and Ted?”

  Faith’s eyes get this faraway look, and she has this goofy half smile on her face.

  “Better than well. I swear, Abby, I never thought … well, he’s just so different … you know, from other guys. He’s smart and funny and … like, we really talk about stuff. Really talk, the way you and I do.”

  Or used to. When I still mattered in your life.

  But then I have Luke, who I can talk to about anything. Anything and everything. Luke, who never accuses me of being “negative.” Who listens and supports me, no matter what I say or do.

  “That’s great,” I tell Faith, but I’m starting to drift into LukeWorld.

  “How’s your boyfriend?” Faith asks.

  What boyfriend? I think, panicked. I never told her about Luke.

  “I’m not seeing Billy Fisher anymore,” I tell her. “I mean he’s a nice guy and all, but that was kind of a one-time thing.”

  Faith gives me this strange look, like I’ve suddenly sprouted donkey ears or something.

  “I know that. You told me. I’m talking about the guy you met at the retreat. Whateverhisnameis.”

  Oops. I totally forgot about that.

  “Oh, yeah. He’s good. We talk a lot on the phone and stuff, and we’re hoping to get together someday soon. It’s hard, you know, because he doesn’t live near here.”

  I know she wants to ask me more questions, but luckily for me, we’re at the nurse’s office.

  “Thanks for walking with me,” I tell her. “You better get back before Ms. C makes you drop and give her twenty.”

  “Yeah, right,” Faith says. “I hope you feel better, Abs.”

  She turns to go but then turns back and says, “And let’s try to have a sleepover soon, okay? I miss you.”

  I wonder if she really does miss me, what with Ted and Grace and stage crew and her trips to Goodwill to find props that she didn’t invite me on. But she’s giving me the puppy dog look.

  “Yeah. Let’s make a date. I’ve … missed you, too.”

  On Tuesday, Mr. Evans hands back the tests. My heart is beating so loud I’m sure Nick and Amanda can hear it as Mr. Evans walks toward my desk. He puts the paper facedown. I don’t even want to turn it over because I know it’s going to be bad. Like maybe a C-minus or something.

  I take a deep breath and flip the edge up so I can see my grade. What? It’s even worse than I thought. I got a D. I’ve never, ever, in my entire life, got a grade that bad in anything, much less math, which is supposed to be one of my best subjects. Underneath the grade, Mr. Evans has written SEE ME!!! in big red letters, underlined three times.

  I am so dead.

  Even Nick fricking Peters did better than me. I hear him telling Amanda that he got a C-plus. Which for him is like an A. Amanda got a B. I think I’m going to throw up.

  Being smart is what I have. It’s what I do. And now I’m screwing up in what’s supposed to be my best class?

  It feels like the longest period ever, and it just kills me as Mr. Evans goes over the test, because I know this stuff. If I hadn’t been so tired … if I hadn’t been up half the night talking to Luke … if I hadn’t been so … fricking … stupid.

  When the bell rings, I stay at my desk until the room is mostly empty, then I drag myself up to the front of the room and stand in front of Mr. Evans’s desk.

  “So, Abby. What’s up with you?”

  “I … well … I …”

  “Did you study for this test?”

  “Yes, I did. I know all this stuff, really, I do.”

  “So then what happened?”

  “I think … I just wasn’t feeling well that day. I could barely keep my eyes open and …”

  Mr. Evans looks at me like he’s trying to weigh my words for truth.

  “I’d like you to get one of your parents to sign this test and then you can return it to me tomorrow.”

  “But … I thought you only did that if kids failed.”

  “I like parents to be aware when there are any out-of-the-ordinary test results, so they can help their kids get back on track. Is that a problem for you?”

  Yes. Because my parents are going to kill me.

  “No. I’ll give it to you tomorrow.”

  Mr. Evans gives me a sympathetic smile.

  “Don’t worry, Abby. You’re a good student. I’m sure you’ll do better next time. And you can always do some extra-credit work to bring your grade up.”

