Page 54 of The Life and (Medieval) Times of Kit Sweetly

“What’s going on?” he says, dazedly.

“Nothing. Go back to sleep,” I say softly.

“Kit,” my mom hisses more quietly once Chris is asleep again. “You’re going on the news?”

Quickly I tell her about Eddy and Bettina, and then I show her the email I got last night. “It’s on Monday, so we have to reply soon.”

“Well, thank goodness tomorrow’s Sunday so you have time to get your homework done. And they’re picking you up,” says Mom. “Which is perfect, since I have to work a morning shift and don’t want to fight traffic. But you’re going to miss the first day after spring break, and that won’t look good.”

“Mom. I’m like a month away from graduation. Missing one day will be fine. And this exposure could be what actually makes Len and the Castle listen to us!”

“Doing this will make Len mad and it will help you?”

Mom and Len have what you might call a complicated relationship. One mostly based on mutual dislike.

“Yes to both.”

“Fine,” she says with a smile. “You can do it. Give me that form.”

She signs it digitally, which I guess in retrospect I could’ve done. But it feels good to be honest with someone about this whole thing.

“Thanks, Mom,” I say. “You’re the best.”

She gives me a small hug. “Oh, by the way, did you see your father downstairs? He was supposed to bring the signed divorce papers by the house last night, but I told him we were here. He texted to say he’d bring them over sometime around this time.”

“He was there when I left,” I admit. “But I’m not sure he’s still there. He didn’t look great.”

Mom swears and grabs her purse. “Sit with Chris until I get back?”

“I’ll be here,” I say, grabbing the remote and changing the channel from baseball replays to a show on the History Channel about the Knights Templar.

Mom blows me a kiss as she hurries out the door.

25

NOT LONG AFTER THAT, I’M READING ON MY PHONE AS I walk through the lobby doors toward the bus stop. Dad was long gone (of course, he was), and Mom has sent me home to get her fresh clothes and do some laundry. The air is warm and hints at the summer yet to come. Part of me wants to see if I can find Dad, lurking somewhere around the hospital, but I don’t. Why pour salt in that wound? Plus, Mom will sort out how to get the divorce papers from him. Somehow.

Layla’s sent me fourteen texts since yesterday. I write her back, telling her all about Chris’s injuries and recovery plan.

Her reply comes in immediately.

Layla: So, remember how I was supposed to check on the website clicks and money coming in after Eddy and co boosted it?

Kit: Yes …

Layla: You’re up to a million hits and we’ve made three thousand dollars so far.

Kit: SHUT UP!

Layla: Not even lying. I’ll go over it with you later. Are you working tonight?

Kit: Nope. I’ve got to catch up on homework for the next few days. My next shift is on Wednesday.

Layla: Okay, I’m off tonight too. Text me if you want to hang out.

She texts a smiley face back, and I’m about to put my phone away, but Jett’s face appears on my screen.

“How’s Chris?” Jett asks when I pick up.