“That’s what I thought,” she said. Then she kissed me on the cheek and ran out of the car and into her house.
So that’s how we broke up. If I’m going to be completely honest, I’l admit that it was a relief not to have to think about Mara anymore. The only person I had room in my head for was my mom.
When I got home, my mom and Laurel were stil up playing cards and listening to music. For the first time in days, I heard my mom laugh.
Laurel didn’t leave the next day. She stayed al week. At the time, I didn’t wonder about her job, or al the other stuff she had going on at home. I was just grateful to have an adult around.
chapter thirty-eight
The three of us walked back to the house. The sun was hot on my back and I thought about how nice it would be to lay out on the beach for a while, to sleep the afternoon away and wake up tan. But there wasn’t any time for that, not when we needed to get Conrad ready for his midterms by tomorrow.
When we got inside, Conrad fel onto the couch and Jeremiah sprawled out on the floor. “So tired,” he moaned.
What my mother did for us, for me, was a gift. Now it was my turn to give one back. “Get up,” I said.
Neither of them moved. Conrad’s eyes were closed. So I threw a pil ow at Conrad and jabbed Jeremiah in the stomach with my foot. “We have to start studying, you lazy bums. Now get up!”
Conrad opened his eyes. “I’m too tired to study. I need to take a power nap first.”
“Me too,” Jeremiah said.
Crossing my arms, I glared at them and said, “I’m tired too, you know. But look at the clock; it’s already one. We’re gonna have to work al night and leave real y early tomorrow morning.”
Shrugging, Conrad said, “I work best under pressure.”
“But—”
“Seriously, Bel y. I can’t work like this. Just let me sleep for an hour.”
Jeremiah was already fal ing asleep. I sighed. I couldn’t fight the both of them.
“Fine. One hour. But that’s it.”
I stalked into the kitchen and poured myself a Coke. I was tempted to take a nap too, but that would be setting the wrong example.
While they slept, I kicked the plan into gear. I got Conrad’s books out of the
car, brought his laptop downstairs, and set up the kitchen like a study room.
I plugged in lamps, stacked books and binders according to subject, put out pens and paper. Last, I brewed a big pot of coffee, and even though I didn’t drink coffee, I knew mine was good, because I brewed a pot for my mother every morning. Then I took Jeremiah’s car and drove to McDonald’s to pick up cheeseburgers. They loved McDonald’s cheeseburgers. They used to have cheeseburger-eating contests and they’d stack them up like pancakes.
Sometimes they let me play too. One time, I won. I ate nine cheeseburgers.
I let them sleep an extra half hour—but only because it took me that long to get things set up. Then I fil ed up Susannah’s spray bottle, the one she’d used to water her more delicate plants. I sprayed Conrad first, right in the eyes.
“Hey,” he said, waking up right away. He wiped his face with the bottom of his T-shirt, and I gave him another spray just because.
“Rise and shine,” I sang.
Then I walked over to Jeremiah and sprayed him, too. He didn’t wake up though. He had always been impossible to wake up. He could sleep through a tidal wave. I sprayed and sprayed and when he just rol ed over, I unscrewed the top of the bottle and poured the water right down the back of his T-shirt.
He final y woke up and stretched his arms out, stil lying down on the floor.
He gave me a slow grin, like he was used to being woken up this way.
“Morning,”
he said. Jeremiah might have been hard to wake up, but he was never a grouch when he final y did.
“It’s not morning. It’s almost three o’clock in the afternoon. I let you guys sleep an extra half an hour so you better be grateful,” I snapped.
“I am,” Jeremiah said, reaching his arm out for me to help him up. I grudgingly gave him my hand and helped heft him up. “Come on,” I said.
They fol owed me into the kitchen.
“What the—,” Conrad said, looking around the room at al his things.
Jeremiah clapped his hands together and then he held one hand up for a high five, which I gave him. “You’re amazing,” he said. Then he sniffed and spotted the greasy white McDonald’s bag and lit up. “Yes! Mickey D’s cheeseburgers! I’d know that smel anywhere.”
I smacked his hand away. “Not yet. There is a reward system in place here.
Conrad studies, and then he gets food.”
Jeremiah frowned. “What about me?”
“Conrad studies, and you get food.”
Conrad raised his eyebrows at me. “A reward system, huh? What else do I get?”
I flushed. “Just the cheeseburgers.”
His eyes flickered over me appraisingly, like he was trying to decide whether or not he wanted to buy a coat. I could feel my cheeks heat up as he looked at me.
“As much as I like the sound of a reward system, I’m gonna pass,” he said at last.
“What are you talking about?” Jeremiah asked.
Conrad shrugged. “I study better on my own. I’ve got it covered. You guys can go.”Jeremiah shook his head in disgust. “Just like always. You can’t handle asking for help. Wel , sucks to be you, ’cause we’re staying.”
“What do you guys know about freshman psych?” Conrad said, crossing his arms.
Jeremiah sprang up. “We’l figure it out.” He winked at me. “Bel s, can we eat first? I need grease.”
I felt like I had won a prize. Like I was invincible. Reaching into the bag, I said, “One each. That’s it.”
When Conrad’s back was turned, as he was rummaging around the cupboard for Tabasco sauce, Jeremiah held his hand out for another high five. I slapped it silently and we grinned at each other. Jeremiah and I were a good team, always had been.
We ate our cheeseburgers in silence. As soon as we were done, I said, “How do you want to do this, Conrad?”
“Seeing as how I don’t want to do this at al , I’l let you decide,” he said. He had mustard on his lower lip.
“Okay, then.” I was prepared for this. “You’l read. I’l work on note cards for psych. Jeremiah wil highlight.”
“Jere doesn’t know how to highlight,” Conrad scoffed.
“Hey!” Jeremiah said. Then, turning to me, he said, “He’s right. I suck at highlighting. I just end up highlighting the whole page. I’l do note cards and you highlight, Bel s.”
I ripped open a pack of index cards and handed them to Jeremiah.
Incredibly enough, Conrad listened. He picked his psych textbook out of the stack of books and he started to read.
Sitting at the table, studying with his forehead creased, he looked like the old Conrad. The one who cared about things like exams and ironed shirts and being on time. The irony of al this was that Jeremiah had never been much of a student.