  “Okay, thanks. See you tomorrow.”

  If I’m still alive …

  I’m doing my homework in my room listening to music on Luke’s cell phone with my earbuds in, when Lily comes in. Without knocking, of course. I slide my backpack over the phone so she can’t see it, but forget that my math test was underneath it.

  “Holy crap!!!!” Lily shouts, picking up the test and waving it around. “Amazing Abby got a D on a math test?!!! Dad is going to flip his lid!!”

  I rip the earbuds out and yell at her. “Give it back, you brat! It’s none of your business. What are you doing in here anyway? Get out!”

  “I came to tell you that Mom called and said she’s bringing Chinese food home for dinner. I guess I better call her back and tell her to pick up a side order of whup-ass for you.”

  “Don’t even think about telling her, Lily. I’ll kill you. I really will.”

  Lily tosses the test back on my bed and saunters toward the door.

  “Oooh. I’m soooo scared, D is for Dumbass.”

  I pick up my sneaker and throw it at her, but she’s already turned the corner into the hallway, and anyway, my aim sucks so the sneaker just hits the door frame. She better not tell Mom. It’s bad enough that I have to do it.

  When Mom gets home, I hear her shouting my name almost as soon as she walks in the door, and she sounds seriously pissed.

  I shove the test in my back pocket and go down to the kitchen, where she’s taking the Chinese food out of the plastic bags and putting it on the table.

  “Abigail, I believe you have something to tell me?”

  I know I’m in serious trouble when she calls me Abigail. I’m going to kill Lily, the evil little snitch.

  I take the test out of my pocket and hand it to her. “You have to sign this.”

  She looks at the grade and then stares at me in anger and disbelief.

  “What on earth is going on with you, Abby?”

  “Come on, Mom. Everyone has bad days. Even you.”

  “Don’t you talk back to me, Abby. This is about you. Doing well in school is your job, and getting a D on a test is not part of the job description.”

  “It’s one test. I’ve gotten A’s on all my quizzes and homework assignments in math and —”

  “Well, that’s all the more reason I want to know what’s going on with you. Is it that boy, what’s his name … Bobby?”

  Nice to know my mom is about as clued into my life as Nick Peters.

  “His name’s Billy, and no, it has nothing to do with him.”

  “That’s how it goes with girls your age — you waste all your time mooning over some guy while he’s focusing on his grades and getting into a good college.”

  She is so clueless. How can she lump me with “girls my age”? I’m nothing like them. I get good grades. It’s just one frickin’ D! I’m so mad I can’t stop myself.

  “Is that what happened with you?” I ask her.

  Mom’s always been sensitive because Dad went to Cornell and she went to Albany State. Not that Albany State isn’t a good school or anything, but as long as I can remember, my
parents have both been telling me to work hard so I can get into an Ivy League school like my dad did.

  The flush starts around my mother’s neckline and moves upward until her entire face is bright red.

  “You have just got yourself grounded, missy. And you can hand over that computer of yours. You waste way too much time IM’ing with your friends when you’re supposed to be doing your homework and that’s part of the problem. From now on, I will hand you the computer when I get home from work, and you can do your homework in the kitchen under my supervision.”

  “But, Mom —”

  She holds up her hand to shut me up.

  “Abigail, I don’t want to hear another word out of you right now. Just go upstairs and get me your computer. NOW!”

  “I HATE YOU!” I scream as I stomp up the stairs. I’m so angry that I can hear the blood rushing through my ears. No computer means no video chats with Luke. There’s no way I can chat with him in the kitchen under my mother’s eagle eye, with Lily the Super Snoop hanging over my shoulder. This sucks big-time. I feel like knocking my mother’s china vase over as I come back downstairs clutching my precious laptop to my chest. I’m so glad Luke told me to put the password on it, so at least I know my mom can’t snoop while it’s confiscated.

  I hand it to her without a word, grab the signed test from the kitchen table, and turn to go back upstairs.

