party.”
“Leah isn’t here, and she hasn’t returned my texts or emails.” Jessica pursed her lips spitefully. “I heard she and Chad ditched school, but you’d think she’d at least tell me. I don’t know what’s with Leah lately. She’s been so … distant.”
“Not with Chad, I’ll bet,” Kat said, giggling.
“I couldn’t care less what they do. And Leah isn’t the boss of me, so if I want Amber on the fundraiser committee, she’s in.”
Moniqua groaned. “She’s so pathetic, though, how can we stand her?”
“No worries,” Jessica said cheerfully. “Amber can do all the messy stuff like painting signs.”
“Our own geek slave.” Kat giggled.
“That doesn’t seem fair.” Trinidad shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “But I guess Amber won’t mind since she volunteered to help. She’ll be great on your committee.”
“Yeah, a great bore.” Tristan snorted. “Really, Trinidad, how did you survive being stuck with her on the drive here? At least you won’t have to go back with her. I’ll give you a ride anywhere you want.”
“Ooh!” Kat clapped her hands. “Tristan and Trinidad, even your names sound like you were destined to meet.”
“What do you say, Trin?” Tristan smoothly slipped an arm around Trinidad’s tiny waist. “Ditch the loser and I’ll drive you home in my Hummer — eventually.”
“You have a Hummer? Wow … that’s way cool. But I don’t know … I mean … I’ll have to check with Amber first. She’s been awfully nice to me.”
“She’s always nice in this earnest, revolting way,” Moniqua complained. “Makes me sick how she doesn’t have a clue what’s really going on. Her basket club is a big joke. She takes it seriously, but everyone is laughing at her club. Basket Cases, we call them.”
“Maybe inviting her was a mistake.” Jessica frowned. “But she’s so eager to please. We’ll keep her busy and out of our way.”
Out of their way? Like I was a disease!
Shame washed over me and I blinked back tears. I’d been so looking forward to this party. I’d used my babysitting money to buy my now-ruined shirt, and I’d prepared a list of fundraising ideas to impress Jessica. I endured getting lost, scaling a cemetery gate, and itchy nettles.
And for what?
Utter humiliation.
I wanted to turn invisible and slink away. But I couldn’t abandon Trinidad, no matter how much she deserved it. Anger pushed me out of hiding. I stepped away from the potted plant, where anyone could see me, then stomped over to the table.
Folding my arms across my chest, I faced Trinidad.
“I’m leaving,” I said in the calmest voice I could manage.
“So soon? Is something wrong?” Trinidad pushed Tristan’s hand off her arm and stood. “Amber, are you sick?”
“Oh, I’m sick all right. Of fakeness.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not anyone’s ‘geek slave.’ Go home with him.” I pointed at Tristan, not wanting to say his name.
“Were you spying on us?” Tristan narrowed his eyes.
I glared, holding tight to anger so I wouldn’t cry.
“You heard us?” Jessica sounded a little scared. “We were just messing around. I’m sorry, we didn’t mean —”
“Save it, Jess,” Moniqua interrupted. “Don’t apologize to her. Eavesdroppers hear exactly what they deserve.”
“Yeah,” I agreed sadly. “The truth.”
Then I left the party.
* * *
I could hardly see out of the windshield through my tears.
To shut off my thoughts, I amped my radio full blast and sang at the top of my lungs. I didn’t even know the words to the song, so I messed up the lyrics … like I’d messed up my life. I hoped a truck would smash into me or a bolt of lightning would strike my car. But there wasn’t a cloud, much less a lightning bolt in the sky, and all the trucks on the road were wise enough to avoid me.
It was almost a surprise to make it home safely.
Only I couldn’t bring myself to get out of the car. Why bother? My life was over. The fact that I was still breathing was a cruel irony.
There was no going forward or backwards, only sitting here in limbo land. I couldn’t bear to talk to anyone, so going into the house was out of the question. Mom would take one glance at my face, know I was upset, and pepper me with questions. Then she’d tell my father and insist we discuss it over a family meeting.
So I just sat there, with the car running, drowning in dark, hopeless thoughts. I glanced down at my lucky bracelet, tempted to rip it off my wrist.
Lots of luck it brought me — all of it bad.
By Monday morning, whispers and gossip would have spread around school. Basket Case … Basket Case! Is that really what everyone thought of my club? Of me? Were Alyce and Dustin my only real friends? Was everyone just laughing like I was a pathetic joke? I could never return to school. I’d have to transfer to another school or drop out. But dropping out would mean never going to college and having a big career. If I asked Mom about home schooling she’d just say no, because she was already crazy busy raising the triplets. So what could I do?
I couldn’t just leave school — yet how could I stay?
Hearing a car, I looked up at the mail truck slowing in front of my house. The mail lady, Sheila, saw me and waved. She and I had gotten to be friends after I’d sent off tons of scholarship applications that sent me rushing out to meet the mail truck daily. But I didn’t want to talk to her today and hear about her chronic back pain and how her sister’s husband was in jail again. So I hunched down in the car and prayed she’d leave.
Sheila waved again and called out my name.
Just what I didn’t need.
But she kept shouting for me, and if I didn’t go over my parents would come out of the house. I wiped my tears, arranging my hair so it partially hid my face. Then I walked over with a fake smile.
“Amber, check out my new wheels!” Sheila said happily.
“You finally got a new mail truck?” I said with forced cheerfulness. “Cool.”
“Isn’t it a beaut? Except that it’s a manual and the gears are all wonky. I’m still getting used to it. But hey, enough about me.” She reached for a letter on her lap. “I have good news for you! That scholarship you were waiting for!”
“Well, open it up!” Sheila urged.
I hesitated, then shrugged and ripped into the envelope. The opening lines jumped out at me:
Ohmygod! I got the scholarship!
Next thing I knew I was jumping and crying for joy. Sheila laughed and congratulated me, and then said she had to finish her route. I heard an awful clunk of gears as her car jerked forward, tires squealing.
I read the letter, then read it again.
I’m sure my eyes were as big and round as all those lovely zeroes. I nearly fell to my knees and kissed the pavement.
Totally, totally amazing! All my dreams come true and folded neatly into an envelope. Grammy Greta was so right. I did have a future — and a great one! I could go anywhere and be anything I wanted.
