ALL THROUGH DINNER I waited for Spewart to rat me out about locking him out of the house. But he didn’t. Instead, he asked my mom and Lenny a whole pile of questions about stories he’d seen on the news. It was all “Conservatives this,” “Russia that.” After a while I just tuned out.
Then he said, “The outfit you wore on air was very nice, Caroline.”
“Why, thank you,” my mom replied. “I have to give all the credit to Ashley.” She turned to me. “I wore the jacket you picked out for me. The mocha one.”
I couldn’t stop my lips from curling upward into a smile. “I know. I saw.”
“You watched the news together?” Mom said. She sounded so hopeful. I even saw her share a look with Lenny. Like they seriously thought the midget and I might be bonding!
“No,” I said. “I just wandered through to see what you were wearing. Making sure you weren’t committing any fashion crimes.”
“Ashley has a great eye,” Mom continued. “She helps me pick out almost everything I wear on air. I’d be lost without her.”
“It’s true,” I agreed, warming to the subject. “She has zero fashion sense.”
“I don’t think that’s true,” Lenny said.
But Mom just laughed. “Oh, it’s true. Her dad, on the other hand, has impeccable taste in clothes.”
“Do you think that’s because he’s gay?” Stewart asked. “Or am I just perpetuating a stereotype?”
Suddenly I felt like I was underwater. They kept talking, but they sounded like the adults on Charlie Brown. Wah-wah-wah-wah-wah-waah.
Finally I found my voice. “Who told you my dad’s gay?”
They all turned to look at me. Stewart looked puzzled. “What do you mean? He is gay.”
“Who. Told you.”
“I probably did,” Leonard said with a shrug.
“And who told you?”
“I did, Ashley. Obviously,” Mom said.
“Why?”
“Because we’re living together. Because when all of this happened, Leonard was the one person I felt I could turn to. Because I love him, and I’m never going to keep secrets from him.”
I couldn’t think of a way to argue with that, so I turned to Leonard instead. “And then you told him?” I said, pointing a finger at Stewart. “Why did you think it was any of your business?”
Leonard put down his knife and fork. “We were about to move in with you. Phil lives within spitting distance. Stewart had a lot of questions. I answered his questions as honestly as I could.” He looked toward my mom, confused. “I don’t understand what the problem is.”
“Ashley, it’s not like it’s a secret—”
“It is too!” I wailed. “None of my friends know. None of them!”
Mom looked surprised. “Really? Not even your closest friends? Not even Lauren?”
“Especially not Lauren!” God! How could I explain to someone who hasn’t been a teenager for centuries that best friends are the ones who are most likely to use your darkest secrets against you one day, and stab you right in the back?
“Gee,” Stewart said. “I would tell my best friend, Alistair, anything.”
“That’s ’cause you’re a freak and everything you do is freaky!” I saw Leonard’s jaw tighten; it was the first time I’d seen him look mad.
“Ashley, that was completely uncalled for,” Mom started.
“So? This entire situation is completely uncalled for! I didn’t ask for these two strangers to move into our house. I didn’t ask for you and Dad to divorce. And I didn’t ask for Dad to be gay!” I stood up, pushing my chair back so hard it clattered to the floor. Then I put my face inches from Stewart’s. “If you so much as breathe a word to anyone at school about my dad, I will have you killed!”
“Okay, that is totally inappropriate,” Leonard began.
“Shut up, Leonard.”
“Ashley Eleanor Anderson,” said Mom. “I have never been so ashamed—”
“Welcome to the club!! I’ve never been so ashamed, either! I am counting the days till I can become unconstipated!!”
Mom looked puzzled. “What does that have to do with this? Do you need to eat more fiber?”
“No, the other meaning!” I shouted. “The one that means I can divorce my family!”
There was silence for a moment—then the little freakazoid started to laugh. He tried to stop. He put a hand over his mouth. But it was too late. I’d seen him do it.
“I think,” he said, “the word you’re looking for is emancipated.”
I looked at each of them. They were all trying not to laugh. And I felt so angry and so humiliated because words, like a lot of other things, are not my strong point, and I needed all of them, especially Mom, to understand how upset I was. I needed them to see things from my point of view for a change, and instead it was all turning into a big joke.
“I hate you all,” I said. Then I walked out.
Mom followed me upstairs. She tried to talk to me using her calm voice. She said she was disappointed in my behavior. She said she was concerned that I hadn’t told any of my friends the truth about Dad. She asked if I wanted to go “talk to a professional,” like I’m a crazy person. But I was still angry, so I kept shouting, and eventually her calm voice was replaced by her exasperated voice. Just before she left my room, she announced that I wouldn’t be getting my allowance this weekend.
There goes the H&M skirt.