Page 113 of Dear Rockstar (Dear Rockstar 1)

I snorted, rolling my eyes, but didn’t reply.

“And he’s very loyal. He stays with us. He takes care of us.”

That was too much.

“Oh right,” I snorted. “So loyal, he’d steal from your own brother?”

“He didn’t steal.” She ticked things off her list as she moved up the aisle. “Besides, my brother can’t prove anything …”

“Are you kidding me?” I nearly screamed. An old woman stocking up on pasta glared at us. “My God, Mother, what are you, some sort of robot? He feeds in the information and you spit it right back out? What happened to your ability to think for yourself?”

“What do you mean?” She blinked, looking at me doubtfully.

“Never mind, Mom.” I sighed, shaking my head. “Just… never mind.”

At least the stepbeast had left me completely alone since I went off on him.

The checkouts were packed with people. It was a Saturday afternoon and everybody was out shopping. We had to wait half an hour before we got up to the cashier. I began loading things up onto the conveyer belt. When I was through, I moved the cart to the end so the bagger could load it with groceries.

“That comes to ninety dollars and thirty-sex cents,” the cashier, a short blonde girl who snapped her gum and whose name tag read ‘Tammi,’ said impatiently. I thought I remembered her from high school. She’d been a year behind us, which would make her a senior this year.

“Oh.” My mother sounded surprised and I looked over, seeing for the first time what she held in her hands. It was a book of food stamps. I’d seen them often enough when we were on welfare, but it had been so long, it didn’t register at first. My heart plummeted when I recognized the booklet and my mouth felt dry.

“I only have eighty dollars here,” my mother said quietly. “Sara, hand me those packages of broccoli and corn. I have enough vegetables in the freezer to last me.”

I got them just before the bagger did and I offered him a weak smile of apology. His name was Danny and he’d been in my World Lit class my junior year. Tammi took them off the order.

“That’ll be eighty-eight twenty-nine.” Tammi snapped her gum, looking impatiently at my mother. The people behind us were watching with disgusted interest.

“Sara, hand me the peanut butter and the coffee,” my mother said. This time Danny handed them to me personally. My throat felt tight. Tammi took those off the order. Her gum snapping was beginning to grind on my nerves.

“That’s seventy-nine forty-nine,” she said impatiently. “Come on, lady, we don’t have all day. I have other paying customers waiting.”

“Here.” My mother, turning a paler shade of white, gave her the eighty-dollars in food stamps. I grabbed the cart and started out of the store. My cheeks felt as if they were on fire.

“There.” My mother caught up to me in the parking lot. “That was taken care of easily enough.”

I didn’t say anything and kept on walking.

John opened the door and I almost fell on top of him. I’d been pounding on it for what felt like forever.

“Is Dale here?” I panted.

“He’s in his room. Are you okay?”

“I’m great!” I cried over my shoulder. “I’m fantastic!”

He shut the door, calling after me, “You staying for dinner? Fresh catfish!”

“Sounds great!” I called back, bursting through Dale’s door.

“Hey!” He smiled when he saw me standing there.

“Dale!” I cried, throwing my arms wide, beaming. “Guess what?”

“What?” He was sitting bare-chested on his bed, staring at me, guitar poised in mid-air, and normally I would have immediately jumped him just on principle, but I was too excited—I could barely breathe.

“I’m going to Maine!” I shook the envelope at him, in case he’d missed it. “I placed! I placed!”

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