job listings on her laptop. “What beach will you be going to?”
“Nauset,” I say quickly.
She nods and goes back to the Web searching. Lying to Mom is easier than I thought. Not the lying part, but that she would believe me so easily. I wait for it but she doesn’t even push and ask me what time I’ll be home.
I race up the stairs to wait for Scarlett to leave. Once she does, I’ll get dressed in my Scarlett-approved outfit.
After I put on a bathrobe, I survey my bedroom. The telescope is packed under my desk hidden behind my empty suitcase, just in case Mom pops in my room. The calendar for the scholarship is there, all filled in, and my application is in its blue folder.
Still, I feel like I’m forgetting something.
It’s just paranoia from stealing clothes and lying to Mom. It’s manifesting itself in guilt. With my hand on the doorknob, I can’t shake the feeling. What the hell am I forgetting?
Shake it off. In sixteen years you’ve never lied to Mom—ever. You always do exactly what you are told.
I shut the door and stand in the stairwell waiting it out so I can go in Scarlett’s room. I’ll change into the second outfit of the Scarlett Experiment.
Scarlett chatters on the cell phone while walking down the stairs. Her Egyptian Musk perfume trails behind her. Once she turns the corner, I tiptoe down to the second floor, curl my fingers around the thick wood of her bedroom door, and sneak inside.
I check my watch: seven fifteen. I snatch a pair of shorts and a white tank top. I race to her bathroom, where I can be concealed behind a closed door. Something else is missing though. I need a little something else to really embody Scarlett. A small bottle of Scarlett’s Egyptian Musk sits on the marble countertop. The oil is specially blended for Scarlett by a store in NYC. The bottle looks like a crystal jewel—I uncork it and roll the oil on my wrists and neck like I’ve seen her do countless times.
“Put it on the pressure points,” she has said with a flip of her hair.
“Who are you going with?” Mom’s voice echoes up the stairs as I lift a leg and lean it on the tub. With my razor in hand, I’m ready to snatch up any stray hairs that may be hiding out on my leg.
“God, Mom. I’m just going with some guys,” Scarlett whines.
“No, Scarlett. Not just some guys. Who?”
“You never ask Bean.”
“We don’t worry about Bean.”
“If you must know . . . Curtis. Remember him? His parents live in Sandwich? His friend Andrew is coming too and he’s going to be a police officer. Is that safe enough for you? He’s only the nicest guy alive. No wait, Andrew can’t go. So it’s Curtis, his harmless friend Tate, and my very innocent friend, Shelby. Is that okay? Do you want their phone numbers? Blood type?”
I smirk and when I catch my reflection in the mirror I cock my head. Andrew isn’t going with them because he’s going out with me. I can’t place it, but I look . . . different. It must be the manicured toes or the outfit I’m wearing. The denim shorts only reach to the top of my thigh. Maybe it’s the Egyptian Musk.
Mom makes Scarlett promise twice that she will check in on her way home. I wait until I hear the sound of the front door closing.
I check myself in the mirror one last time. I could pass for Scarlett with brown hair. Maybe.
When I walk into the living room, Mom has brought her laptop to the table and is eating straight from a vanilla fudge ice-cream container. I clutch a dark blue cardigan near my waist like this will magically prevent Mom from seeing that my shorts come up way too high.
“Where you headed?” she asks with a lick of the spoon. She doesn’t even look at me.
“To Nauset Light,” I say. “Remember?”
“Right, right. You bringing the telescope?” Mom asks.
“No, not tonight.”
“Mmm,” Mom says. “Okay.” She’s absorbed in the job listings. She clearly doesn’t remember the story about the field rehearsal.
“So I’ll see you . . . ,” I say.
In the background, PBS is showing a Moody Blues concert.
“Nights in white satin . . . never reaching the end . . . ,” the TV croons. Last summer I would have been sitting there, eating ice cream with her.
I hide my wrists underneath the