Tag Along Read Free Page B

man in the next room who hasn’t said more than ten words to me since I showed up.
    â€œYou know,” she says, “you’re always welcome to visit, anytime you want. You should bring your friend next time. What’s her name, Vanessa?”
    I nod. “Yeah. Vanessa.”
    â€œYou two used to come stay with me all the time when you were little girls.”
    â€œI don’t really hang out with Vanessa anymore,” I say.
    â€œWell, that’s too bad,” she says. “You two were such good friends.”
    â€œIt’s okay, Gee-ma,” I say. I lean in and give her another kiss on the cheek. “You have a good night. Save some of that pie for me.”
    â€œOf course, dear,” she says. “This is for supper tomorrow. I’m going to roast a chicken. You’ll be here, won’t you?”
    Her voice is so desperate that it breaks my heart.
    â€œWouldn’t miss it,” I tell her.
    â€œIf you make any friends, feel free to invite them along,” she says. “The more the merrier.”
    I just smile. That might be expecting a bit too much.
    I should get one thing straight. I did not want to come here for the weekend. It’s not my fault that my father is depressed and my mom decided to leave him. It’s definitely not my fault that he lost his job and his apartment and ended up living with Gee-ma out in the suburbs.
    But even though my dad’s issues are not officially my problem, I figured the least I could do was come spend a few days with him. After the worst year of my life, what’s one more shitty weekend?
    Besides, it’s prom night at my school, and I can’t think of a better reason to get the hell out of the city. Maybe if I still had friends, I’d feel differently. Vanessa would have spent weeks dragging me along with her to every secondhand and vintage store in the city, finding us something to wear. I’d have probably complained, but I know she would have made us look pretty awesome. If things with Rick hadn’t ended the way they did, I might have even had a date. Actually, scratch that—there’s no way in hell Rick would ever be caught dead at a high-school dance.
    In the porch, I quickly unzip my backpack to be sure I have everything I need. Then I close it up, toss it over my shoulder and head out the door, stopping to glance up and down the street. Gee-ma’s house is on one of those streets that reminds you of a hall of mirrors, just one brick bungalow after another. Jesus, the suburbs are depressing.
    I think about what Gee-ma said about making friends. Having to spend a weekend here might not be so horrible if I actually knew someone, but meeting people is the last thing on my agenda. If I’ve learned one thing over the past year, it’s that people are better off on their own. Especially when you’ve got a hobby like mine.
    On the sidewalk, I stop and consider which direction to go. It doesn’t really matter. I’m on a mission into uncharted territory. It’s just a matter of walking until I find what I’m looking for.
    I decide to turn left, but after only a few steps I hear laughter, and a gaggle of high-school kids turns the corner a couple of blocks away. Judging from the way they’re dressed—blazers and ties, colorful dresses—it’s prom night here too. I quickly cross the street and hustle in the opposite direction from the Teenage Zombies From Suburban Hell.
    It’s going to be a long and painful weekend, I can tell you that much.

ROEMI
    Worst. Prom. Ever.
    Okay, so you are not going to believe any of this. I had a date. To the prom. A prom date. And this boy is hot to trot, fire and brimstone, one sexy little Abercrombie & Fitch-style love interest deluxe.
    John. Hot John. I met him online, and he’s totally sweet and really cool, and he obviously has good taste in men. We hit it off immediately. I was all sup and he was all nahmuch, you?