Willow finally agreed, and accompanied Erin and
Fiona back downstairs. Troy had his eyes closed and
was listening to his music again. Only the poker players
turned their heads.
Kelli smiled brightly and said, “Hey.”
Hopper asked, “You want to play?”
Color high, Willow shook her head shyly. “No,
thanks.”
Dieter stood, abandoning his cards. “How about
Chinese checkers?”
She bit her lip, gave Fiona a desperate look, then took
a deep breath and nodded. “Okay.”
Erin went back to her book, and peace once again
reigned.
John materialized at Fiona’s side. “Did you convince
the brat to apologize?” he asked, voice pitched for her
ears only.
She sighed. “In a manner of speaking.”
“What’s that mean?”
“You’ll see.” She tried to shake off her oddly dark
mood. “Maybe I’m wrong. She could be genuinely
contrite.”
He grunted. Fiona had no trouble interpreting the
sound.
“Has the snow let up yet?” she asked.
He shook his head. “It’s going to be a while before
you get out of here.”
Of course she felt dismay, because the kids were
going to get bored and have even more trouble getting
along. But if she’d been here alone… Well, she’d be
glad to be stranded for longer.
And she knew perfectly well why.
“Shoot, I forgot to try to call Dave again. My principal,” she explained. “I suppose I’d better do it.”
She retrieved her cell phone, but this time failed to
get the call through. She followed John back to his
room, where he took his phone from a bedside table.
She succeeded no better with his.
“They know you’re here and safe,” he said. “Don’t
worry.”
“I’ll bet the parents are worrying.”
“Because you would if one of them was your kid.”
“Well, of course I would! Dave got one call, I kept
cutting out, and now not a word.”
“You can’t do anything.”
“No. I know.” After a minute, she smiled, if crookedly. “Oh, well. Until Amy’s little outburst, everybody looked pretty happy.”
“You wearing down yet?” Had his voice softened?
“I’m fine. Oh, let me retrieve the rest of those pads.”
“Right.” He went into the storeroom and returned
with another of the baskets he used for toiletries and
soap in the bathroom, this one heaped with small,
plastic-wrapped sanitary pads. “This okay? Or should
I put them in a brown paper bag?”
She made a face at him. “Girls’ bathroom. Boys’
bathroom. Remember?”
He grinned, then said, “Sorry I didn’t offer any in the
first place. I could have saved some trouble.”
“Amy was mad because she thought Willow was
flirting with Hopper outside. I suspect she’d have
figured out some way to get back at her. This was just
the first opportunity that arose.”
“Ah.”
“Makes you glad not to be sixteen again, doesn’t it?”
As if involuntarily, his hand rose to touch the scar on
his face. “Oh, I don’t know.”
Feeling insensitive, she said, “I’m sorry,” then
stopped. “Okay, I’m doing it again.
His fingers curled into a fist and his hand dropped to
his side. Face completely blank of expression, John
shook his head. “Don’t worry. That time, I might as well
have asked for pity.”
She let out a huff. “I wasn’t expressing pity. It was
sympathy!”
“Which is completely different?”
“Yes!” she exclaimed. “Don’t you know the difference?”
“Apparently not.”
“Do you think…that the scar makes you unattractive?” She couldn’t believe she’d said that, and almost opened her mouth to once again say, I’m sorry. Just in
time, she stopped herself.
He gave her a peculiar look that she couldn’t read.
“It might’ve looked better if I’d just tattooed one side
of my face, or put ten hoops through my eyebrow
instead. A scar… I don’t know.”