Page 16 of Ward D
She’s already in a bad mood. Maybe the study session isn’t a great idea. But I need help for the midterm, and Jade has always been my saving grace. “I have a splinter.”
“Well, who told you to touch the railing?”
Apparently, thereisa rule for Jade’s house now. Do not touch the railing, because you will be impaled by a giant splinter.
“Let me see.” Jade grabs my injured left hand. She squints down at the shard of wood. She plucks it out with her long fingernails as I let out another cry. “Got it! God, you’re such a baby, Amy.”
A drop of blood oozes out of my fingertip, and I suck on it. I wonder if Jade has any Band-Aids at her house.
The screen door is barely hanging on by its hinges, but it doesn’t matter since the screen has been ripped in half. Jade unlocks her front door and the two of us stumble into her living room.
What hits me first is the smell.
Not that Jade’s house ever smelled good exactly. It’s always stunk of a combination of cigarette smoke and Mrs. Carpenter’s perfume. And it definitely smells like those two things today, but there’s something else. Like something rotting, but there’s also a sickeningly sweet undertone to the odor. I don’t know what it is, but I’m not sure how I’m going to be able to focus on math with that stench in the air. I’ll have to breathe through my mouth the whole time.
“What?” Jade says.
“Nothing.”
“You’re making a face.”
It’s hard to hide my reaction. But I can’t very well tell my best friend that her house smells like a big old pile of garbage. “No, I’m not.”
Jade tosses her backpack onto the floor, but I’m hesitant to put my own down. Every spot on the floor is occupied by clothes or books or other junk. I start to put it next to the sofa, but a little pile of dishes is already there. And the top dish still has some old food caked on it. I wonder if Jade will want to bring the dishes to the sink, but she doesn’t seem at all concerned.
Finally, I bring my backpack with me to the sofa, which is the same one that they have had ever since I have known her, and I rest it protectively on my lap. Of course, to sit down, I have to push away a bunch of jackets that are stacked on the sofa. I glance over at the coffee table, which has five ashtrays on it, all of which are stuffed with multiple cigarette butts.
Jade’s house was never exactlyclean, but this is another level. It almost feels like I’m sitting in the middle of a garbage dump. In the back of my head, I wonder if I should say something to my mother. Jade would kill me, but it can’t be okay to live like this.
Can it?
“Let’s get started.” Jade tugs the backpack out of my hands. “You have your notes from today?”
She puts my backpack on the coffee table, and I cringe when it lands in a circle of what looks like some old juice or soda that never got cleaned up. I inhale sharply, and Jade turns to frown at me.
“What?” she says.
“Nothing.”
“Why are you being so weird, Amy?”
“It’s just…” I point at the mystery sticky spot on the coffee table. “I don’t want my bag to get all dirty, you know?”
“Oh myGod.” She rolls her eyes dramatically. “I’m so sorry, yourmajesty. I didn’t realize I had tocleanfor your arrival. Would you like to grab some cleaning fluid and a rag and give the table a once over?”
She’s being sarcastic, but the truth is, I would. I’ve never been a huge sucker for cleanliness, but there’s something about this house that makes me want to grab a vacuum and a mop and just go to town. Just sitting here makes a creeping crawling sensation go up the back of my neck.
And then a fruit fly buzzes past my ear. Then a second one. I wonder if the creeping crawling sensation in my neck is not entirely my imagination.
Before this conversation can escalate into something worse, the front door creaks open and then slams shut, hard enough that the entire foundation of the house seems to shake. I glance up at the ceiling, wondering what the chances are that the roof could collapse on me. Probably not too likely.
“Jade!” It’s Mrs. Carpenter’s raspy voice. “Jade! Where are you?”
Jade swears under her breath. “I’m in here, Mom!”
Mrs. Carpenter stumbles into the living room. Much like the house, she looks worse for wear from the last time I saw her. She has always kept her hair platinum blond, but now she’s got about two inches of dark roots showing. She’s always worn a lot of makeup, especially compared to my own mother, but what she’s wearing now is next level. The mascara is caked on her eyelashes, and her eyelids are shaded with dark blue. The lipstick she’s wearing is meant to make her lips seem fuller, but really, it looks like her lips got painted by a kindergartener who didn’t know how to stay within the lines.
Mrs. Carpenter does a quick double take when she sees me sitting on the couch, and her painted lips set into an angry line. “Jade, who told you you were allowed to invite your friends over to steal my stuff?”
