the Louis is out, but it instantly makes me nervous.
“What are you doing?”
She holds up the folder. “Applying for a job.”
“Here?”
“They’re hiring substitute teachers. I thought I could do that for a few months. See if I like it. I’ve decided to go back to college.”
The hall is starting to clear out. I look around to make sure no one is near us. “Are you serious?”
She looks at me like I just offended her. “What’s wrong with me going to college?”
I didn’t mean to offend her. If she wants to go to college, I’m happy for her. But the last thing I want is for her to test the waters at the school I attend daily. We already can’t get along at home. I can’t imagine potentially having her in class.
I shake my head. “I didn’t mean—” My words are cut off when lips meet my cheek and an arm snakes around my waist.
“I was trying to find you. Where do you go for study period?”
I look at Miller, wide eyed. I look back at my mother. My expression prompts Miller to look from me to my mother. I feel him stiffen, and then he drops his arm to his side. It’s the first time I’ve seen Miller look flustered. He holds out his hand to my mother to formally introduce himself. She just stares at his hand and then looks at me.
Miller starts to mumble an apology. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Grant. I thought you were just one of Clara’s friends. You . . . you look really young.”
My mother is staring daggers at me, ignoring him.
“She is young,” I say to Miller. “She had me when she was seventeen.”
My mother doesn’t miss a beat as she finally addresses Miller. “We’re very fertile women. Be careful.”
Oh my God.
I cover my eyes for a brief moment. I can’t even look at him when I say, “I’ll see you at lunch.”
I can see him nod out of the corner of my eye, and he quickly walks in the opposite direction.
“I can’t believe you just said that to him.”
“You’re dating him now?” she says, motioning over my shoulder. “I thought you said he had a girlfriend.”
“He broke up with her.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I knew you wouldn’t like it.”
“You’re right—I don’t.” She’s raising her voice now. I’m relieved the hallway is empty. “Since the day you started hanging out with him, you’ve skipped out on your father’s funeral, you’ve done drugs, you’re never home, you’re late for curfew. He’s not good for you, Clara.”
I don’t want to argue with her right now. But she couldn’t be more wrong about him. It makes me angry that she’s placing my behavior on a guy, rather than on the fact that maybe the few bad decisions I’ve made have been a result of what happened forty-five days ago. That’s had way more of an effect on me than a boyfriend—knowing my texts to Aunt Jenny are what caused this entire terrible situation to begin with.
“I know nothing about what’s going on in your life. You tell me nothing.”
I roll my eyes. “Now that Aunt Jenny isn’t here to tell you every little secret?”
Her anger gives way to an expression of shock, like she honestly didn’t think I was aware Aunt Jenny used to tell her everything. Then she just looks angry. Hurt.
“Why do you think she told me everything, Clara? It’s because all the advice she ever gave you came from me. She’s spent the last five years cutting and pasting texts I wrote, and then she’d send them to you and pretend they were hers.”
“That’s not true,” I snap.
“It is true. So stop treating me like I don’t know what’s best for you or that I have no clue what I’m talking about.”
What she’s saying about Aunt Jenny isn’t true.
And even if it were . . . even if my mother was the one to relay most of the advice Jenny gave me, why would she ruin that for me? Jenny is never coming back thanks to me, and my mother just took the one thing I cherished most about my aunt and threw it in a blender and fed it to me.
I hate that I feel like I’m about to cry. I’m so angry with her. At myself. I turn around to walk away before I say something that will get me grounded, but my mother grips my arm.
“Clara.”
I yank my arm from her hand. I spin and take a lunging step