Solstice (8 page)

I pat the sofa beside me, and my mom sits back down.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I shouldn’t get so upset.”

“Yeah, mom, you should. If there’s anything worth getting upset about it’s the fact that they’re killing the earth.” Not about tattoos, I think to myself, but I leave that unsaid. “So what are you going to do about it?”

My mom studies me. Her eyes scan over me from the gash in my hair to deep into my soul. And then she finally answers. “There’s nothing I can do, Piper. I think we just need to resign ourselves to our fate.”

It’s a peculiar answer considering she just told me she didn’t believe in fate. And something about the way she looks away makes me think she’s keeping something from me. Like maybe she has some sort of idea how to fix things that I’m not privy to.

I suddenly let out a yawn I don’t even know I’ve been keeping in and realize I can hardly keep my eyes open.

“You’re tired, Piper Rose.”

I nod and curl into her embrace. My eyelids are reminding me I didn’t sleep last night.

We sit in silence, and the wine does its job, relaxing me, calming me. Here, with my mom’s arms around me, I believe things are once again as they should be. And with her accepting my tattoo, I believe she will actually let me make more choices in my life.

“You’d never leave me, would you, Piper?”

Her words reach my ears clearly, but it takes a second for my brain to process them.

“What?”

She rubs my arm, and holds me closer. “You’re all I have, Piper. You’re everything to me.” Her hands stop rubbing and press into my shoulder. “I’d die without you.”

All at once, every muscle which the wine had previously relaxed tenses up. And I realize my mom will never let me make my own choices. “Why would you ask that, Mom?”

As if she’s caught herself, her hand starts rubbing again. “I just want you to know how much I love you, Piper.”

I try to settle back into her arms, but my muscles still feel tight. “I know you love me, Mom.”

“I do, Piper.”

I don’t respond. There’s nothing to say.

“And you’ll never leave me, will you, Piper?”

Her question makes me want to run away and leave her right then. To open the door and never come back. “Of course not, Mom.”

“I’m glad, Piper.”

I’m about to drift off when my mom’s voice stirs me.

“There’s one more thing, Piper.”

“What?”

She gets up and walks over to one of the cabinets, and when I notice her hands shaking, I sit up. She opens the door and gets something and sets it on the coffee table in front of me. It’s my box. The one Melina gave me. My face freezes, and I stare at her. I’m wide awake now.

“Where did you get this?” She asks it slowly, not taking her eyes off me.

I hold her gaze. Sure, I’ve hidden the box, but I haven’t done anything wrong. “It was a present.” I look at the box, reach over for it, but she pulls it away.

“A present from whom?”

My first reaction is to lie. To tell her Chloe gave it to me. But I’m a terrible liar. “From one of our customers.”

She presses her lips together and looks down at the box, drawing her hands back as if she doesn’t want to touch it.

But I, on the other hand, really want to touch its black surface. To run my hands over the engraved red symbols on the top and sides. The hammer and the birds and the flames, which seem to sparkle under the fluorescent lights.

“Which customer?”

I shrug. “You know—that girl with all the corn rows.”

My mom looks back up at me. “Have I met her?”

I know the answer is no. Melina comes on Sundays and only when my mom’s out getting seeds.

“I guess not. But she’s really nice and always takes the time to talk.”

My mom scowls.

“What’s the big deal anyway? Why shouldn’t I get a present?”

My mom reaches down, but instead of keeping her hand away from the box, she rubs it, almost caresses it. “Did you open it?”

I nod, glad she’s going to accept it. “Yeah.”

“And…?”

“And what?” I reach for the box, and this time, she lets me take it, sliding it over toward me. It warms under my touch, and the etched birds seem to shimmer and come to life.

“Was there anything in it?” She’s looking at me like she knows the answer. But I don’t want to tell her about the feather.

I shake my head and lie. “It was empty.” I lift the lid, and she flinches, but I hold the box open and show her the inside. It is void of anything except its ebony interior.

