Heart Like Mine A Novel - By Amy Hatvany Page 0,28
my second text after five, then ten minutes, a cold, hard spot materialized in my belly. I pushed on it, but it didn’t go away. I stared at my phone, squinted my eyes, and willed Mama’s name to appear.
As I waited, I lay on my bed—a futon I’d begged my dad to buy because it looked cool but soon grew to hate because it was hard and I didn’t sleep very well on it. My walls were painted a pale lime green, and my curtains and blankets were lavender. The same colors as my room at my mom’s, which I’d asked for so maybe it wouldn’t feel so weird to live in two houses. It didn’t work. It still felt weird to come here two weekends a month. I loved seeing my dad but hated having to pack a bag, hated leaving my mom alone, and really hated that Grace got to spend more time with my dad than I did. She was always trying to be my friend.
“I’m going to get a pedicure with Melody,” she said to me one Saturday morning. “Would you like to come?”
I shook my head and kept my eyes on the book I was reading. I could be nice to her when she was with my dad, but I didn’t see any reason why I had to spend any time alone with her. She was probably just trying to get my dad to think she was greater than he already did.
“Are you sure?” Grace asked. “They have crazy colors like neon orange and green. You can get any shade you want.” I threw a glance over to my dad, who stood in the kitchen, watching our exchange over the breakfast bar.
“Ava, it’s very nice of Grace to offer to take you to do this,” he said. “It’s a little rude to not accept.”
I sighed and tucked my chin into my chest, burrowing a little deeper into the couch. I didn’t care if it was rude. I didn’t want to go.
“I’ll go!” Max said, piping up from his spot in the recliner across from me. “Can I get black toenails with white skulls painted on them?” I pressed my lips together and glared at him. “What?” he said, blinking at me. “That would be cool.”
Grace laughed and looked over to my dad, who chuckled and shook his head. “I don’t think so, buddy. Grace and Melody want to have some girl time.” He paused. “Ava?”
“I don’t want to, Dad,” I said, pleading. Even from across the room, I saw a quick flash of disappointment on Grace’s face.
“That’s okay,” she said, backing off. “It’s not a big deal. Maybe another time.” She smiled at me, and I couldn’t help but think how pretty she was. “Right, Ava?”
I gave her a quick nod, thinking, Fat chance, but also begrudgingly appreciative that she didn’t push things too much with me. For the most part, she gave me the space I needed. Only now she had shown up at my school out of nowhere and she wasn’t telling us why.
I sighed and sat up, thinking about the stash of candy bars I had hidden in my closet, wondering if Grace would be able to smell it on my breath if I ate one now. She’d probably tell my dad I’d broken his no-sugar-before-dinner rule. My stomach grumbled and I decided I didn’t care. I opened my closet door as quietly as I could, crouching down so I could reach behind a box of Barbie dolls that I didn’t play with anymore. I grabbed a Snickers bar and listened for the front door, hopeful my dad had come home, but there was still just the sound of the television. I ate the candy bar quickly, barely tasting the chocolate as it melted on my tongue. I wondered where Grace was. Hiding in my dad’s bedroom, I guessed. Or at the dining room table typing away on her laptop, which seemed like her favorite thing to do.
A phone rang in another room—the ringtone was Grace’s, some weird Latin-sounding music. As quietly as I could, I opened the door and snuck down to the end of the hall, where Grace and my father slept. Pressing my ear up against the door, I listened hard, but I could only make out one or two words. She was whispering. Something was definitely wrong. The cold spot grew wider in my stomach, spreading up through my chest, down my arms, and to the tips of