didn't argue. She shut off the water, then stepped back so I could tear off several paper towels. When I finished, she handed me the tissue box. I blew my nose, stepped on the trash compactor pedal, threw away the used tissue, and then washed my hands again.
"May I go to school now?" I asked after I had dried my hands.
"Of course."
Exhausted, my mind racing, I followed Mom to the garage, where the temperature was at least twenty degrees colder than inside the heated house. Mom jabbed the black button, and the garage door in Bay One rose, clacking and rattling along its tracks. I checked my phone. Text from Jazmin: I want to stay in bed. Missed call: Mrs. Abbot, our neighbor.
Mom and I climbed into the Mercedes and buckled our seat belts before Mom backed the car out of the garage. Morning fog enveloped us, obscuring the hills and the seven luxury spec-homes that constituted our neighborhood. The automatic wipers swished across the windshield.
"When do I leave for Palm Springs?" I asked.
"You got the last seat on the eight o'clock flight, Friday night."
"Great. I'll miss both nights of the Winter Showcase. Tanaka is going to kill me."
"I'm sorry, love bug. I wish there were some other way."
I could think of about a hundred different ways. Ways that wouldn't trash my life. I texted Jazmin: My parents are abandoning me at Christmas.
Christmas tunes played on the radio. I silenced them. Sighing, Mom drove to the freeway. I don't know why this part of Lamorinda is named Happy Valley. I sure wasn't feeling the joy.
Once we merged onto Highway Twenty-Four, my thoughts darted like cars changing lanes. "I have a life, too, you know. People count on me."
"I know, dear."
I rode the indignant fury train further. "I'm the stage manager. I hold the whole showcase together. Do you have idea how many set changes there are?"
"A lot?" Mom asked.
"Nine." I shook my head. "It is going to be chaos backstage."
"Isn't Jazmin in the showcase? She could help out."
"Jazmin is in the show band. She'll have her own worries." My phone beeped again. Mom emitted an exasperated sigh and transferred her full attention to the road. I read Jazmin's message: Are you kidding? What happened?
My thumbs flew across the keypad. They're leaving on a three-week cruise!
I glanced at Mom. Her white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel didn't mesh with the slow but smooth traffic. Maybe she wanted to escape my anger dump. I clamped my jaws together and checked myself in the car mirror. Crying had left me blotchy and swollen. Everyone will ask me what's the matter. My body felt heavy and jumpy — not a good combination.
Finally, we reached our freeway exit and merged onto the tree-studded back roads. "Can you call the church and tell them I can't cover my Holiday Bazaar shift?"
"Of course." We reached the school as the two mustard-colored school buses, empty save for the drivers, rumbled out of the parking lot. Mom pulled into the drop-off zone.
I unclicked my seat belt and reached for the door handle. "Be sure and tell them you're dumping me at your sister's weird mystery school where they train shamans, light warriors, and vampire slayers."
"There are no such thing as vampires, Ainslie."
"Oh, excuse me." I grabbed my backpack from the car floor. "Way to throw me to the werewolves, Mom."
"I'm just trying to hold my marriage together," Mom said.
"Guess Dad can't run from your problems if he's on a ship. Oh, except there are how many bars on board?"
Mom jerked as though I had slapped her. I climbed out, slammed the door, and stomped off, for once not caring if I beat the tardy bell. Jazmin waved from the Founder's Oak. Speed-walking toward her, I burst into tears.
Chapter Five
"Seriously? Your parents are ditching you at Christmas?" Jazmin asked as we headed to the Performing Arts building.
"Yes." I extracted a tissue from my purse and blew my nose. I detoured to the nearest trashcan, tossed the used tissue, then doused my palms with
"May I go to school now?" I asked after I had dried my hands.
"Of course."
Exhausted, my mind racing, I followed Mom to the garage, where the temperature was at least twenty degrees colder than inside the heated house. Mom jabbed the black button, and the garage door in Bay One rose, clacking and rattling along its tracks. I checked my phone. Text from Jazmin: I want to stay in bed. Missed call: Mrs. Abbot, our neighbor.
Mom and I climbed into the Mercedes and buckled our seat belts before Mom backed the car out of the garage. Morning fog enveloped us, obscuring the hills and the seven luxury spec-homes that constituted our neighborhood. The automatic wipers swished across the windshield.
"When do I leave for Palm Springs?" I asked.
"You got the last seat on the eight o'clock flight, Friday night."
"Great. I'll miss both nights of the Winter Showcase. Tanaka is going to kill me."
"I'm sorry, love bug. I wish there were some other way."
I could think of about a hundred different ways. Ways that wouldn't trash my life. I texted Jazmin: My parents are abandoning me at Christmas.
Christmas tunes played on the radio. I silenced them. Sighing, Mom drove to the freeway. I don't know why this part of Lamorinda is named Happy Valley. I sure wasn't feeling the joy.
Once we merged onto Highway Twenty-Four, my thoughts darted like cars changing lanes. "I have a life, too, you know. People count on me."
"I know, dear."
I rode the indignant fury train further. "I'm the stage manager. I hold the whole showcase together. Do you have idea how many set changes there are?"
"A lot?" Mom asked.
"Nine." I shook my head. "It is going to be chaos backstage."
"Isn't Jazmin in the showcase? She could help out."
"Jazmin is in the show band. She'll have her own worries." My phone beeped again. Mom emitted an exasperated sigh and transferred her full attention to the road. I read Jazmin's message: Are you kidding? What happened?
My thumbs flew across the keypad. They're leaving on a three-week cruise!
I glanced at Mom. Her white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel didn't mesh with the slow but smooth traffic. Maybe she wanted to escape my anger dump. I clamped my jaws together and checked myself in the car mirror. Crying had left me blotchy and swollen. Everyone will ask me what's the matter. My body felt heavy and jumpy — not a good combination.
Finally, we reached our freeway exit and merged onto the tree-studded back roads. "Can you call the church and tell them I can't cover my Holiday Bazaar shift?"
"Of course." We reached the school as the two mustard-colored school buses, empty save for the drivers, rumbled out of the parking lot. Mom pulled into the drop-off zone.
I unclicked my seat belt and reached for the door handle. "Be sure and tell them you're dumping me at your sister's weird mystery school where they train shamans, light warriors, and vampire slayers."
"There are no such thing as vampires, Ainslie."
"Oh, excuse me." I grabbed my backpack from the car floor. "Way to throw me to the werewolves, Mom."
"I'm just trying to hold my marriage together," Mom said.
"Guess Dad can't run from your problems if he's on a ship. Oh, except there are how many bars on board?"
Mom jerked as though I had slapped her. I climbed out, slammed the door, and stomped off, for once not caring if I beat the tardy bell. Jazmin waved from the Founder's Oak. Speed-walking toward her, I burst into tears.
Chapter Five
"Seriously? Your parents are ditching you at Christmas?" Jazmin asked as we headed to the Performing Arts building.
"Yes." I extracted a tissue from my purse and blew my nose. I detoured to the nearest trashcan, tossed the used tissue, then doused my palms with
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