Dad pulled into the driveway and cut the engine.
“We’re going in?” I asked.
“Just for a few minutes,” Dad said. “Long enough to eat some ice cream. I don’t want to just hand Jake the carton and kick him out of the car.”
I looked at Jake. I think he would’ve been okay with that.
We all started toward the front door. I suspected Jake would run for his room the second he got inside, leaving me with the parents.
We went in the door, and Indiana greeted us excitedly. Jake grabbed a leash from the banister. “I should probably take Indiana around the block. Do you want to come?”
“Yes!”
Dad was walking toward the kitchen looking for Sheree. I called to him that we’d be back.
Indiana was in a frenzy now that Jake had the leash. “I try to walk him at least two miles a day,” Jake said. “He’s getting fat.”
Indiana dragged Jake down the street, and I walked along beside them. We’d gone several blocks through the fresh night air without talking. Finally, I had to say something.
“What are you thinking about?” I regretted it as soon as I said it. I didn’t really want to know, and he probably didn’t want to tell me.
“Our parents,” he said. “I was thinking about what they’ve been doing while we were at the movie, and what they are probably doing right now.”
Right now. No! “You think they’re all over each other? With us right down the street?” Surely not. They were old, and they were eating ice cream.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” he said.
I took that to mean he thought they were all over each other.
“What do you want to talk about?” I asked. Not Anya and Brad.
“Nothing,” he said. Then he said in quiet voice, “At first, I thought it was horrible that John was your dad. But now, it’s kind of cool to have a friend dealing with the same thing.”
The kiss of death. He only saw me as a friend. I’d known that when the night started. I’d just forgotten somewhere along the way.
I didn’t answer, and he didn’t say anything else. I got used to the silence after a while. I started thinking about Anya again. I was afraid to think about the kisses or my crush. I blinked back images of our parents together, and then I started thinking about the toad slime substitution.
We got back to his house, and I reached for the doorknob. Maybe beef jerky would work. Could I liquefy it somehow?
“Wait,” Jake said. “We should make some noise.”
Yuk. Having Anya’s shocked expression burned in my mind was one thing. Seeing Dad and Jake’s mother doing God knows what, could kill us. Or make us wish we were dead.
We made a lot of noise opening the door and walking to the living room. Jake unhooked Indiana’s leash and he ran ahead of us. Even with all that, Jake’s mom’s blonde hair was totally mussed and they had guilty looks on their faces. I didn’t see dishes of ice cream anywhere. I really felt like I was going to vomit. It was my night to have an awesome kiss, not my dad’s. He’d had his chance years ago when he was still young.
Jake glared at my dad. He really did. Just glared right at him like he hated his guts.
“Well that was fast.” Sheree said, smoothing her hair and trying to act like everything was normal.
Fast? She would know.
“Right,” Jake snapped. “We’re back now.” He looked at my father when he said it, and it was pretty obvious he meant “Get away from my mother.”
I felt really torn. Whose side should I be on? Other than my own, of course. I wimped out and leaned down to pet Indiana.
“I guess we should go,” Dad said, standing up. “Thanks for the great dinner.”
“Anytime,” Jake’s mom said.
I really hated to think mean thoughts about her, but come on! Anytime? How totally slutty.
Jake already had one foot on the stairs. “Bye, Zoe. Mr. Miller.”
I waved. Jake had kissed me, which should have been great, but things were such a mess that I wanted to cry.
On top of everything else, I had to make uncomfortable small talk all the way to my dad’s crappy apartment and then try to sleep on the futon on the living room floor while my dad’s snores pounded my head like the artillery in one of his WWII movies.
Mom says I have a kind of persecution complex. She says that Zeus’s curse has made me think I’ll be punished for anything I do wrong. But, she also says that I should learn to cope with it. She says most of the stuff I feel bad about like selfish thoughts and stuff are part of being human. I hope she’s right.
Guilt was eating away at me. Anya was going to hate me. And worse, I still wasn’t happy. I had no idea how Jake felt about me. I’d turned my cell off after she saw us kissing. I hadn’t even checked my email. I wasn’t ready to deal with Anya.
