All the Things We Didn't Say Read Online Free PDF Page B

and that he’d put a pot of coffee on. The adults migrated toward the kitchen. Suddenly, I didn’t want my father hanging around Mrs Ryan. Sometimes he gave up too much of himself. And Mrs Ryan was tainted with marital strife. Some of it might somehow rub off on him, like a grass stain.
    Claire disappeared down the hall to the bathroom, but I stayed where I was, glowering at the Fun Saver on the hall table. I wanted to tear off the wrapping and rip it into thousands of pieces. I slid the camera into my pocket. If Mrs Ryan asked, I would tell her I had no idea where it went.
    I found Claire standing in my bedroom doorway. Her eyesswept over the piles of clothes in the corner and the holiday trees and singing Santa Clauses on my dresser-I had Christmasized my room as well. ‘I forgot how big your room was,’ she said after a pause. ‘My room on Avenue A is so small. And my room in Paris was even smaller.’
    There was a flowered bra on the floor, the kind that hooked in the front. I noticed a gray flannel nightgown, too, the one with the kitten silk-screened across the chest. A speech bubble above the kitten said, ‘I love to sleep’. I stood on top of it.
    â€˜So,’ I muttered. ‘Biology?’
    Claire shrugged. ‘Sure, if you want.’
    â€˜So what’s the deal? Didn’t you take it last year?’
    â€˜Yeah. But I totally sucked at it.’
    But you used to be so good at everything , I wanted to say.
    I looked around my room and realized there was nowhere for us both to sit. This probably would’ve made more sense at the kitchen table. Finally, I pulled my chair over to the bed, and Claire sat down. I plopped on the bed, pulled my biology book out of my bag, and opened it. ‘How far behind are you?’
    â€˜I got lost around cells and genetics.’ Claire sat very upright in the chair, her hands folded in her lap.
    â€˜Because it was in French?’ I asked.
    â€˜No.’
    Because you’re fat? I pictured fat clogging up her brain, impairing her memory.
    I flipped to the start of the genetics chapter. Claire leaned over and tapped a drawing of a tightly wound coil of DNA. ‘I heard a Peninsula sub freaked out about genetics on Monday.’
    I raised an eyebrow. ‘Kind of. I was in the class.’
    â€˜What happened?’
    â€˜It was this guy, Mr Rice. He was subbing for Mrs Hewes-she’s on maternity leave. He told us that DNA is magnetic. We’re stuck with our parents, and they’re stuck with us, whether we like it or not. DNA can explain everything we do, except we’re too stupid to understand that yet. Only the aliens can understand it.’
    â€˜Aliens?’ Claire giggled. ‘Even my teachers in France weren’t that messed up.’
    â€˜He didn’t seem messed up, really.’ I clutched a pillow close to my chest, curling away from Claire. ‘Maybe our school is just being narrow-minded.’
    Claire stared at me. ‘You believe him?’
    â€˜I just think it’s an interesting theory. I don’t believe the part about the aliens.’
    She shifted positions, moving closer. ‘So why do you think it’s interesting?’ Her tone of voice was curious but delicate. It was the same voice she’d used when we were friends, as if I were the most fascinating person in the world.
    After a thoughtful moment, Claire added, ‘Is it because you like the idea of everything happening for a reason? Or that, if you looked hard enough, you’d be able to understand why people do the stuff that they do? Like why they go away without telling you where they’re going?’
    If she said one more thing, I would punch her puffy face. I would point out that she wasn’t one to talk-she’d found her mother fooling around with that young Frenchman, after all. I pictured Claire throwing open the double doors to her parents’ bedroom, seeing Mrs Ryan and the boulangerie