Page 18 of Enemy Crush
Hamish’s ears perked up and I sighed in relief as I heard steady footsteps coming down the lane. Quinn was jogging. I melted back into the walls, not wanting to be seen. Hamish barked but I didn’t wait around to see if she looked over, slipping back inside, a weight off of my shoulders.
“You all right?” Dad asked, standing at the kitchen sink rinsing out his coffee mug.
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” I tried to sound nonchalant but my heart was racing.
“Just saw the Devereaux girl running up her driveway,” he said with a puzzled frown. “What’s she doing running around at this time of the night?”
“How would I know?” I snapped back.
I regretted my surly reply when Dad’s eyebrows rose and he looked at me with curiosity, “What’s eating you?”
It was too complicated to say how I’d been worried about her out walking alone because it was impossible to explain my feelings. I had to remember Quinn and her mother were the enemy. They didn’t think we were good enough to belong in their neighborhood and I shouldn’t forget that.
“Did I tell you her crazy mother drove into our trash can?” Dad said.
“Huh?”
“Yeah, just after you took Hamish out. I was in the garage and heard her car. She was all over the road like she was drunk. Knocked the dang bin over.”
“What?” I asked in disbelief. “Did she break it?”
“No, but she gave it a decent knock. Thought I told you to bring it in before your run?”
“I forgot.”
“Hmmm, I gathered that,” Dad said on a weary sigh.
I worried about Dad. He worked 50 hour weeks and did overtime on a Saturday when it was available. When he wasn’t working, he was with Mase and me, working on the car or fixing things around the house. He didn’t socialize or go out with friends. He said he was content taking care of us and Hamish, but Mom had left us ten years ago and he’d never had a relationship.
Mason didn’t remember Mom, and my memories were pretty hazy now. Physically, I remembered her long wavy brown hair and her brown-framed glasses and that she always wore dangly earrings and loads of necklaces and bracelets, but the sound of her voice had faded. I wondered if I would recognize it if she called me.
Not that I expected her to. She was long gone from our lives, a small town, family life and motherhood apparently not for her. Dad would get emails from her but I never wanted to hear about her and would leave the room if he started to read it out loud. In my mind, she abandoned us and more specifically Mason, who was just a baby. For that, I doubted I could ever forgive her.
The next morning, Mason was on a mission to get to school, foregoing his reading to eat breakfast quickly, packing his schoolbag and declaring he was ready to go well before time.
“What’s the rush?” I asked, lingering at the kitchen sink with my eye on the window. “Getting to the bus stop early won’t make us get to school any faster.”
“Yeah, I’m just ready,” he said, jittery with impatience.
Noticing he’d brushed his hair, I assumed it was something to do with seeing Katie, and for his sake, I grabbed my backpack and followed him.
Lining up with Mason, my heart thumped as Quinn came hurtling down the street at a quick pace.
On entering the bus, a girl from the back spoke, “Hey, look who’s running late.” Someone giggled in response and I thoughtnothing of it until we were seated. I sat a row behind Mason, leaving room for Katie, while the twins sat behind me.
Quinn was the last one on, her cheeks reddened by her hurried arrival. She stumbled as the bus lurched forward before she had time to sit. Passing along the aisle, I deliberately kept my eyes downcast, staring at my phone.
It was several stops later that a loud voice boomed from behind me. “Hey, wonder what happened to her car?”
“Probably doesn’t want to park in the school parking lot,” someone answered.
“Yeah, no valet parking.” Snarky laughter rang out.
My ears strained as I waited for Quinn to respond but it was a boy further back in the bus who joined in. “Must be such a let down, taking the schoolbusssss,” he said.
“Guess the chauffeur isn’t working this week...what a shame.” More giggles.
Strangely, my chest tightened, hit by a sense of obligation that I should stand up and say something, defend her. But this wasn’t my issue. Heck, Quinn was a big girl, and I was sure she could take care of herself.
