Destination Unknown by Bill Konigsberg

Author:Bill Konigsberg
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Scholastic Inc.

* * *

We four sat in the living room, watching Dallas. Rick definitely made it funnier, interspersing witticisms about what the various characters should say. Meanwhile, I was trying to figure out how to sneak back into my room, as OCE had morphed to OME (Operation Magazine Extraction). Of course, leave it to my mother, who had planted her flag on not going into my room, as it would be “very rude to our guest.”

I was beginning to be afraid that not sneaking in would wind up being ruder.

“Ugh,” Rick said. “None of this matters. It’s all going to turn out to be Victoria Principal having another damn dream, thereby negating everything.”

My dad snorted. “Why are we watching this crapola?”

“Bite your tongue,” Rick deadpanned. “This is the best.”

“I’ll be right back. Need to get something,” I said, standing up.

“Honey,” my mother responded. She turned to Rick. “Sorry. I’ve told him. That’s your room while you’re here. Off-limits to forgetful children.”

I tentatively sat down. I stayed fastened to the couch, trying to figure out a way around this. I excused myself to use the bathroom, but the bathroom was within view, and for some reason my mother was very serious about this odd rule she’d made. When I stepped out, I glanced over, hoping she’d be enraptured in Dallas, but she was staring straight at me. I walked the plank back to the couch.

“I’m getting tired,” my father said as Falcon Crest began.

Rick raised his arms over his head in a mock stretch and said, “If we’re gonna hit the links early tomorrow, better get some shut-eye.” He stood up. “Micah, thanks for the use of your room. I hate to put you out.”

“No problem. Could I—”

“Micah!” my mother nearly shouted. Why this one thing had become her obsession, I’ll never know. But it was clear: On her watch, I wasn’t getting back into my room tonight.

“Okay,” I said, trying to figure out how to deal with the awkwardness that was bound to ensue. Was it possible the magazine wouldn’t make noise under the pillow? What if it did? Would he think I was making fun of him? Would he tell my parents—and if so, how much worse would it be for them to find out that way than me just telling them?

Damned CJ and his hypnotic ways.

Had I not quite obviously tried to get back into my room twice, the easy time to extricate the magazine would have been when Rick went to brush his teeth in the hall bathroom after my mother excused herself for the night. But because I’d been so weird about it, suddenly my mother was playing warden. Could she know? How?

It was all so weird and confusing, and the stakes felt pretty high.

When Rick said good night and closed the door behind him, my mother kissed me on the head and said, “Just wanting to make sure our guest felt at home. You’ll understand when you’re older.” And what I understood was that when I

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