“Well obviously you already know what happened. So why don’t you just say what you need to say,” I bit out, staring out the window, refusing to look at her.
Julie sighed. “Ellie. Come on. I’m not the enemy here,” she said and I hated the tone in her voice. It was a tone that said she was disappointed in me. She was the only person whose opinion mattered in the slightest. And that wasn’t saying much because I didn’t really care what she thought either. I had stopped giving a shit a long time ago.
“I got in a fight,” I admitted, my arms crossed over my chest like a shield.
“Yeah and I also heard you trashed the teacher’s lounge after school. Did you really steal the coffee maker and smash the glass on the copier?” Julie asked incredulously.
I didn’t say anything. What was the point? She already knew the truth. Otherwise we wouldn’t be having this conversation.
“This is serious stuff, Ellie. You’re thirteen years old now. One more year of this and you can be sent to juvenile detention. And trust me, you do not want to end up there,” Julie lectured, slowing the car down as she pulled up in front of the two-story white house where I was currently living.
“So let me guess the next part of this story,” I began, my jaw clenched. “The Georges want me out. They can’t handle me. I’m too ‘angry,’” I scoffed, using air quotes to make my point.
Julie frowned. “This is serious, Ellie,” she chastised; looking worried.
“Isn’t it always?” I mumbled, opening the car door. “I’ll go pack my stuff and be right back.”
Julie reached out and grabbed my arm, stopping me. I shook her off, baring my teeth. “Don’t touch me,” I hissed.
“What can I do to help you, Ellie? You’re a smart, amazing girl. You’re better then this. You don’t see what’s at the end of this road you’re traveling down, but I do. And I’m scared to death of where you’ll end up. I want more for you, kid,” she said and there were tears in her eyes.
I hated it when she got all emotional and touchy feely.
“I’ll be right back,” I responded through clenched teeth. I slammed the car door and went to get my stuff.
Time to get fobbed off on the next unsuspecting family.
**
“Ellie!”
I smiled at the sight of Julie Waterman waving her hand in my direction. I walked into Darla’s Drink and Dine and shook the snow out of my hair. It was coming down hard and I worried about getting back to Flynn’s with the way it was laying on the road.
I looked around my once familiar haunt to find that it had expanded in the last few years. Darla had obviously decided to reduce the size of the consignment shop in order to make room for more tables and chairs. The place was packed, which was unusual for lunchtime. Darla had never been known for her culinary cuisine. But her donuts were amazing.
Julie got to her feet and held her arms out. She had never cared much that I wasn’t the hugging sort. And after a time I had come to accept that I’d never be able to see her without subjecting myself to her brand of physical affection.
She patted me on the shoulder and beamed. “It is so good to see you!” she remarked enthusiastically. Julie was dressed in her usual wacked out grandma fashion with a long red skirt and ugly Christmas sweater, even though it was January. Her frizzy brown hair was held back in a banana clip, something I had never seen this side of 1989.
I took off my oversized wool coat and smoothed out my black, pencil skirt before sitting down. I crossed my legs feeling uncomfortable in what I was wearing. Julie’s eyes widened when she took in my outfit.
“Did someone die?” she asked, looking pointedly at my blue, button down blouse with the frilly collar.
“Hardy-har-har. I had a job interview, smart ass,” I told her, picking up the cup of coffee Julie had already ordered for me.
“A job interview? Really? That’s great! For what?” she asked, speaking rapidly.
“Nothing special. Just a receptionist gig at an accounting firm. I’ll know if I get a second interview by the end of the week,” I remarked off handedly, trying not to sound concerned. But I was definitely buzzing.
The interview had gone surprisingly well. Once Wilma removed the giant stick from her ass, she was actually a pretty nice lady. I had made sure to wear my best attitude and even laughed at her less than humorous attempts at jokes. I answered her questions decently enough and I thought I had presented myself pretty damn well, considering I wasn’t typically the type of person to make any sort of effort.
And even though I didn’t have much in the way of work experience, Wilma seemed okay with that. I had left the interview feeling cautiously optimistic.
“It sounds awesome, Ellie! I’m so proud of you!” Julie enthused, reaching across the table and putting her hand over mine. I stiffened, an instinctual response to being touched in any way. But instead of pulling away as I once would have, I turned my hand over and squeezed hers.
“Thanks.”
The café was loud and I was having a hard time hearing anything over the drone of voices. I looked around at the crowded room. “Since when is Darla’s so popular?” I asked. Julie picked up a donut and crammed it in her mouth, powdered sugar dusting her god-awful sweater.