For a moment, my mom has stopped breathing, but she does look inside. “Are you sure?”

I nod. “Yeah, sure.” Why is my mom so interested?

“Okay, then.” My mom is apparently going to let this box thing go.

I relax and scoot it away, not wanting to put it aside, but at the same time, not wanting my mom to see my interest in it.

“I need to go away this weekend,” she says out of nowhere.

It’s nothing new; we’ve gone on trips before, sometimes for the council, sometimes to buy plants. “Where are we going?”

But my mom shakes her head. “I’m going alone.”

“What about me?” My mom’s never left me alone before.

She gives me a weak smile. “You’ll stay here.”

My heart stops in my chest. She can’t be serious. Me. Stay alone? Without my mom? Is it some kind of test? Is she trying to see what I will do given the chance?

“I’ll make sure there’s enough food so you don’t even have to leave.”

“When?” I manage to say, hoping that, of all the mixed feelings going through me, she doesn’t hear the anticipation in my voice. I force my face to remain calm, though I’m not sure if I succeed.

“Friday morning,” she says. “I’ll get back on Monday.”

Friday. It’s the night I’m supposed to sneak out with Reese. And, like the Fates are rearranging my life, now I won’t even have to sneak out. I can do whatever I want. Thinking about it makes my palms sweaty. My mom would kill me if she knew what I had planned.

“You’ll be fine,” she says like she’s trying to convince herself. “If you need help, you can go over to Chloe’s.”

“Where are you going?” I’m not sure I can think of a situation extreme enough for my mom to leave me alone.

My mom looks away. “I have business to take care of.”

“What kind of business?”

She doesn’t want to tell me; I’m sure of it. And the more she doesn’t want to tell me, the more I want to know.

“You better get to bed,” she says.

“What kind of business, Mom?”

“Why does it matter?”

“Because I want to know.”

My mom looks at me a final time then looks away. “Family business.”

“What family?” My chest tightens. It has to be my father.

“I have things to talk about with your father.”

I act surprised. “My father?”

She nods.

“Where?” I’m trying to keep my voice calm.

“It doesn’t matter. What matters is that he doesn’t find out where you are. And I plan to make absolutely certain he doesn’t.”

An eerie chill runs though me. The father I’ve never known. My mom said he’d left when she was pregnant. That he got involved in some terrorist group and got thrown in prison after they blew up some giant water still being built in Nevada. Hundreds of people died in the explosion, and he was the person named responsible. He went to prison without even trying to deny his actions, and then he escaped less than a year later. And now, my mom’s planning to run off and meet with him alone?

“I should go with you,” I say, though the thought makes me queasy. His note had been nothing short of cloaked threats.

“No. You shouldn’t.”

“But he could hurt you,” I say.

My mom gives me a small smile. “I’m the one who’s supposed to protect you. Not the other way around.”

I open my mouth to argue again, but my mom stops me.

“Go to bed. You have school tomorrow.”

E
ven though I’m running late, I take my time, walking through what used to be the parking lot when I get to school. A couple years ago, the city council finally tore up the blacktop and attempted to plant some native greenery. Global Warming kills the atmosphere, so cars are taxed and restricted, and now most people don’t drive, which means a parking lot at a high school is no longer necessary, especially one made of blistering, black asphalt. Sometimes Chloe waits for me here in the mornings, but today she must already be in class like I know I should be.

I check the thermometers before I go in and resync my FON to match it. At one hundred and nine, we shouldn’t have to worry about another heat bubble today. Maybe not all weekend. The reporters must be wrong. And I can hardly believe my mom is actually going away. I mean, this has never happened. I head into school and pass the bathroom, thinking of Tanni, wishing she’d been a figment manifested from the deep recesses of my mind. But I touch the tender bump on my head. The blood’s scabbed over into a thin line which my curly hair hides—even in a ponytail. But it still hurts, and I know the bathroom—and Tanni—were real.

