You'll have to do better.
I don't lip- read." He scribbled furiously.
"Lyer" said his paper.
I took his pencil, and wrote, "liar." Then I gave him back his notebook, and said, "You want to bet?" He clutched his notebook to his chest and stalked off.
I liked him.
He reminded me of me.
Fifteen minutes later his mother barged in.
"Red or purple?" she asked me, still sounding frantic.
"Come with me." Bewildered, I followed her down the hall and into the master bedroom suite, where she'd laid out two dresses.
"I only have five minutes before I have to put the rolls in," she said.
"Red or purple?" The purple had considerably more fabric.
"Purple," I said.
"Do you have shoes I can borrow, too? Or do you want me to go barefoot?" She gave me a wild-eyed look.
"Shoes I have, but not nylons." "Amber," I told her.
"I will put on high heels for you.
And I will wear a dress.
But you aren't paying me enough to wear nylons.
My legs are shaved and tan, that'll have to do." "We can pay you.
How much do you want?" I looked but couldn't tell if she was joking or not.
"No charge," I told her.
"That way I can leave when things get scary." She didn't laugh.
I was pretty sure Amber used to have a sense of humor.
Maybe.
"Look," I told her.
"Take a deep breath.
Find the shoes for me, and go put your rolls in the oven." She did take a deep breath, and it seemed to help.
When I went back to my room, Chad was there again with his notebook.
He was staring at the walking stick on my bed.
I hadn't brought it with me, but it had come anyway.
I wished I could ask it what it wanted from me.