Friction by E. R. Frank

Author:E. R. Frank
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Atheneum Books for Young Readers

13

I WALK STRAIGHT home from the jungle gym, even though the school day isn’t over. Simon doesn’t think it’s a good idea, but he can’t stop me either.

When I let myself in through the back door, my father’s toeing off his shoes.

“What are you doing here?” I go, helping myself to a Hostess box from our pantry.

“Same thing you are.” He drops his briefcase to the floor. “Skipping.” He swings a chair away from the kitchen table to straddle it, backward. “Simon and Maggie called me at work,” he explains. “I wanted to be here when you got home.”

“Mom couldn’t leave the clinic, right?” I slip a cupcake out of its plastic wrapping right onto the kitchen table. If my mother were here, she’d tell me to use a napkin.

“Actually, she was still at the hospital when I got the call,” my father goes. The frosting has white corkscrew swirls, like an old telephone cord, dividing it down the center.

“With that Martha, right?” I say. He doesn’t really answer.

“I called Mom there,” he goes, “and she checked everything out.” He rests his elbows on the table. “Stacy’s going to be okay.”

“Did she have to have a blood transfusion?”

“I don’t know.”

“If she needed one, would she have died if they couldn’t have given it to her?”

“She might have died in a situation like that,” my dad says. “But she’s fine.” I pick the frosting from the top of my cupcake. It peels off like a chocolate sticker.

“She said she couldn’t have blood transfusions,” I go. “I thought they would let her die.”

“Yeah,” my dad goes. “Simon told me that’s what you thought.” He watches me pull the cupcake apart and lick out the whipped sugar center. “He also said you were right there when it happened,” he goes. “And that you were pretty scared.”

“Here.” I hold out the other half of the cupcake. “You can have the rest.”

“Alex,” he goes, like he’s about to ask me a question. He takes the cupcake.

“Yeah?”

He stares at me a minute and then pops my gift into his mouth. He barely even chews before it’s gone. “Maybe you’ll visit her. Talk things out.”

“No.” She made me feel so dumb. And all those lies about Simon. And about me. My father looks like he’s waiting for something.

“You can’t talk things out with her,” I try to explain. “Besides, there’s nothing to talk out. I just don’t like her.”

“Because she lied to you about her religion and her father dying?” He’s got chocolate on his tooth.

“That. And other lies. Like about Simon. She says the worst stuff about Simon.” My father might really know what to do. I could tell him about it. Tell him everything. Even though it’s so embarrassing. Even though it’s the kind of thing you don’t want to go around talking to your father about. I could tell him right now. But he starts up again.

“Remember that time Mom asked you about the thief?”

“Yeah,” I say. “She was really talking about Martha.” My dad nods.

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