The Pretender - Cora Brent Page 0,11
take a zero for this quiz.”
This isn’t great news but it’s not the end of the world either. I don’t argue. I spend the remainder of the class sitting at my desk with my arms crossed and staring out the window at the snow-topped peak looming over the town.
Camden
Frankie is hunting through the junk drawer in the kitchen when I walk into the room. He quickly shuts the drawer and sits at the table while I pour a glass of orange juice for myself.
“What were you looking for?” I ask him when I take a seat.
My stepbrother pulls the strings of his faded red hoodie and averts his eyes. “Nothing. Just thought maybe there’d be some spare change in there.”
“You don’t need lunch money. It’s Saturday.”
He sighs. “The strap on my wrestling headgear is broken. It’s thirty bucks including tax for a new one. I’ve been skimping on lunch lately so I have twelve. I guess it was dumb to hope there might be eighteen bucks worth of quarters sitting in the drawer.”
I set my glass down. If my dad knew about this he’d hand over the money in a heartbeat but he left for work at the crack of dawn. He’s been picking up all the overtime weekend shifts he can get.
“Wait here.” I hurry off to my room and return with a twenty dollar bill.
“Thanks, Cam.” Frankie is happy to pocket the money at first and then he takes a closer look at the bill. “Did you write on it?”
“No.”
He’s no longer smiling. “It says ‘Happy Birthday, Camden’. This is the money that came in the mail from your grandma the other day.”
“My birthday isn’t for another two weeks. She sent it early because she gets confused.”
He pushes the bill at me. “I can’t take it.”
I push it back at him. “I want you to take it. Just promise me you won’t go without lunch anymore.”
He cooperates but looks miserable. “I’ll pay you back. I was going to try to get a job.”
“You’re only fifteen. Besides, I saw your last report card. You’re barely passing as it is and you won’t be allowed to stay on the wrestling team if you fail. No, I’ll be the one getting a job.”
Frankie raises an eyebrow. “Are you going to work in Black Mountain?”
I roll my chair over to the counter and grab the box of cereal sitting there. “I’d rather find something here in town.”
Frankie looks doubtful. Devil Valley isn’t exactly swimming in employment opportunities. I know I’d have more luck in Black Mountain. In fact the other day I saw a ‘Help Wanted’ sign at the diner a few blocks from school. But the thought of bussing tables for my over-privileged peers makes me want to gag. If I can’t get a job around here then I’ll have no choice. With Adela sick and out of work we don’t have a spare penny. My dad has been valiantly trying to shoulder the burden alone. The one time I brought up a part time job he became upset. He said that I need to stay focused on school and the newspaper and my future rather than working a dead end job for minimum wage. I should have disobeyed him sooner.
Frankie leaves on his mission to find new wrestling headgear. I eat several handfuls of sugary cereal right from the box and think about how Ms. Allen, the guidance counselor, called me down to her office yesterday to remind me that college application deadlines are approaching. Last spring I supplied an impressive list of my dream schools and Ms. Allen is unaware that things have changed. I can’t imagine moving to another state next year. She instructed me to get all my applications submitted by the end of winter break. I promised I would do exactly that. I was lying. The only school I’ve applied to is Eagle State University. It’s not even close to a top tier university and was never on my list of safety school possibilities. It’s a joke at Black Mountain Academy. “You failed the test? HAHA! Say hello to ESU.” But Eagle State has one vital quality in its favor. It’s only sixty miles away from Devil Valley.
The house is quiet and I tiptoe down the hall to look in on Adela. The bed is rumpled and there’s a light underneath the bathroom door. I knock softly and the running water stops.
“It’s me. Frankie had to go out and I’m about to leave too. I’ve got