Falling Stars Read Free Page B

nearly a foot taller than her. “Sean. Calm. Down.” Her voice was firm, calm, and loving; hearing it brought tears to my eyes, because lately all I’d heard from her were the strained voices of stress, anger and sadness.
    Sean took a breath and closed his eyes. Silence fell.

Talk to me (Julia)
    I surveyed the chaos of Sarah’s departure for about five seconds. A mixture of milk and mustard was smeared from the center of the dinner table down to the end, an impressionist painting by an eccentric artist with primary colors and a brush made of Keds. The pattern continued on the floor and right out the door of the dining room.
    Sean had taken a deep breath and stopped shouting. My mother, however, was just about to get started again, and she didn’t know that anything she did now would just make things worse. Crank looked hungover and irritable, so he wasn’t going to help solve anything.
    “Mother, I think we should just skip lunch at this point. I’ll go up and help Carrie finish packing. Sean and Crank, do you think you can get the car ready for Carrie’s stuff?”
    I raised my eyebrows as I looked at Crank, hoping against hope he’d catch my drift. It wouldn’t take the two of them any time at all, but that wasn’t the point. The point was to separate my mother and Sean before one of them said something unforgivable.
    Crank nodded and I breathed a sigh of relief. “Come on, Sean,” he said, and the two of them headed back down the stairs.
    My mother looked at me, alarm on her face. “Julia, what—”
    I held a palm up. “Mother…just… Stop. Don’t ask.”
    Her eyes narrowed and she opened her mouth to say something which would undoubtedly be awful.
    “ Please , Mother. It’s fine. Let me help clean up in here, okay?”
    She gave me a dismissive look. “No. You go with Carrie. Everyone…out!”
    I didn’t need to hear that twice. I left right on Carrie’s heels, both of us light years behind the younger girls, who had managed to vanish without a trace. And that was no wonder, really. I tried to run away from our mother any chance I could.
    I hadn’t been in Carrie’s room since Christmas, but it looked much the same. A huge black poster showed a green planet, apparently sticking its tongue out, if planets could have tongues, with the reminder “DON’T PANIC” printed in large, friendly letters. Her bookshelves were doubled and tripled up, books stacked sideways and in crazy directions. The desk was clear; a close inspection would turn up certain items and keepsakes missing. Her closet, hanging open, was nearly empty. She was obviously ready to leave.
    She only had two suitcases, but one of them was very large.
    “I just need to get a couple last things in here,” she said.
    “Take your time,” I murmured. I leaned against the window, looking to Cabrillo Street below. Crank and Sean had the trunk of the Mustang open and were pulling things out. I glanced at the trunk, then Carrie’s suitcases. We should be okay.
    “What’s going on with you and Crank?” she asked.
    “What?”
    She tugged on the zipper to one of her suitcases, trying her hardest to get it closed. It was resisting her. I walked over and held the suitcase still.
    “Don’t try to snow me, Julia.”
    I shrugged. “We’ve… It…” I closed my eyes because I didn’t know how to say it.
    She stopped with the suitcase. “Julia? Talk to me.”
    I shook my head. “We’ve just… It’s been awful. The tour.” To my horror, I felt my throat closing. Tears, unwanted, unwarranted, out of control, were clawing their way out. I forced them back.
    “What’s been awful?” she asked.
    I didn’t know where to begin. It had started with a stupid argument really. Crank had gotten pissed one day when he saw me talking with Preston Reeve. I found myself shaking my head. “I’ll… It’s complicated. Really complicated. I’ll tell you later, okay? Right now let’s just get going.”
    She nodded her head. “All right. But