The Poison Apples by Lily Archer Read Free Book Online

with Spencer, but she was too focused on building a castle out of her mashed potatoes and humming a song under her breath.
    We all finished eating and I cleared the dishes off the table and brought them into the kitchen. I came back into the dining room and sat down. My mother and father smiled pleasantly at us.
    â€œWhat’s going on?” I asked.
    My mother’s smile got wider. And creepier. Her eyes were glittering like they were behind a mask.
    Spencer finally stopped humming and looked up. “What?” she asked, as if we were all waiting for her to do something.
    My father cleared his throat. “Your mother and I are separating,” he said.
    There was a stunned silence. My mother’s face looked like it was going to fall off.
    â€œWhy?” I asked.
    â€œWe don’t love each other anymore,” my mother said. She was still smiling.
    â€œYou don’t ?” Spencer squealed.
    â€œWe haven’t loved each other for a long time,” said my father.
    â€œOh,” said Spencer. Her voice sounded so small that I almost didn’t recognize it.
    â€œI’m moving in with Candy Lamb,” my father said. “You remember Candy.”
    Spencer shot me a pleading you’re-the-older-sister-do-something! look.
    But I had no idea what I was supposed to do.
    â€œCandy is a very nice woman,” my mother added.
    My father nodded. I could hear the clock ticking in the other room.
    â€œWell,” I said, “I think this is dumb. I think the two of you are really dumb.”
    â€œIt has nothing to do with you guys,” my mother said. “You know that, right? It has nothing to do with you.”
    There was a long silence.
    â€œI’m going to go do my homework,” I announced. I pushed my chair back and stood up.
    â€œDo you want to talk about anything, Mol?” my mother asked. Her eyes were still gleaming desperately.
    â€œNo,” I said. “I just think you’re both stupid jerks.”
    I walked out of the room, up the stairs, and into my bedroom. I sat down at my desk and pulled out my English textbook. A single tear dropped out of my eye and onto the page. It landed on the word until and made the black letters blur on the white page.
    I stared at the textbook for a long time, not reading, just letting my eyes pass over the same sentences over and over again. I felt like my entire chest had been hollowed out. But the same thought kept running through my brain, over and over again. Eventually I said it out loud.
    â€œGot to get out of this stupid, stupid town,” I whispered.
    Downstairs I could hear the sounds of my mother and father washing the dishes and cleaning up the kitchen. They weren’t saying anything. Then I heard Spencer stomp up the staircase and slam her bedroom door. Outside my window, the crickets seemed to be chirping louder than they’d ever chirped before.
    *   *   *
    I didn’t tell anyone that I was applying to Putnam Mount McKinsey, except for the two teachers I needed to ask for recommendations. While I was filling out application forms, I just checked yes when the school asked if I wanted to be considered for financial aid. I got a copy of my transcript from the principal’s office. I forged my mother’s signature. I put the entire application into a large manila envelope and put it in the mailbox downtown. Then I made a conscious decision to forget that I’d ever applied at all. After all, if they let me in—and why would they?—we’d never be able to afford it, even if they did give me some financial aid. It was unclear why I’d applied at all. But I just felt like I had to.
    It was my first year at North Forest High. I’d never gotten along with my classmates, but somehow things got even worse once we all entered ninth grade. The last of my fellow awkward female students grew into themselves and got contacts and straightened their hair and started