Reagan never got caught that night and Eddy didn’t quite know how he felt about that. She’d taken a massive gamble but she was only going to see that as part of the rush. He had no doubt whatsoever she’d do it again. And again. At the same time, though, she was happy. Not exactly the sort of happy he wanted her to be but if this is what it took to bring her out of the down zone she’d been in since her dad had left, then he was prepared to take the bad with the good.
Mrs Crowe wouldn’t though. If she found out, there’d be all hell to pay.
Skating the thin ice of her little secret, Reagan had even managed to escape the second week of her grounding. Mrs Crowe had obviously felt bad about the length of the punishment and by the following weekend Reagan was back in the real world. On one condition: that this Ryan boy comes and meets her. With a roll of her eyes, Reagan had agreed, and on Sunday evening the guy in question was invited for dinner.
Eddy watched with muted interest as she pranced around her bedroom, painting herself up, asking him if the blue dress looked better than the black one and generally exuding a nervousness that was uncommon to her. Just for the record the black dress was better. In fact, the black dress was stunning, movie-star stunning. On that basis, Eddy almost told her to wear the blue dress . . . but he couldn’t do that, not to Reagan.
When the fancy car with the roaring engine pulled up out front, Reagan had run out of her room without so much as giving Eddy a parting wave. She was like a kid at Christmas. Eddy had darted over to the front window, feeling a sudden flush of embarrassment as this ‘Ryan’ caught his movement and, for a horrid moment, also caught his eye.
Ryan hesitated and looked unsure of himself for a second, then fumbled and dropped his car keys on the grass. Having picked them up, he shot Eddy one more quizzical glance before Reagan was out the door and taking his hand with the same effervescence she’d left her bedroom.
Drifting back into the dimness of his room, Eddy decided the best way to pass the time was to bury himself in the textbooks. He turned a lot of pages that night, but found that the next day he had to read them all over again.
By Wednesday afternoon an artificial normalcy had settled over proceedings. The actions were all the same but the foundation for them was something different altogether.
It was like a scene from a play where the actors knew their places but the plot seemed to have shifted to another purpose. Both Eddy and Reagan were at their window ledges, the familiar textbooks spread out in front of them, brows furrowed in concentration.
‘This isn’t maths,’ complained Reagan. ‘How can maths have letters in it?’
‘It’s al-algebra.’
‘I don’t care what they call it, it’s just not maths. If “a” equals “one”, just call it “one”. How hard is that?’
‘It’s for the rest of the equation.’
‘It’s stupid is what it is. I mean, when am I going to need to use this stuff?’
‘I d-don’t know.’
‘Exactly.’
‘But y-you need to know it for the exam.’
If Reagan’s patience was a frayed rope, then Eddy’s comment seemed to have snapped the very last thread. She slammed her book closed and tossed it on to her bed with an explosion of energy that spoke of a decision made.
‘I’m sick of it, Eddy. Exams, exams, exams. We have to live too, you know. Do you reckon they think about that when they make “a” equal “one”? “A” equals bullcrap as far as I’m concerned.’
‘Then bullcrap also equals one.’ Eddy thought the attempt at humour would help. It didn’t, though.
‘It’s just not me,’ reasoned Reagan. ‘Some people are made for this stuff and some aren’t. I’m one of the aren’ts. All of this,’ she said waving her arms at the books, ‘is just a waste of my time. Ryan never passed his exams and he’s earning all right money. Look at his car. I’m thinking that when my birthday comes around I’m gonna leave school, Eddy.’
‘Oh. D-does your mum know about that?’
‘Not yet.’
‘What will you do?’
‘I don’t know. Maybe be a make-up artist or something along those lines.’ Reagan’s tone was defensive but her eyes dared him to challenge her.
‘I thought you w-wanted to be a rich and famous movie star.’
‘Maybe I still can be. Tell me where I need to know stupid maths to be a movie star?’
Eddy was getting very used to shrugging around Reagan, so he added one more to the pile.
‘My point exactly. And even if it doesn’t work out straight away, I’ll find a job to fill in time.’
‘Make-up stuff?’
‘Whatever comes along. If it pays okay, then when I’m eighteen I can move in with Ryan.’
‘Oh.’