She doesn’t look up when she quietly says, “I’d be great if I didn’t have to go home and listen to my parents fight all night again.”
I don’t really know what to say to that. Things haven’t been easy with Mom and Dad, but I’ve never felt like I couldn’t bear to go home.
“You can spend the night with me.” It’s out of my mouth before I even have a second to realize what a huge mistake I’ve made. Kiera. Spending the night. At my house. What was I thinking?
She studies me for a minute and I kind of wonder if she’s trying to give me a chance to take it back. “At your house?”
“Well, one of them. I’m at my dad’s house tonight.” Oh crud. And tonight’s my dad’s night. What if her dad has to drop her off or, even worse, what if he says she can’t spend the night?
This was a terrible idea. Asking someone to spend the night is like the highest level of friendship. You have to totally trust them. Because what if they hear you fart in your sleep? Or find out you have to cover your body in zit cream before bed every night? Or what if your parents let embarrassing stories slip? Basically, anything and everything could go wrong.
She pauses, and her eyes dart from side to side, like she’s about to cross the street. “I guess it’s better than being at home right now.”
I’m not really sure what to say to that. “Oscar will probably be there too.”
“Okay,” she says.
“So that’s a yes?” I ask, practically holding my breath.
“Sure.”
Yup. I’m dead. Totally for sure dead.
Chapter Twenty
No Right Choice
After school, Dad is sitting at the kitchen table in his dirty old painting overalls, which would drive Mom nuts. It’s kind of funny to see all the things Dad does differently when Mom’s not around to have things her way. Like the silverware. He keeps it all the way on the other side of the kitchen. And he doesn’t organize his cups. Just puts them in any which way.
“Hey, Sweet Pea,” he says as I walk in. “I just got a, uh, interesting phone call from Mrs. Bryant.”
I hate the idea of Kiera not being allowed to come over just because of her dad, but I’ve also kind of had my fingers crossed all day that something would happen and shewouldn’t be able to come over. I sit down across from him with my backpack still on. “Uh. Okay.”
“Well, she says Kiera’s spending the night here tonight.”
“Um, yeah. About that... I totally forgot to check with you first. I’m so sorry. It was kind of an in-the-moment thing when I invited her.”
He nods. “It’s okay. I let Mrs. Bryant think I knew.” I want to ask about Kiera’s dad and what he had to say about Kiera spending the night here. But I don’t know how to bring it up without making things awkward. I wasn’t supposed to know about the big fight Dad and Mr. Bryant got into. But I heard him and Mom talking about it at the kitchen table after Dad had moved out. He came over late one night and I think I even heard him cry. Just thethoughtof Dad crying made me cry too.
“I played it totally cool,” he continues. “But she did say that Kiera wouldn’t be allowed to sleep over if there was a boy here.”
“What?” I ask. “It’s Oscar. Why do people have to make such a big deal about boy-and-girl stuff? He’s my friend. If we wanted to do... ya know, stuff, I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t take a sleepover for that to happen.”
Dad shrugs and shakes his head, like he’s trying to rid himself of the thought of me + a boy + doing stuff. “I hear you loud and clear, Sweet Pea. I’m not saying you’re wrong. And I’m happy to have the two of themover, but if you want to play by Mrs. Bryant’s rules, you gotta choose one or the other.” He stands up and knocks the top of the table with his fist. “I’m gonna hop in the shower. Kiera’s number is on the fridge. You let me know what you decide.”
I shake my head. “Yeah. Okay.”
I plop my elbows down on the table and cradle my face in my hands. This just stinks.
At first, I think the clear choice is Oscar. But the more I think about it, the more I realize there’s no good answer.
I feel just sick with guilt every time I think about how down Kiera was today. Maybe she’s just using me to get away from her parents, but what if we could go back to the way things were? And Oscar... well, he’s my best friend until the end of forever. No way could I ditch him like this. But then again, Oscar comes over every Friday, so maybe it’s okay for us to take a weekend off. And maybe it is kind of weird to have a boy spend the night at my house every Friday. I don’t know.
Either way, I’m running out of time to make a choice. I reach for the phone on the counter and punch a number into the keypad.
A voice answers on the third ring. “Sweet Pea!”
“Mrs. Rivera?”