  “Abby,” she says as I reach the kitchen door. I stop, but don’t look at her. “Abby, what is going on?”

  “Nothing, except you getting on my case for no reason at all.”

  She starts to say something else, but I ignore her and go back to my room, slamming the door shut behind me. I take the precaution of locking it and then I take Luke’s cell phone out and dial his number. He answers on the third ring.

  “Hey, gorgeous, how’re you doing?”

  I didn’t plan to lose it, but I’m so upset and angry about what’s happened tonight that I burst into tears.

  “Whoa, baby, what’s the matter?”

  “M-my m-mom. She’s such a bitch. I h-hate her!” I hiccup. “S-she t-took m-my computer away.”

  I hear Luke’s quick intake of breath.

  “You put a password on that sucker, right?”

  “Y-yes.”

  “Good … What made her confiscate it?”

  “I got a D on m-my m-math test. My teacher made me get the t-test signed by parents, and my mom totally f-freaked. She s-said that it’s because I’ve been s-spending too much time online.”

  “Man, that’s harsh! What’s her problem? So it’s not because she suspects anything about us?”

  “No, n-nothing like that. In fact, she accused me of m-mooning over Billy, that guy from my science class.”

  “You don’t, do you?”

  “Moon over Billy? Of course not!”

  “Good. ’Cause you’re all mine, baby. Every sweet inch of you.”

  “Don’t worry. I don’t care about Billy. He’s nothing like you, Luke. He’s just … Billy, this kid in my class. But, Luke, I’m scared.”

  “What are you scared about, honey?”

  “My dad’s going to kill me when he gets home. He’s gonna go totally ballistic. He’s like a nut about my grades and everything. And I’ve never messed up like this before.”

  I hear Luke’s laughter in my ear. “Messed up? Getting a D on a test? Wow, he’s really hard on you if that’s considered ‘messing up.’ Think of all the things you could be doing to mess up!”

  “I know, seriously? Like I could be doing drugs or, like, I don’t know, stealing stuff, and I don’t do any of that. I’m like Miss Goody Two-shoes Gets Good Grades except for this one time.”

  “Well, … and I’m just thinking out loud here … maybe you need to teach your parents a lesson.”

  “What do you mean? How?”

  “So, you know you’re saying how you’re the perfect kid all the time and they’re still giving you all this shit?”

  “Yes, but …”

  “Well, what if you actually gave them something to really worry about for a change? Just to put things into perspective.”

  My heart starts beating faster, and my voice drops almost to a whisper.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know I’ve been dying to meet you, Abby. So what if you and I went away on a trip together for a few days? It would … give us a chance to … get to know each other better, and it would teach your parents a lesson about what’s really important. You know, teach your dad that he shouldn’t go ballistic on you just for something stupid like getting a D on a math test. And teach your mom that she needs to accept you for who you are, instead of trying to make you into someone you’re not. ”

  My throat goes dry and I’m not sure I can speak. Meet Luke? Go away with him for a few days?

  His voice continues, low and soothing in my ear. “Baby, you know I would never do anything to hurt you, don’t you? I love you. You’re the most special girl in the world. I hate hearing that your parents are treating you so badly. You deserve better. Forget that, you deserve the best. The best of everything, sweetheart, and I want to give it to you.”

  I feel my heart expanding in my chest, swelling with love from the sound of Luke’s words. No one has ever loved me the way he does. No one has ever seen the real me the way Luke can. I want to cuddle up in his arms and put my head on his chest.

  “So … how would we do that?” I whisper.

  “I could come get you,” he says. “You could pretend to go to school, but then sneak away to … let’s see. Is there a mall you could get to?”

  I think about the possibilities.

  “I could sneak out after homeroom and take a bus to the Galleria.”

  “The Galleria. Let me just look that up online…. Is that the one that’s near the I-84 exit?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Good. So, what time is homeroom, and about what time do you think you’d get to the Galleria?”

