Page 61 of The Color of Grace

“What happened yesterday?” Ryder asked from his lounge by our feet.

Both Todd and I ignored him. I made my eyes narrow even more until the slits were as thick as a piece of paper and I could barely see. The corners of my jaws bulged as I clenched my teeth. “Oh, today you’re sorry, huh? Well, that makes things so much better, after Mrs. Gruber has already called my mother and told her everything she saw.”

This time, I bulldozed by him, jostling the side of his arm as I escaped. Since my locker was only about ten feet away, it wasn’t hard for him to follow me as I marched to my cubby and began to work the combination.

With my back to him, I couldn’t see his face, but I heard the humble tenor in his voice as he asked, “Did you get grounded?”

I kept my spine to him until I had all the books I needed for first hour, then I slowly shut the locker and veered around to look up into Todd’s wincing expression.

I wanted to lie and say yes so bad. Make him feel rotten for compromising me. But I never had been able to make a good poker face, so I sighed and grumbled, “No. It was worse. I got a freaking lecture and the third degree.”

Todd’s face relaxed; he even smiled. But I continued to glower, so I think he finally caught on that I wasn’t going to forgive him any time soon. He mumbled another apology before bowing his head and slumping off. As I glared after him, I caught sight of Ryder watching us from his spot on the floor, Kiera still snoozing in his lap. He looked smug, probably happy his best friend and I were on the outs.

Transferring my gaze to him, I felt tempted to stick out my tongue and blow a raspberry, but my scowl seemed to settle him down and wipe the smirk off his expression sufficiently enough.

I spent that school day, and pretty much the rest of that week, hanging out with Laina. She didn’t show a liking or disliking for much of anything, but she was a good listener, so I told her a lot about the nerd herd. I’d finally received an email from Bridget on Wednesday. Adam had indeed visited; I’d tried to call her house the night before, but they’d been on their first date. She hadn’t written much but sounded excited because Adam was coming over and she wanted to clean her room. So she signed off after a few lines.

I’m not sure what had become of Schy. I didn’t hear anything from her.

The situation with my mother never improved.

I was honest when I told Todd I hadn’t been grounded, but I set up my own punishment of sorts. As soon as I would arrive home from school, I buried myself away in my room and didn’t come out except when I had to. Mom had never grounded me before; she probably didn’t even know she could. I was grateful to maintain full use of my computer and cell phone, though I didn’t use much of either since I’d lost all contact with my old friends and I was trying to avoid the new ones.

Little did I know Mom had something much more devastating in mind than a mere, irrelevant grounding.

That Friday afternoon, I found her car parked at the curb, exhaust clouds puffing out the back pipe as I exited the school soon after last period let out. I frowned, surprised to see her, and slowed to a stop. When she caught sight of me and waved through the front windshield, I hurried toward the passenger side door.

“What’re you doing here?” I asked as I opened up and slid into the warm seat.

Mom waited for a car and bus to pass, then pulled out into traffic before she answered. “We’re going to a doctor’s appointment.”

I blinked.

A doctor’s appointment?

Heart dropping into the base of my spine, I sat stiffly and stared out the window at the houses and buildings we passed. My mother had a doctor’s appointment and she wanted me to come along?

This couldn’t be good. Though it had to be fifty degrees warmer inside the car than it was outside, my body froze solid inside my dad’s logging jacket.

What was wrong with my mommy?

I felt nauseated. Physically ill. Every vile word and dirty look I’d sent her in the past few weeks piled on top of my shoulders. I’d been so nasty, so rude, and all this time she’d been sick, maybe dying? My throat went dry and tears prickled my eyes, but I swallowed them back. All that anger I’d felt toward her suddenly seemed so petty and selfish.

I wanted to demand she tell me what was wrong, but I didn’t feel I had the right. If I’d known something was wrong with her, I never would’ve been such a brat. I never—

I closed my eyes tight against the panic and fisted my hands in my lap.

My mother was okay, she was fine, I repeated to myself. She would’ve told me if something was really wrong. She would’ve said something. No, if anything, today was probably just a few tests. They’d come out normal, and everything would be okay again. I was flying off the handle for no reason.

Still, my nerves continued to clench with worry and my hands remained icicles fisted inside my gloves.

We drove all the way to Yancy, a larger town with a medical district that held specialized clinics. As we passed the cancer center, relief left my lungs in a grateful sigh. At least I didn’t have to worry about cancer. But then Mom went and pulled into a parking lot that made me sit up in alarm. We’d come to a gynecologist’s office.

Maybe it was cancer, after all. Breast cancer, possibly. Or uterine cancer? A woman’s health doctor could cover so many problems. And no wonder Mom had never mentioned her ailment to me before. She was probably too embarrassed.

I quietly followed her up the sidewalk and into the warm bu

ilding. Mom motioned me toward a waiting room chair. Numbly, I turned and slumped to the nearest seat, glancing around in the vain hope of filling my attention with something other than fear.

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