The Enemy Hypothesis
A Brazos High Novella
Amy Sparling
Contents
1. ABBY
2. MARK
3. ABBY
4. MARK
5. ABBY
6. MARK
7. ABBY
8. MARK
9. ABBY
10. MARK
11. ABBY
12. MARK
13. ABBY
14. MARK
15. ABBY
16. MARK
Also by Amy Sparling
About the Author
One
ABBY
Dinner is eaten. The dishes are washed. My three little sisters have all taken the showers they hate taking and gone reluctantly to bed. I am finally, finally, finally able to close myself up in my bedroom for a tiny bit of peace and quiet. It’s just after ten o’clock on Sunday night. I’m sixteen years old and Abuela (who is supposed to be in charge) doesn’t give us bedtimes, but let’s face it—I’m pooped. So even though I’m finally alone in my room, I won’t stay up much longer and I don’t get to enjoy this alone time. Tomorrow, I’ll get to wake up entirely too early and do it all over again.
I pick up my phone and glance at the notifications. There are two texts from my best friend Jules who is raving about the plot twist on our favorite TV show. The show I didn’t get to watch tonight because I was too busy helping Maria with her algebra homework and then checking over Andrea’s social studies project.
Then I notice the date on my phone, right next to the time. Tomorrow is September first, the start of a new month. But most importantly, it marks exactly one year since my parents decided to abandon us.
Okay, maybe “abandon” is a little too harsh of a word.
My parents didn’t exactly leave my sisters and me to fend for ourselves, but sometimes it feels like it. My mom’s parents both live in Mexico and both of them are in failing health. She wanted to go down to Juarez and take care of them, but my dad also wanted to go since most of his extended family also lives in Mexico. So they asked my dad’s mom to move into our house to take care of us and then they jetted off.
I can’t believe it’s been a year already. They come back to visit us every few months, but Mom keeps going back because she can’t leave her parents to die alone. I think it’s really sweet what she’s doing, but it’s put all of us in a tight spot here at home. I love my Abuela, and she’s the sweetest, kindest grandmother ever. But that’s just the problem—she’s too sweet. My little sisters are thirteen, eleven, and eight years old and they just walk all over her. So this past year has been largely up to me to keep the family running.
And I’m sick of it.
Last month my best friend Jules fell hard for Jake Morgan, the literal hottest guy in our school. They are now a ridiculously cute couple and it’s easy to see how happy he makes my best friend. She’s practically never not smiling now. Jules has been trying hard to make sure she doesn’t ditch me for her new boyfriend, and I really appreciate that, but honestly? I’m really glad she has a boyfriend to occupy her time now, because I’ve been feeling like I keep abandoning her to take care of my sisters.
Of course, I wish I had a boyfriend. I want to be as happy and pathetically in love as Jules. But even if some gorgeous guy just fell into my lap, it’s not like I could date him anyway. My life is too busy. My sisters are too annoying. And my Abuela needs all the help she can get.
I fall back in my bed and text Jules, letting her know I missed watching our show. We text back and forth for a bit, and then my phone screen lights up with my mom’s face on it. She’s calling me for a video chat.
I sit up in bed and answer the call. “Hi, Mom.”
“How’s my baby doing?”
Despite me being the oldest of her four children, she still calls me her baby. I heave a sigh and don’t bother sugar-coating my reply. “I’m exhausted. I’m never having kids of my own. Taking care of kids sucks.”
Mom frowns, her lips pressing into two flat lines. It’s not fair of me to give her this guilt trip, but it’s also not fair of her to leave us for a whole year. “Abuela is in charge, honey, not you. So don’t stress out about your sisters.”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. “Abuela is too much of a pushover. She lets the girls do whatever they want, and that only makes my life harder. Did you know she let Maria go to the mall with her friends last weekend and she spent two hundred dollars on clothes?”
Mom’s eyes widen. “She did what?”
I nod. “Yep. And then I had to find a way to feed everyone on what little cash was left over.”
Mom sighs. “I’ll call Maria after this and ground her butt. I can’t believe she thought she could get away with that. We send you money for food and essentials only! If she wants to go to the mall she can spend her allowance.”
Mom keeps ranting about Maria, but I tune it out. Of all four of us, Maria is the troublemaker, and no amount of Mom’s yelling seems to make her behave herself.
Dad is a software engineer who works for a company that lets him work from home. He also does a lot of freelance jobs on the side. It was easy for him for pack up and keep working in Mexico. They send money to Abuela’s debit card every month, and she uses it to take care of us. Unfortunately, she’s been a little too generous with handing out that debit card to my thirteen year old sister.
“If I could get a job then I’d be able to help out more,” I say. “Are you sure we can’t get a car?”
Before they went to Mexico, Dad sold his