Shayne’s not in Social Sciences. I try not to spend the entire time wondering where he is. And in truth, I’m thinking more about Chloe. I haven’t talked to her since the tattoo parlor. I can’t get the words
Chloe will die
out of my mind. Or the image of Tanni’s empty eye sockets. And so, as soon as the bell rings, I look at no one, stop nowhere, and head to Study Hall.

Chloe’s there, waiting for me.

“What happened? I must’ve tried to text you a hundred times.” She jumps up from her chair and rushes over before I even get to the table.

I push the image of Tanni out of my mind. But her horrible words won’t budge.
Chloe will die.
“Nothing.”

“Nothing! I heard you got sent home yesterday. That you bumped your head.”

I nod. “I slipped in the bathroom. It was nothing.” I pull aside my hair so she can see the scab.

Chloe looks at it. “They sent you home for that?”

“Yeah. I think I passed out. Some freshman found me.”

Chloe lets go and walks back over to the table. “I’m so glad it wasn’t something serious.”

I smile and nod, but Tanni’s haunting eyes come back to me, burned into my mind, and I think it was serious. “Yeah, me too. How’d you find out?”

Chloe’s eyes get a dreamy look. “Reese told me. This morning in Physics.”

How did Reese know? I haven’t talked to him since he came by. My chest spasms; I need to tell Chloe about my plans.

“My mom’s leaving town this weekend.” I say it casually, but as soon as the words are out, my stomach starts flipping.

Chloe drops the stylus she’s picked up. She hasn’t started studying. Neither of us gets much studying done during Study Hall. “No. Way.”

I nod and bite my lower lip. “Yeah. She leaves Friday morning.”

“Oh. My. God.” Chloe’s excitement is infectious.

But I don’t want the whole school to know. “Shhhh!” The kids sitting two tables over have stopped writing and look at us.

“Piper, do you realize how huge this is? What are we going to do?”

The flipping in my stomach continues. “She told me to stay home all weekend.”

Chloe rolls her eyes. “I didn’t ask what she told you to do. I asked what we’re going to do.”

“Chloe…”

“What?” Her eyelids lower, and her eyes narrow. She knows I don’t plan to sit around watering the plants all weekend.

“I have to tell you something. I swear I don’t know how this happened and I have no clue how to get out of it.” Or if I want to get out of it.

“Out of what?” she says.

I sigh and make a silent wish she won’t hate me forever. “I think I got asked out for Friday night.” I whisper it because I really can’t believe it myself. And even if it’s not Shayne, I’ve still never been anywhere with a guy alone.

“Like on a date?”

“Shhhh!”

“Shayne?” At least she lowers her voice.

I shake my head, though now that she voices it, I’m torn between wanting it to be Reese and wanting it to be Shayne. I can’t believe Shayne wasn’t in class today.

“Then who?”

“Reese.” I can barely get the name out, and I watch her face to gauge her reaction.

The smile stays on Chloe’s face though it falls into a shadow of itself. “Wow. Reese.”

I realize Chloe is giving me the excuse I need because, as each minute brings me closer to Friday, my stomach tightens from nerves. Or excitement. At this point, I’m not very clear. “I’m going to tell him I can’t go. I’ll tell him I have other plans.”

Her eyes are moist, but she’s fighting to hold back her hurt. “He talks to me the entire class. He seems so interested,” she says.

“He should be,” I say. “He’s an idiot if he’s not.”

Chloe sits there, looking down at the table. I squeeze her hand, but she doesn’t return the gesture.

“I’ll tell him I can’t make it.”

But finally Chloe shakes her head, and her face brightens back to some semblance of what it was before. “No. No, you need to go. You’ve never been on a date.”

I lean close. “I don’t mind. I don’t really want to go.”

“You have to go.” Her smile is halfhearted, but still there.

“No, really. I’ll tell him I have to study.”