Without it, I felt detached and isolated. Saturday with Dad was totally awkward. We’d finally settled on the rented recliners in the stark white living room, each reading a book and otherwise ignoring each other. I told him I wanted to sleep at home on Saturday night because I had a stomachache. I promised to hang with him next weekend instead.
I know it hurt his feelings, but I was miserable.
He took me home, and I went to the refuge of my bedroom. Mom had redone it three times for her show. I loved it this time. I had fluffy pillows all over my bed, and the periwinkle walls were calming without being depressing.
Mom got home within an hour and came up to check on me.
“I really don’t want to talk about it,” I said, cuddling the softest pillow.
“Okay.” She started to leave but I stopped her.
“Stay. I want company,” I admitted. “I just don’t want to talk about everything.”
“Okay,” Mom said, flopping down on the bed with me.
“Your wart’s already getting smaller,” I said.
She reached up to touch it. “Thank goodness.”
“How many hours have you done?”
“Forty,” she said dropping her arm. “I’ve worked harder this week than I usually do. So much for a vacation.”
“Can we go somewhere?” I pleaded. “Somewhere far away.”
Mom shook her head. “That bad, huh?”
“I kissed Jake.”
“What!” Mom shot straight up into a sitting position. Her face lit up. “When? How?”
“Last night. But I don’t know if he did it because he likes me or because he wanted to make Anya jealous.” I said with a frown.
“Was she there?” Mom asked, clearly not ready to write off the kiss just yet.
“Yeah. And there’s more. Dad is going out with Jake’s mom.” I braced myself for her reaction. I didn’t want her any more upset that she had been.
Her mouth dropped open. “You’re kidding.”
“No.” I gave her a weak smile. “I’m not.”
“How can he possibly be dating the mother of the one guy in the whole world you have a crush on?” She leaned over and hugged me.
“It doesn’t seem possible does it?” I asked morosely. I rested my head on her shoulder.
“I’ll talk to him,” she said. “I’ll tell him he’s done enough to screw up your life and he has to stop seeing her.”
“No, Mom. I’m not sure that would help.” I shrugged out of her hug. “I don’t know how Jake feels about me anyway.”
“How was the kiss?” she asked trying to lighten the moment.
“Really, really good,” I admitted. I refused to meet her eyes. The woman could read me like a book.
She studied me for a minute. “You’ve got it bad, don’t you?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“And what does Anya have to say about all this?”
“I haven’t talked to her since she saw us kissing. After she made out with Brad for two hours in the movie.”
“No wonder you’re upset. You need to talk to her and get it over with,” Mom suggested.
“It’s not going to be p
retty,” I said, burying my head in the pillow.
“Why not? She has someone else. She’s your friend. You’ve always been there for her. She should be happy for you.”
I released the pillow. “Of course you say that, Mom. You’re my mother.”
“Well,” Mom said crossing her arms. “She’s your friend.”
I wasn’t so sure.
Anya, never one to avoid confrontation, rang the doorbell an hour later. Mom sent her up to my room.
“Well, hello, boyfriend stealer,” Anya snapped, standing in the doorway. She looked as pretty as usual in her cream top and miniskirt.
I went over to sit in my desk chair where I felt less vulnerable. I was glad I’d resisted putting on my pajamas. “Oh, Anya. He’s not your boyfriend anymore.”
I was really glad I’d never told Anya the secret about me being a witch, because the way she was glaring at me, I knew she’d probably do anything she could to hurt me right now.
“Why would you kiss him?” she demanded with hands on her hips, her bracelets clanging with every move. “What were you thinking?”
“Anya,” I said in what I hoped was a calming voice. “You were kissing Brad.”
“I like Brad,” she snapped. “I was on a date with Brad. What were you doing with Jake?”
I leaned back and crossed my legs. “We ditched our parents and went to the movies,” I explained. I was free and clear on that part.
“So he kissed you to make me jealous?” she asked, her voice still angry.
“Pretty much,” I said. At first anyway.
She paused, considering my answer. “Why’d you let him?”
Now, I was getting mad too. “Maybe because you were being really mean rubbing Brad in his face like that.”