Daisy snuffled around on Mel’s bed, hunting for pretzels in the folds of the quilt. She gave up and gave Mel one of those sad looks.

“They’re all gone. Sorry.” Mel sighed. “George would kill me if he knew.”

He would kill her for a lot of reasons.

She flopped over on her back. “He doesn’t trust me,” she told the dog, softly so Tish wouldn’t hear. “He only lets me baby-sit you because he doesn’t care about you. He hopes you’ll run off and never come home. Like my folks would’ve been glad if I’d never made it back from Florida. If that pervert had left me dead by the side of the road, I never would’ve embarrassed them again.”

Mel grabbed her pillow around her ears so she couldn’t hear cars going by on the street. She was the only twenty-one-year-old in town who didn’t have her own vehicle. Anybody else could go anywhere, anytime, but she couldn’t even walk down the block. The cops would be watching. She was trapped.

It reminded her of the time she’d helped Stu paint the porch when she was five or six. She’d painted herself into a corner. He’d laughed his head off, and then he’d reached over and picked her up with his long arms.

Now she’d painted herself into a different kind of corner, and it wasn’t something her big brother could get her out of even if he wanted to. And he wouldn’t want to.

She’d never had such a miserable birthday. Stu never called. Her parents never called, of course, but Tish was being too sweet, like that awful principal at the middle school who’d thought she could get kids to talk by treating them like her little buddies.

“You are a dead duck, Melanie John,” Mel said quietly. “Dead. Duck.”

She lit a cigarette from the pack she’d bought on Friday night on her way to pick up her clothes. She didn’t bother to crack the window. “Sin boldly,” Calv had said.

Then she tried to decide what to do.

Pack, she decided. She could unpack later if a miracle happened and she could stay, but if she had to make a run for it, she’d be ready to go.

It didn’t take long. Even now, including the “new” clothes she’d stashed under the bed, she didn’t have much to take with her. The clothes rolled up nicely in the sleeping bag, but she couldn’t think of a good way to pack the shoes.

Whatever. So she was down to one pair again.

My little barefoot beggar, Grandpa John had called her when she ran around barefoot all the time. He’d said a barefoot beggar was ready to step onto holy ground. Another one of his weird little sayings.

She hesitated when she saw the napkin rings on top of the dresser. It didn’t seem right to take them now, but it would be rude to leave them. She didn’t know what to do.

So she lit another cigarette. She didn’t usually do that, one after another, but her nerves were shot. She couldn’t even focus on smoking. She picked up her cig, put it down, walked around the room, tried to think. Tried to pray.

Her life was a mess, but she didn’t have a better life anywhere else.

She’d just remembered the toiletries in the bathroom when Tish knocked on the door. Mel lowered the bedroll to the floor and tried to sound innocent. “Yes?” she said.

“You’ve got company,” Tish said.

“Great,” she grumbled, picturing Robot Face on the porch. “Here we go again.”

Shoot, maybe it was Darren. She would smell like smoke, and she hadn’t even brushed her teeth.

She padded to the bedroom door and opened it. Tish had walked away already, not even trying to explain who it was.

“Tish,” she called softly. “Who is it?”

No answer.

Pretending to be calm, Mel walked into the living room. And there stood Hayley with a big grin on her face.

“Happy twenty-first birthday, doll!”

“Oh my gosh! I thought you forgot.”

“No way! We’re going out.”

“I can’t afford—”

“My treat. I’m taking you out for your first legal drunk. I mean drink.” Hayley giggled.

Mel put her finger to her lips and widened her eyes in warning.

“Oops,” Hayley whispered. “Of course I remembered,” she said in her usual voice. “I didn’t have a number to call, but I heard you were staying here.”

Tish came in from the kitchen, drying her hands on a towel. “Introduce us, Mel.”

Mel raced through the introductions in a hurry. Hayley managed to act sweet and dignified, but Tish must have heard that little slip-up because her eyes held more suspicion than friendliness. Or maybe Hayley’s tattoos bothered her. Mel loved them and wanted some too, but she’d promised Grandpa John she wouldn’t get any skin art, ever.

“Get dressed up a little, Mel,” Hayley said. “We’re gonna have fun.”

Tish’s lips thinned to a tight, angry line. She crooked her finger and gave Mel the stink-eye. “Melanie, may I have a word with you?”

Reliving how she’d felt when she was six and she broke the goldfish bowl, Mel slouched after her into the kitchen. “What?”

“I heard what she said about drinking. You’re an adult, and I’m not your mom, but your friend looks like trouble.”

“No, she’s a good person. She’s the only real friend I’ve had ever since, like, kindergarten.”

“You don’t take care of a friendship by doing something stupid like drinking and driving.”

Mel rolled her eyes. “I won’t drink.”

“On your twenty-first birthday? You expect me to believe that, after what Hayley said?”

“She said it. I didn’t. I might have one little drink, but that’s all. I promise.”

“But what about Hayley? And she’s driving! There are some things you can’t undo, Mel, like getting a DUI and having it on your record forever, or getting in an accident.”

“If she has too much, I’ll drive.”

“You don’t even have a license. Oh, Melanie.” Tish folded her arms across her chest. “You’re an adult. Please act like one. I won’t wait up for you.”

“Trust me. I’ll stay perfectly sober.”

“All right. That’s your line in the sand. Don’t cross it. Cross that line and you’re out on your ear. Got it?”

“Got it. Now I’d better change my clothes.”

“Oh, and now I’m supposed to take care of the dog for you again?”

“You know you love her.”

“I do not!”

“Yes you do, because she’s George’s dog and you love George.”

Mel escaped Tish and returned to the living room, where Hayley stood gawking at that awful old portrait. “Wait in the car,” Mel told her. “I’ll be right out.”

Hayley nodded and slipped outside.

In the bedroom, Mel knelt on the floor and unrolled the sleeping bag a little so she could pull out one of the nicer thrift-store shirts and the favorite jeans she’d taken from her old room. The jeans were a little baggy, but she wasn’t as skinny as before. She hoped Tish wouldn’t notice they were different jeans.

She brushed her hair and put on the silver chain and earrings she’d rescued from her old bedroom. That would have to do. And if ol’ Robot Face was keeping an eye on her … well, that might help keep Hayley on the straight and narrow too.

She wondered if there were any cute guys around town anymore, or if they’d all gone off to college. Or turned into cops, like Darren.

He wouldn’t want her now. If he was out of her league anyway, it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. She’d have one last fling with Hayley, and then she’d hit the road for … somewhere.

She left the bedroll in the corner again, fatter than before. All packed and ready for her when she came home. Except this wasn’t home.

Mel tiptoed down the hall and peeked into the living room. No sign of Tish.

She tiptoed across the room to the front door. Still no sign of her.

“Bye, Tish!” Without waiting for an answer, Mel stepped onto the porch. Hayley’s beater of a car waited at the curb, and old Mrs. Nair’s curtains fluttered.

Mel ran to the street and climbed in. “We’re off!”

“We’re way, way off!” Hayley pulled away from the curb and cranked up the stereo. It was almost like high school except they didn’t have to use fake IDs anymore.

Mel started laughing when she remembered she didn’t have any ID, real or phony, so she couldn’t drink. At least she could use that as her excuse.