Something Real (44 page)

“Open your closet.”

“What did you do?”

I can hear the smile in his voice. “Just open it.”

I cross to my closet; inside is a vase filled with delicate sunrise-colored roses. “
Oh
,” I say. I take out the vase and bury my nose in the bouquet.

I hear Patrick’s quiet laugh. “You like them?”

“Uh,
yeah
. Did Benny charge you for delivery?”

“I just told him to bill me later.”

“Thank you,” I whisper.

“You’re welcome. Now, hurry up so I can see you before first period.”

When I come downstairs, my place at the table is covered with handmade cards from all the kids. Jazzy puts a crown she made for me on my head, and Lex gives me a shiny gift bag. Inside is a new diary, leather bound, with delicate flowers carved into it. I glance at my sister and she waves her hand, like the perfect gift was nothing, no big deal.

“Just hide this one better, okay?”

“Thanks, Lex.” I feel a pang, wondering how she’ll feel when Benny and I make our announcement tomorrow.

The birthday love is too much; I shove down the last few bites of my mom’s pancakes, anxious to get out of here before I break down and confess everything. I wish Puma Guy would put the camera on someone else, but I know it’ll be trained on me all the way to school.

When I get on campus, Diane Finchburg is sitting at her desk, drinking a cup of coffee. I knock on the open door, and she looks up from her newspaper with a smile.

“Chloe! How’s it going?”

“Um.” I grip the straps of my backpack and stand frozen in her doorway. For a minute, I can’t move. I’m paralyzed with an overwhelming sense of dread that’s been growing inside me ever since I sat down in the leather chair across from Melinda Greenberg’s desk.

Diane stands up and crosses to me. No shoes, as usual. She has cupids on her socks. She puts an arm around me and guides me to the chair I usually occupy when I’m in here. I slip off my backpack and sit down heavily. Diane crosses to a small coffeepot next to her desk.

“Coffee?”

I nod.

“Sugar, cream?”

I nod.

I can’t say anything until I’ve had a few sips. The hot liquid seems to burn away the lump in my throat. We sit there in companionable silence for a few minutes and the only sound is the soft tick of the clock on her wall.

“Today’s my eighteenth birthday,” I blurt out.

“Is that a bad thing?”

“I’m moving out. Tomorrow.”

Diane’s face remains expressionless, but I can see the sympathy in her eyes. God, that’s not what I came here for. Why
did
I come here?

“That’s a big step,” Diane says.

“I have to do it. I can’t be in that house anymore.” I take another fortifying sip of coffee. “But this morning my mom was all clingy and made pancakes for me, and I just felt so … so…”

Tears swim in my eyes, salt my coffee. My voice finally breaks. “I’m really gonna miss them. All of them.”

Diane hands me a tissue.

“Do you want to move out?” Her voice is gentle, a slight nudge.

I think of the camera in my face this morning as my mom piled pancakes on my plate.

“Yes. But I know she won’t understand. And every time she’s nice to me, it makes it harder to … I mean, the night of the formal, it was like suddenly everything was okay. I mean, not okay, because Chuck was there, but she was laughing and taking pictures, and the whole time I just kept thinking about how I’m going to stab her in the back, you know?”

“Have you tried to talk about this with your mother, maybe without the cameras around? It’s possible that if she knew how serious you were, she would—”

I shake my head. “No. It doesn’t matter if the cameras are around or not. All of our conversations just end up as fights.”

“How does that make you feel?” I give Diane a look, and her lip twitches. “Okay, that was a bit shrinklike, wasn’t it?”

I manage a half smile, then bury my face in my mug.

“I’m happy to speak with her, if it’ll help,” she offers. “Or maybe the three of us together—”

“No,” I snap at her, wild and skittish. She jolts in her chair a little. “Sorry,” I mumble.

“That’s okay.”

The sounds in the hallway get louder, and I know the bell for first period is going to ring any minute. Patrick’s probably looking for me, and I’ll need time to explain my red eyes.
Ugh
. I should never have come in here. I put the coffee on her desk and stand up.

“Thanks for the coffee.”

“Sure.” Diane gives me a look that’s somehow half frown, half smile. “Well, let me know if there’s anything I can do, okay?”

“Okay.”

I stand up and put my backpack on.

“Chloe?” When I look up, she throws me a pack of Skittles. “Happy birthday.”

My meeting with Diane takes the edge off my morning. I think part of me wanted to talk to her because I felt like I needed permission to still move out even though my mom was really sweet to me today. Of course, Benny’s leaving, too, and that makes it about a million times easier. But “easier” is relative.

At the end of the day I’m walking out to the student parking lot, my hand in Patrick’s, when I see the two familiar black vans parked in the loading area in front of the school.

“What the hell?” says Benny.

I get a text from Mom on my MetaReel phone:

Leave your car here. I have a surprise for you and Benny.

I show Benny the text. “This can’t be good,” he mutters. He gets on his cell phone. “Matt. There might be a change of plans.”

Patrick squeezes my hand. “Can I help?”

I shake my head miserably. “No. I better just go find out what this is.”

He pulls me to him for a kiss that is long and sweet. I’m sure my entire family can see us, but I don’t care because I’m melting and I don’t ever want to be more than negative five centimeters away from him.

“I love you,” he whispers in my ear. I can hear other things in those three words:
It’s going to be okay. Don’t freak out. You can do this.

One of the vans honks, and I let go of Patrick. “Call you later?”

He nods, and Benny and I trudge over to our family.

As we get closer, two MetaReel cameramen sneak out from behind the vans and the doors burst open. Little hands throw confetti and beach balls at us. They’re all inside, even Lex. They must have taken her out of school early today.

