His pump was going to go off again any second for another low reading.
“I don’t have any,” he told me. “That was the last pack.”
“Then something else,” I said, elbows deep in the mailbox. “Eat something else.”
Tag didn’t unzip his backpack.
“No!” I whisper-yelled, pressing the last piece of tape intoplace and then quietly slamming the mailbox door shut. “That’s it? Those fruit snacks were really theonlyfood you brought?”
He shrugged half-heartedly. “I’ve had to force myself to eat today because of nerves.”
“Well, what about a drink?” I asked. “You must have a Gatorade or something.”
“Alex’s backpack. There wasn’t enough room in mine.”
I groaned. “God, Tag, I take my earlier statement back. You did aterriblejob packing.”
“I know.” He said. “First no condom, now this…”
Blood burned in my veins.First no condom.
Was he trying to be funny? I held myself back from shoving him. There couldn’t be a worse way to lighten the mood.
When his pump inevitably went off, he silenced it…but that far from solved the problem. “Follow me.” I beckoned Tag back to my house. “Weneedto get you some food.”
You can do it, I told myself.You can break into your own house.
And technically, the voice in the back of my head said,you aren’t even breaking in since you left the back door unlocked…
Yes!I straightened my shoulders.Capital point!
Christ, it was late. An imaginary conversation admonished me that I should be in bed.
“What would you like?” I asked a pale-faced Tag aftersettling him at the base of the tire swing tree. We were right under my window, and I could hear the white noise machine I’d put on a loop. “We might have Gatorade, but—”
I dropped off once I twisted the doorknob, but it refused to turn. It was locked?Howcould it be locked? I’d made sure to leave itunlocked before I left!
This could not be happening.
Mom, I thought. Had my mom woken up earlier and gone downstairs for a glass of water or more tea? Maybe I hadn’t shut the door tightly enough, and the wind had blown it open? I pictured her half-comatose, closing the door and flipping the lock with a yawn.
“There’s always the doggie door,” Tag pointed out when I visibly started squirming, my neck flushing. “You could fit through there, no problem.”
I glanced at the doggie door. The teachers who’d lived in the cottage before us installed it, and while my mom and I didn’t have any pets, Josh’s coonhound loved it. She was always going in and out, in and out…
“Promise you won’t tell anyone,” I said. “Alex included.”
He nodded seriously. “Yes, Alex excluded.”
I glared at him before dropping down on the back stoop to crawl through the door. It was easy enough to get myself in position, but I felt so stupid when my head popped through the rubber flap and into the kitchen.I could’ve gone through the actual door, I realized.I could’veunlockedthe actual door,because there’s a goddamn house key on the goddamn key ring in my goddamn pocket.
Outside, Tag was laughing as if I’d voiced my revelation.
But I couldn’t go back. Nope, I’d committed to the doggie door.
My heart rate quickened when I noticed the kitchen’s overhead lights were not like I’d left them. They were now dimmed instead of fully turned off. My mom had definitely visited the kitchen since I’d skipped town. “Super,” I whispered, then scrambled through the doggie door and shot up into a standing position.
The fridge was against the far wall, so I slipped off my sneakers and took it one step at a time in my socks. There was a burst of light when I finally pulled the refrigerator door open, but the deep breath I took was premature. Everywhere I looked, there were takeout containers and Tupperware full of leftovers. They were all systematically sorted and stacked but there nonetheless. We hadn’t done inventory in a while.
