Love Will Keep Us Together by Anne Dayton

Author:Anne Dayton [Dayton, Anne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2013-03-07T00:00:00+00:00

27

“Hey, Mom?” My feet slide across the floorboards as I head down the hall. She’s been on the computer all day looking into different homeschooling curriculums for Michael. I have my own computer in my room, so I can work on my applications anyway, thank goodness, but I ran into a snag. A small setback.

“In here,” Mom calls from the office, her voice muffled.

Okay, I’m panicking. Transcripts. I was supposed to have my school send transcripts. And there’s this whole part of the Harvard application that I was supposed to have my school counselor fill out. The transcripts I can maybe get sent out first-thing tomorrow, and I could probably make it look like the school forgot to mail them or something. But the counselor thing . . . My guidance counselor is Mrs. Canning, and she’s hated me ever since we broke into the school last year. Plus, she’s clearly not Guidance Counselor of the Year. Isn’t her job to tell me about stuff like this?

“I have a question.” Okay, I have to be honest. I have to tell her I lied. Then she’ll know how to make it better. Moms always know what to do.

“Mmm-hmm?” Mom doesn’t look up from the computer screen. The room is dark. The sun set an hour ago, but apparently she didn’t notice. I wait for her to acknowledge me, but she doesn’t.

“I had a question . . .” My voice trails off, and Mom doesn’t look away from the screen. “About my applications.”

“I thought they were done?” She leans in closer to the screen.

“They are. Almost. There’s a . . . a tiny thing I could use your help with.”

“Sure.” Mom’s usually perfect hair is plastered to the side of her head. “I’m almost done here.”

“Um . . .” I press one foot down on top of the other and try to keep the panic out of my voice. “If you could come now, that would be—”

“While you’re here . . .” She clicks the mouse a few times and opens her e-mail inbox. “Are you close with Asha Nayar? She’s younger than you, right?”

“What?” A sinking feeling settles in my stomach. “I know her. Why?”

Mom smoothes her forehead with her thumb and forefinger. “Oh, I don’t know. Mrs. Vandecamp is organizing some meeting or something about her.” She clicks the screen closed and sighs. “Honestly I don’t know where these women find the time. It’s like I’m the only mother who—”

Mom’s new timer goes off in the kitchen, and Michael shrieks. He’s not used to the sound, and it’s freaked him out every time it’s gone off since Christmas.

“That’s it! That stupid piece of junk goes in the garbage!” Mom stands up and rushes to the doorway. “I’m sorry, Riley,” she calls as she brushes past me into the hall. “I’ll be with you in a few minutes, okay?” She reaches Michael in the living room as the noise gets to earsplitting decibels.

I stand still, staring at the empty spot where my mom used to be.

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