  “Homeroom is at seven thirty and …”

  “Wow! I forgot how early they make you get up in high school.”

  “Yeah, right? It’s torture.”

  “Okay, so what time do you think you’d get to the Galleria?”

  “I think maybe eight fifteen. Or maybe eight thirty. But I don’t think it opens till nine thirty.”

  “Well, maybe you should stay in school till later, then. I don’t want my girl hanging around an empty mall. It’s safer if we meet when the mall is crowded.”

  I wonder why it’s safer when the mall is crowded, but I tell Luke I can leave after science and meet him at the mall at eleven thirty.

  “Let’s meet at the food court,” he says. “What’s your favorite place there?”

  “Cookie Madness,” I tell him. “They make the best chocolate chip cookies ever.”

  “Only the best for my best girl,” Luke says. “So. I’ll see you tomorrow, beautiful. At the Galleria, at Cookie Madness. Eleven thirty. If there are any problems, call me or text me, okay?”

  “Okay … Um … what should I pack? Like for how long and stuff?”

  “Just enough clothes for a few days. And don’t worry, baby. If you forget anything, we can stop and buy it.”

  I hesitate for a second, then ask, “Luke … are you sure you’ll recognize me?”

  “Of course, baby! Your beautiful face is engraved on my mind. And I’ll be wearing my Red Sox hat and a leather jacket, so you’ll know it’s me. Don’t walk off with just any guy in a Red Sox hat, okay?”

  I laugh. “Of course I won’t. My mom always taught me not to talk to strangers.”

  He laughs, too.

  “I can’t wait to finally see you, baby. I’ve been dreaming about this.”

  I want to see him, too, but I’m also nervous. Still. My parents deserve it. Luke’s right. They’re being such assholes. Maybe if I just go away with him for a few days, they’ll be more chill when I come back.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 
We hang up and I hide his phone in my backpack again. I’m so glad I have it. Otherwise I would have been so screwed when Mom confiscated my laptop. I would have been totally cut off from my Luke Lifeline. And we never would have been able to arrange this amazing plan.

  I take all my schoolbooks out of my backpack, except for the ones I’ll need for the first few periods. But then I pack some underwear and socks and some T-shirts and a sweater. Tomorrow morning I’ll make sure to pack my toothbrush and toothpaste and some makeup. For Luke, I don’t mind making an effort. For Luke, I actually want to.

  The thought of meeting Luke tomorrow gives me courage when I hear Dad shouting for me to come downstairs.

  I H8 my parents! H8 H8 H8 H8 them!!! I text Luke as soon as I get back to my room after getting bawled out by Dad.

  Dad is such a #$%!

  Can’t wait 2 CU 2morrow! Xo

  I roll up another T-shirt and stuff it into my backpack, then I hear the ping that Luke’s texted me back.

  I can’t wait, either. Send me a pic 2 keep me going.

  By now I know what Luke wants, and I want to make him happy by giving it to him, because he’s the only one who really cares about me. So I take off my shirt and bra, stand in front of the mirror with Luke’s cell phone and, pretending that the mirror is Luke, make like I’m giving it a kiss. I snap a picture and then send it to him, making sure to delete it from the phone as soon as it’s sent. Then I get my bathrobe and get ready to go take a shower. Right before I’m about to unlock my door, he texts back.

  OMG, AbyAngel Ur so hot! U make me hard as a rock, baby.

  Can’t wait 2 kiss u all over …

  I feel weird reading that. All over? Like everywhere? But I love that I can make him so happy just by sending him a picture. It’s so much easier than working my butt off to make my parents happy and having them be mad at me anyway.

  Luke’s phone gets hidden away in my backpack, and I unlock my door to go take a shower. Mom is coming up the stairs, looking like the Grim Reaper.

  “Abigail Victoria, you are grounded for the next two weeks. Your father and I will revisit this at the end of two weeks and see if your grades have picked up and if your behavior has improved. If not, you will stay grounded. Understand?”