The File on Angelyn Stark Read Free Page B

to garden.”
    “I think Eleanor’s okay for how she is. Just old.”
    “Not Eleanor,” I say. “Mrs. Daly.” At Jeni’s expression: “That’s how I knew her.”
    Jeni nods. “Mrs. Daly. Okay.”
    “She was a grandma to me. The only one I knew.”
    “I miss mine,” Jeni says. “It’s too far to visit her from here.”
    “You’re from the Bay Area?”
    “Oh, you heard that? In the bathroom. I wasn’t sure.”
    “What are you doing downtown anyway?” I ask.
    “Exploring,” Jeni says. “This place is like a toy town.”
    I look for Mom’s truck. “The same crap happens here as anywhere.”
    “I guess it does. School today was as bad as at my last one.”
    “Hey, I didn’t know Mr. Rossi would give you detention. Or that you’d be in class with us. He has this thing about kids being late.”
    “You knew I’d be in
some
class. Late
somewhere.
”
    “We’re not in the bathroom now. Or at school. Forget that stuff.”
    Jeni dips her head. “He got you anyway. On the street, with the beer.”
    “Yeah. He got me. So, call it even?”
    “If you want.”
    We’re quiet.
    “Come see Mrs. Daly,” Jeni says. “I volunteer there on weekends. It’s Blue Creek Care Home.”
    “No. Her grandson wrecked what we had. Years ago. He’s a freak.”
    “Her grandson—Nathan?”
    “Yeah.” I draw it out. “Nathan Daly. You know him?”
    “Nathan’s my ride,” Jeni says.
    “He’s coming here?”
    She looks confused. “I think Nathan is sweet.”
    I’m standing, scooping my backpack. “Got to go.”
    “Wait, Angelyn. What did Nathan do?”
    I check the street. Finally, Mom’s truck.
    “Ask him,” I say. Then: “Don’t. Nathan lies.”
    I take off running. And hear him calling:
“Angelyn!”
    Mom’s got me spotted. In stopped traffic, she’s waving like she’s on the
Titanic
. I sprint the rest of the way, settling beside her in a sweaty lump.
    “Let’s go,” I say.
    We’re stuck.
    Mom clears her throat. “That is not who I think it is. It can’t be.”
    “It’s not my fault,” I say, and see Nathan stopped on the sidewalk, his mouth turned down like some sad clown’s.
    “Angelyn, it’s never your fault.”
    “Mom, don’t blame me! He just showed up.”
    Her mouth is tight. “You are not to see that boy. Not to talk to him.”
    “I
know
. Like I’d want to. I hate Nathan worse than anyone.”
    “Do you hear me?” she says, punching out each word.
    “Yes,” I say.
    Traffic moves. I sit back.
    Mom sniffs. “Is that beer I smell?”
    My heart beats faster. “Not on me.”
    She cracks a window.
    My stepdad is in the front room, spread along the couch watching baseball. Danny works on-call construction, but no one’s called in a while. He doesn’t look up as I cut through on the way to my room. Mom follows, and I hear him say, “Hey, Beautiful.”
    “I ate in town,” I call back.
    “You’re eating with us,” Mom says behind me.
    Dinner is premade lasagna. I pick while Danny shovels. Mom talks about her job—directing traffic for the whole school, the way she tells it.
    “Angelyn screwed up again,” she says at the end of one story.
    I drop my fork. “Mom, I told you how it was.”
    She pokes Danny’s shoulder. “Hon, you’d be so mad if you knew.”
    “What was it this time?” he asks.
    “Mom,” I say, as loud as I dare.
    “That boy—the one who used to live next door—Nathan—”
    “Mom!” I shout it.
    Danny’s eyes flick past. “Sherry, you handle it. She’s yours.”
    “Angelyn, you’re grounded,” Mom says.
    She sounds so happy it makes me sick.

CHAPTER SIX
Angelyn, Twelve
    From behind the couch, Danny flips the bill of my ball cap down
.
    “Got you, Angie,” he whispers. Mom is still asleep
.
    “Nuh-uh.” I push it up, grinning as he vaults over to join me
.
    Danny pats the cushions. “Where’s the remote?”
    I snuggle into my corner. “Sunday mornings I say what’s on.”
    “But—” He flaps his hand at the TV. “This