Page 44 of The Lake of Lost Girls

I started to stand up, smiling at my sister, but then Mom stepped between us. “Not today, Lindsey-Bug, Jessica has studying to do.”

Mom took Lindsey’s hand and started to lead her from the room. She looked back at me over her shoulder. “Remember what Albert Einstein said,once you stop learning, you start dying.Get to work. You’ll thank me later.” She looked pointedly at the books on my desk.

I didn’t bother to say anything. What would be the point?

After she left, I jumped up and dug out the grade slip I had picked up from the registrar’s office before coming home in December. I looked at the list of classes and the corresponding grades.

I was close to blowing it. If I didn’t get my crap together, I would flunk out of college. What would Mom say to that?How would my mother survive the complete annihilation of all her hopes and expectations?

I should have felt worried. I should have felt guilty. I should have felt anything other than a complete and total emptiness. It was hard to care about something that was quickly becoming less and less important.

I crumpled the paper in my hand, but instead of throwing it away, I hurried to my closet, pushing my clothes aside, revealing the tiny, barely visible cut out in the drywall I had made when I was twelve and wanted to hide candy from my health-conscious mother.

I popped it open and shoved my grades into the cavity on top of a few pictures I had already placed there when I got home. Photographs of a Jessica that my mother would never approve of, yet I wanted to remember all the same.

I pulled the ring from my father out of my pocket and thought about putting it in the wall. Leaving it there with all the other things I didn’t want discovered. I hadn’t been wearing it on my finger, yet I continued to carry it in my pocket. Unwilling to let go of the memory of how things used to be.

But I couldn’t do it. I gritted my teeth and jammed it back in my pocket. Looking at it enraged me. It filled me with an acidic anger that incinerated everything in its wake. But I couldn’t part with it—not yet.

I put the piece of dry wall back and shoved a pile of old books in front of it to hide it from my mother’s prying eyes. Satisfied, I left the closet and closed the door. Figuring I’d make an effort to do what my mother expected, I sat down at my desk, opened a book, and pretended to study.

I woke up with a start. The phone on my bedside table was ringing. I wiped drool from my chin and sat up, grabbing the receiver before my mom could answer it.

“Hello?”

I looked tiredly at the open text book I had been using as a pillow.

“Jess! Oh my god, I miss you so much!” My roommate’s shrill voice rang in my ear.

“Hey, Daisy, how are you?” I had spoken to Daisy a few times since being home. She seemed to have gotten over the momentary weirdness resulting from our almost-disagreement in the Commons. She carefully avoided mentioning Tammy and Phoebe or any of her paranoid suspicions. It had become a topic we resolutely didn’t talk about. And I appreciated it. I valued Daisy’s friendship. The last thing I wanted was to alienate her.

“Ugh, I’m so ready to get back to school. My parents are driving me nuts,” she complained. I could hear kids screaming in the background, people laughing, glasses tinkling.

“Sounds like you’re in the middle of a party,” I laughed.

“No, that’s how my house soundsallthe time. Being the oldest of five kids means not having a moment’s peace, ever. Hang on a sec.” I could hear the sound of fabric rustling then a door closing. “Okay, I’ve hidden in the pantry. I should have all of three minutes before one of my demon siblings comes looking for me—or a snack.”

“I’m guessing your Christmas break hasn’t been very relaxing,” I surmised.

“Are you kidding me? My aunt and uncle decided to visit from New Mexico, and they brought their two year old twins. Our house is cramped enough without adding that chaos. Then my grandparents flew in from Guadeloupe, so I was kicked out of my room and have been forced to sleep on the couch.” Daisy sounded perturbed.

I couldn’t imagine having such a large family. Both of my parents were only children, so I had never had cousins to play with. My mom’s dad passed away before I was born and her mom not long after my first birthday. Dad’s parents lived on the other side of town. We saw them occasionally, but they were the kind of people that mostly kept to themselves. They weren’t particularly interested in being grandparents. So, it had only ever been Mom, Dad, and me until Lindsey was born.

“Please tell me you’ve been doing something fun while you’ve been home. Orsomeone?” I could practically hear her raising her eyebrows.

“Sorry to disappoint you, Daisy, but all I’ve been doing is sleeping and eating too much food. Though there’s been a wild game of Monopoly or two.”

“I suppose there’s not much to do in good ol’ Mt. Randall,” Daisy commiserated. “But girl, do yourself a favor and get out of your house. Too much family time isn’t good for anybody. But—”

“What?”

“Just be careful, okay.”

I wanted to scream.

“Daisy …”

“I know, I know. I have to say it. I know you think I’m being ridiculous.” This time her laughter was full of forced cheer that was painful to listen to.

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