The Princess of Las Pulgas by C. Lee McKenzie Read Free Book Online

College after
I graduate.”
    By the time we pull to a
stop in front of my house I don’t want this day to end.
    When I look up, he’s
already opened my door. Is this pampering?
I really like it.
    On the way up the brick path I think,
Awkward moment on the horizon. When we get to my door what then? Do
we shake hands? Stay three feet apart while each of us searches for
the good-bye that’s just right?
    Before I’m in a total
bunch, he says, “I had a great time. Hope I’ve made up for the
other night.”
    No handshake.
Nothing.
    He’s back to his car and
waving as he drives off.
    Did he have somewhere else
to go? Maybe he didn’t like me as much as I thought. Maybe . . .
Stop imagining yourself into a snit, Carlie. He spent the whole
afternoon with you. He said he had fun and he told you a lot about
himself. He likes you .
    Having him in my life has
to be some kind of sign, a sign that there’s a change coming, a
change that will make my life better than it is now.
    I can’t help the happiness
that starts inside and spreads across my face. Carlie Edmund may be
moving away, but she might be taking along one senior at Channing
that every girl craves.
    As I open the front door my
cell phone chimes “Jingle Bells.”— Lena. Mental note: change those
Christmas tones, sometime before summer. “Hi, Lena. I’ve got so
much—”
    “Mom caved. I can take the
car my uncle offered after all. And you will not believe this! Gene
Connell made a pass at me. I was at the Shack and he, like, sits
down right next to me and gives me the look.”
    “That’s . . . interesting.
I’ve—”
    “I’ve decided to teach Eric
a lesson for flirting with that French exchange student. Maybe I’ll
just break our date for the Spring Fling. He’ll go green when I
show up at the dance with Gene.” She takes a short breath. “Where
have you been all day? I tried to call you on your cell a couple of
times. You want to go to the mall maybe see that new movie? What is
it? Never mind. Oh I have to go. Mom’s calling. Gotta keep on her
good side until I get the pink slip to the car. Ciao.”
    I close my phone. Suddenly
that bubbly feeling vanishes. Pop! One bubble. Pop! Another. Thanks for all your good news, Lena. Thanks for
not wanting to hear any of mine. Thanks for reminding me that today
was probably the single good one for the rest of my life which is
most generally lived in the toilet these days.
    Keith passes me in the
entrance hall.
    “Going out?” I’m trying to
keep that promise again. Making eye contact. Not
growling.
    “No, I’m walking backwards.
Didn’t you notice?” Keith snarks, and then slams the door hard
behind him.
    He makes keeping my promise
impossible. When I start toward the stairs, Mom stands on the
bottom step, her eyes red. “We . . . another argument.” She turns
and runs up the stairs then her bedroom door slams.
    At least I have company in
the toilet.

Chapter 14
     
    The week before we move has
a jet rocket strapped to its back. No other time in my life has
disappeared this fast, and only one other time has been so steeped
in gloom.
    I sit in the middle of my
bedroom floor surrounded by boxes. How
many decisions can I make in a single day without a
brain-collapse? Choices surround me like a
grass fire, closing in, sucking the oxygen from the air.
    There are all sorts of
categories, like Returns—things to give back to friends I probably
won’t ever see again. Treasures—I can’t leave behind anything in
this stack. Then there’s the dreaded Undecided—way too much stuff
to fit into a single packing box, which is what I’m allowed. I have
until tomorrow morning at eight when three men from Shamrock Movers
show up to haul off the furniture and boxes too big for the
car.
    From the Undecided pile I
pluck a rhinestone studded box. Lena and I made these last year at
Christmas to raise money for the homeless. We sold all but one, so
I bought it. I used to be charitable; now I need some of that
charity