Page 62 of Intermission
“You seem pretty grounded.” Ryan leans back and rests his arm on the booth’s ledge, behind Danielle. An ornery smile flicks at the corners of his mouth. “Especially for only being nineteen. Not many kids your age could make it through the Ryan Prescott Boyfriend Screening Process.” He laughs, adding, “Then again, who am I kidding? I know very few guysmyage who could take it! In fact, I’m not sure I’d even be here right now if Danielle’s brother had done that to me.”
“You’re terrible.” I give him a stern but fake scowl, even though I want to hug him for taking the conversation away from the dangerous direction it was headed.
“But I’m thorough.” He winks at me and then grins at Noah. “You passed the test for now, but...” He shrugs. “We’ll see.”
“In other words, if I hurt your little sister, you’ll hunt me down and break my kneecaps, right?”
“More like skin you alive and experiment with vivisection,” Ryan says. “Keep in mind, I’m a doctor. I have the tools and the skills to do it, too.”
“That is, hands down, the most disgusting thing you have ever said.” Danielle swats Ryan’s arm. “And I had to listen to your account of a bowel obstruction surgery last week, so that’s saying a lot.”
“People eating food here.” I shudder. “Enough with the nasty medical stuff.”
“Well, at least I know where I stand,” Noah says, grinning at Ryan.
The conversation turns, but I have a hard time concentrating against the refrain ofhe’s leaving, he’s leaving, he’s leavingpounding against my heart.
The week after returning fromLes Misérablesfinds Noah swamped, working around his midterm exams. We have phone contact, of course, but it’s not the same. Luckily, my own teachers pile on enough end-of-the-quarter homework to keep me busy while we’re apart.
I’m elbows-deep in a Physics assignment—literally, since I’m lying on my stomach on the living room floor with papers all around me and my textbook open. Mom and Dad are at some medical symposium or something, and Gretchen is home for spring break, keeping watch over the house.
In other words, me.
We’ve been doing our best to ignore each other, but when she plants herself in my direct line of sight and expels that huffylook at me!breath, I oblige.
“What.”
Her purse is slung over her shoulder, and she’s holding a small bunch of grapes in her hand. “I’m running into town to get some ice. You need to have this mess cleaned up by the time I get back, got it?” She pops a grape into her mouth.
“Why? And it’s not a mess, it’s homework.”
“I don’t care what it is, get rid of it. You need to clear out tonight. I’m having some friends over.”
“It’s Tuesday.”
“So? I’m on spring break, baby. Every day is Saturday!”
“I still have Western Civ homework after this and an English Lit test on Thursday. I need to study. Can’t you and your friends go somewhere else?”
“Nobody else’s parents are out of town.” Gretchen sorts through the collection of books on the table. “Fahrenheit 451. I rememberthat one. Very depressing.” She sets it aside and then picks up my little pink Bible. “Hey, that’s mine!” She opens it to the presentation page. “Oh. Guess not. I used to have one just like this. I got it from my Sunday School teacher, I think.”
Gretchen tosses it on top of my open Physics textbook. I let out a huff and move it to the side.
“Mom said you were getting religion all of a sudden. You’re doing a Bible study on Wednesday nights or something?”
I nod. “At Fellowship Community Church.”
“Why? Never mind. Don’t care.” Gretchen shrugs. “Mom thinks it’s a phase. Like when I dyed that blue streak in my hair for Homecoming school spirit.”
“It’s not a phase.” Could this familybeany more messed up?
“Whatever. Look, you need to get your stuff cleared out, okay? My friends are gonna be here soon.”
“But I need to study!”
“And you can. Anywhere but here. I could be drinking daiquiris in Cancun right now, but Mom decided you needed some adult supervision while she and Dad are gone. Apparently, you have a newfriendshe’s worried about. A boy.” Gretchen crosses her arms and gives me a wicked half-smile. “And she wants me to keep all the bad boys away from sweet little Faithy-waithy.”
“Then stop inviting your creepy friends over. Problem solved.”
