"Youliedto me?"
Tully could barely maintain eye contact, she was so ashamed. "I didn't mean to."
"People don't lie accidentally. It's not like tripping over a crack in the sidewalk."
"You don't know how it feels to be embarrassed by your mom."
"Are you kidding? You should have seen what my mom wore out to dinner last—"
"No," Tully said. "You don't know."
"Tell me."
Tully knew what Kate was asking of her; she wanted the truth that had spawned the lie, but Tully didn't know if she could do it, turn all her pain into words and pass them out like cards. All her life she'd kept these secrets close. If she told Kate the reality and then lost her as a friend, it would be unbearable.
Then again, if she didn't tell the truth, she'd lose the friendship for sure.
"I was two years old," she finally said, "when my mom first dumped me at my grandparents' house. She went to town for milk and came back when I was four. When I was ten, she showed up again and I thought it meant she loved me. That time she let go of me in a crowd. The next time I saw her I was fourteen. My gran's letting us live in this house and sending us money every week. That'll last until my mom bails again—which she will do."
"I don't understand."
"Of course you don't. My mom isn't like yours. This is the longest amount of time I've ever spent with her. Sooner or later she'll get bored and move on without me."
"How can a mother do that?"
Tully shrugged. "I think there's something wrong with me."
"There's nothing wrong with you. She's the loser. But I still don't get why you lied to me."
Tully finally looked at her. "I wanted you to like me."
"Youwere worried aboutme?" Kate burst out laughing. Tully was just about to ask her what was so funny when she sobered and said, "No more lies, right?"
"Absolutely."
"We'll be best friends forever," Kate said earnestly. "Okay?"
"You mean you'll always be there for me?"
"Always," Kate answered. "No matter what."
Tully felt an emotion open up inside her like some exotic flower. She could practically smell its honeyed scent in the air. For the first time in her life, she felt totally safe with someone. "Forever," she promised. "No matter what."
Kate would always remember the summer after eighth grade as one of the best times of her life. Every weekday, she rushed through her morning chores without complaint and babysat her brother until three o'clock, when her mom came home from running errands and volunteering on the 4-H council. After that, Kate was free. Weekends were, for the most part, her own.
She and Tully rode their bikes all over the valley and spent hours inner-tubing down the Pilchuck River. In the late afternoons, they stretched out on tiny towels, wearing neon-colored crocheted bikinis, their skin slick with a mixture of baby oil and iodine, listening to Top 40 music on the transistor radio they never left behind. They talked about everything: fashion, music, boys, the war and what was still going on over there, what it would be like to be a reporting duo, movies. Nothing was off-limits; no question couldn't be volleyed over the net. Now it was late August and they were in Kate's bedroom, packing makeup for their trip to the fair. As usual, Kate had to change clothes and put on makeup after she left the house. If she wanted to look cool, anyway. Her mom still thought she was too young for everything. "You got your tube top?" Tully asked.
"Got it."
Grinning at their own brilliant plan, they headed downstairs, where Dad was sitting on the sofa, watching television.
"We're going to the fair now," Kate said, thankful that her mother wasn't here. Mom would notice the bag that was too big for the county fair. Her X-ray vision would probably see through the macramé exterior to the clothes, shoes, and makeup within.
"Be careful, you two," he said without looking up.
It was what he always said now, ever since girls had started disappearing in Seattle. The news was calling the killer "Ted" these days because some girl at Lake Sammamish State Park had actually gotten away and given a description and his first name to the police. Girls all across the state were terrified. You couldn't see a yellow VW bug without worrying that it was Ted's car.
"We'll be super careful," Tully said, smiling. She loved it when Kate's parents worried about them.