“Surprise!” The noise of my family’s yelling carries across the whole parking lot and the back of my neck prickles. Cars drive past and honk; every student at Taft has their eyes on me.

“What’s this?” I manage. My teeth are clenched, and Mom must notice the look of horror on my face because she bursts out laughing and wraps her arms around me.

“It’s a birthday surprise, not an alien attack!” She turns and shouts over her shoulder. “Ready, you guys? One, two—”

“WE’RE GOING ON A CRUISE!” A wall of excited, happy sound.

Benny’s body stiffens beside me.

“When?” I whisper.

“Right now!” shouts Jazzy.

“
What?
” Benny and I say at the same time.

But they’re not listening, they’re singing “Happy Birthday,” and everyone’s looking at me, please please stop looking at me. When they’re through singing and Mom tries to usher us into the car, I catch Benny’s eye, and he nods. I gently shrug away from my mom’s grip.

“Mom, Benny and I have to talk to you.”

SEASON 18, EPISODE 2

(The One with the Suitcases)

I see a flicker of irritation in Mom’s eyes, but she covers it up with a too-bright voice. “Okay. Let’s talk on the way. We have a six-hour drive to San Diego ahead of us.”

“Mom. Can you come over here for a sec?” Benny motions toward the student parking lot. Smart. MetaReel cameras aren’t allowed on school property.

My palms are slick with sweat, and it feels like someone pumped me full of helium. Everything buzzes.

Lex catches my eye and mouths,
WTF?
but I just shake my head. She’ll know soon enough.

“Benny, what’s going on?” Mom’s still holding a beach ball, and the bright primary colors clash with everything I’m feeling inside.

“Mom, please. Just. Can we talk to you really quick?” he says.

Chuck and Lacey Production Assistant get out of a third van. I hadn’t noticed before, but of course MetaReel’s going on the cruise, too.

“Beth, kids, let’s go. You don’t want to miss the boat.”

This is so MetaReel. They’re purposefully cutting the time close to heighten the drama.
Will the Bakers make it in time? Or will their ship of dreams take off without them? Tune in Tuesday …

Mom throws up her hands. “Chuck, I have no idea what’s going on. Kids, either you tell me what you have to say here, or we’ll talk on the road. We don’t have a lot of time.”

Chuck’s eyes meet mine, and he gives me a hard look. I hold his gaze while memories of his larger-than-life presence throughout my childhood crumble at my feet.
This
—right now—is reality. If he wants it on camera, so be it. I turn my back on him.

“We can’t go with you,” I say. My voice is low, but I can hear my siblings repeating what I said to one another.

“What do you mean? Of course you can. Sweetheart, it’s your birthday—”

“My
eighteenth
birthday. It’s my choice not to go, right?”

The cameras move closer, and now Lex and Kirk are out of the van, moving toward us. Mom’s voice gets low, scary.

“Bonnie™, don’t do this right now. You have no idea the pressure—” She stops, remembering the cameras. “This is for
your
birthday. We’re not going without you, and if we don’t go, everyone will be so disappointed. It’s already paid for. Sandra packed your bags and got you some really cute new stuff.” She sighs when I don’t say anything. “Honey, I know you’ll miss Patrick, but it’s only for a few days, and you’re too attached anyway.”

Benny puts his hand on my arm just as I’m about to go off on her. He speaks in a Voice of Reason. “Mom. We don’t want to go on a cruise with MetaReel.”

“Jesus Christ,” Mom mutters.

Just then the Vultures arrive. Someone must have tipped them off. Soon we’re surrounded by paparazzi.

“Bonnie™, Benton™, get in the van.
Now
.” (Mom)

“Bonnie™, one picture, sweetheart.” (Vulture)

“Benton™, how’s the boyfriend?” (Vulture)

“Lexie™! One smile, honey!” (Vulture)

“Get away, you mangy beast!” (Lex, possibly stealing a line from a play)

“Get in, kids. We’ll talk in the van.” (Mom)

“No.” (Me)

I shake my head, my eyes filling. This sucks so bad.

“Bonnie™, you heard your mother. You need to obey her.” (Kirk)

“We need to talk to our mom, okay? Can you just…” Benny makes a go-away motion in Kirk’s direction.

A Vulture gets closer, and Chuck steps in front of him. “This is a private conversation,” he snaps.

What the hell part of this conversation was ever
private
? Part of me wants to laugh hysterically; the other part is itching to scream.

Mom grabs my arm, but I yank it out of her iron grip. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Patrick and Matt edging closer. Patrick looks like he’s about two seconds away from stepping in. For a split second, we lock eyes. Then I look away. It’s now or never.

“We’re moving out.”

As the words come out of my mouth, time suspends itself. The only sound is the blood pounding in my ears. A bird flies overhead. There’s a scratch on the front door of the van closest to me. A tiny stain near the collar of Mom’s shirt. Confetti in Benny’s hair.

Then:

An explosion of sound. Everyone starts talking at once, and the Vultures are screaming at us, trying to get pictures, quotes, anything. Patrick’s suddenly there and shoves one of them off me and then he’s beside me, gripping my hand. The triplets are crying, Lex is snapping at my brothers to shut up, Mom’s on a tirade (“You’re doing this right now? Here? How can you do this to us? Do you have any
idea
how this is going to affect our family? All you had to do was wait until graduation, but no, of course not, Bonnie™, you only think of yourself.”), and Chuck is talking a mile a minute on his cell. Another Vulture tries to grab Benny, and Matt’s on him, going off about privacy and a lot of other stuff he’s obviously kept bottled up inside.

“Chlo, let me get you out of here. C’mon, let’s go.” Patrick’s voice, soft and gentle in my ear, his hand gently tugging. I look at him as the chaos continues and nod.