Page 89 of Something Rad
Another pause. “I’ll let him know.”
“Thanks so much, Mrs. Summers–”
The line goes dead, her hanging up.
Oh well. I don’t even care that Robbie’s mother seems to be just as pleasant as he is. I’m off the hook. At least for another hour. And I’ll honestly take anything I can get. I’m not ready to see him yet. I’m still processing the mess that was Saturday night and all of the emotions (expected and…not so expected) that came out of it.
I hang the phone up just as my mom appears from her bedroom. This is one of the rare mornings she doesn’t have a double shift at the diner and is actually here. “Good morning, hon,” she says. “Who was that?”
“Nobody,” I say, closing the phonebook and sneaking it back into the kitchen drawer. “Telemarketer.”
“Gross,” Mom says, pulling the orange juice out of the fridge.
I spin around to face her. “Agreed,” I nod.
She pours herself a glass of juice, taking a sip.
“Hey, Mom?”
“Yeah, hon?” she replies.
“Would you mind taking me to school this morning?”
Mom smiles, her eyes lighting up. “I thought you’d never ask.” She sets down her glass. “Let me just get some shoes on.”
* * *
Mom and I pull up to the school in her old station wagon fifteen minutes later. It’s quite a bit before Robbie usually gets to school, but I do a quick scan of the parking lot anyways. My shoulders instantly relax when I see his car isn’t here yet.
“Your chariot has arrived,” Mom says, motioning dramatically with her hand as she stops the car.
I chuckle, taking my compact mirror and red lipstick out of the front pocket of my backpack. “Thanks for bringing me,” I say.
“Anytime, honey. Well, anytime I can, at least.”
I finish applying my lipstick, pressing my lips together a few times before returning the tube and compact to my bag. “I appreciate it,” I say, smiling at my mom.
“I swear we never get to spend any time together anymore,” she says. “I’m sorry about that.”
“It’s okay, Mom,” I insist. “You’re working a lot. I have school and work. Things are busy. I don’t blame you for it.”
“But still,” she says, brushing my hair out of my eyes. “I feel so disconnected from you lately. What’s new?”
I open my mouth to answer, but my eyes instantly shift over my mom’s shoulder at the unmistakable sound ofBon Jovitearing its way into the parking lot.
“Absolutely nothing,” I reply, frantically reaching for the door handle. “Sorry, Mom, but I have to go. I have some, um, homework to get done before class starts.”
Mom’s brows pull together. “Oh, okay, hon. Well, have a nice day. I’m thinking of making lasagna for dinner–”
“Sounds fantastic. I love you so much. Thanks again. Bye, Mom,” I sputter, stumbling out of the car and slamming the door shut just as Robbie pulls into his parking place. I instantly spin on my heel, walking as quickly as I can towards the front door of the school.
I glance over my shoulder, seeing Robbie stepping out of his Camaro and securing his Walkman on his hip. I swivel my head back forward, increasing my speed, trying my best to be subtle.
I reach the steps and nearly jog up them.Were there always this many?I reach the top and find a bit of a traffic jam as several people are trying to walk in and out of the doors at the same time.
Don’t look, Sara. Don’t look, I think to myself.
I look.
