The next day at school, Tom jogged up behind me and Kaitlyn and draped an arm around each of us. He flashed a grin, said, “Morning ladies,” and then he was gone, motoring down the hall. Two girls brushed past us. One of them bumped into Kaitlyn, threw a nasty glance her way and said, “Excuuuse meee,” then giggled with her friend. They hurried ahead, catching up to Tom, and flanked him on either side.
“What was that all about?” I asked.
“Ann-Marie Fidesco. Wannabe cheerleader. Birdbrain, skank. That’s about all you need to know.”
“She has a problem with you?”
“She has a problem with everyone outside of her elite group of phonies. She went to my old middle school for a year before she moved to this school district. Swimming was part of our gym class, so we had to change and shower before we got into the pool. She went around and told all the guys that I was a true redhead. You know, meaning that I had red hair everywhere. She was responsible for my nickname that year. You don’t even want to know what it was.”
“What?”
“Not telling.”
“Come on.”
“Fire bush.”
My eyes popped wide, and my lips twitched into a grin.
“Yeah, funny now, not then.”
“It’s not funny, I’m sorry. Is that why you started dying your hair black?”
“God no. That was ages ago, in seventh grade. Ann-Marie moved the next year. Unfortunately, I had to follow her to this high school, but the nickname did not come with me. I don’t know if she even remembers me.”
We saw Nick at his locker and stopped to say hi. He was wearing a studded dog collar around his neck.
“What’s this?” Kaitlyn asked, reaching out to touch the black, studded band.
Nick stepped back out of her reach. “What’s it look like?” he snapped.
“Bite my head off already. What happened to your hemp rope? You never take it off.”
Nick glanced at me then back at Kaitlyn. “My brother came back.”
“When?”
“Last night. He just got out of jail.”
“Wow.”
“This morning he was gone. So was the cash from all of our wallets and my dad’s credit card.”
“Oh, Nick.” Kaitlyn stepped closer and touched his shoulder.
Nick slammed his locker shut, shook his head, and stalked off.
Kaitlyn looked like she was trying to decide if she should go after him. “Did you follow that?”
“Not really. He has another brother?”
“Yeah, Mike. He’s a few years older than Nate. Nick’s the baby. And he’s always worshiped Mike. But Mike started getting into drugs and trouble a few years ago. He wasn’t crazy bad or anything, he just had a hippie-Grateful-Dead-free-love kind of attitude. His dad bailed him out a couple of times, trying to keep everything quiet, then he turned into a total control freak. Mike had these amazing long dreads, and his dad made him cut them all off. After that, Mike took off with some girl and no one knew where they were for a while. Then they found out he was in jail down in Florida. And his dad wouldn’t even help him. He’s a lawyer! His dad said it wasn’t his job to be Mike’s lawyer, it was his job to practice ‘tough love.’ ”
“What about their mom?” I asked.
Kaitlyn shrugged. “She doesn’t like things to be messy.”
“That’s crazy. I don’t get it.”
“Me neither. That hemp rope that Nick always wears, it’s Mike’s. I’ve never seen him without it.”
Nick’s parents had abandoned his brother when he needed help. It shouldn’t have surprised me after these past few months without my parents. But still, it’s just not what parents are supposed to do. I was in the way, and they pushed me aside. Mom was devoted to Dad, Dad was devoted to Uncle Max, but where did that leave me? Dumped at my grandparents’, that’s where.
I went home for lunch that afternoon for the first time in a month. I thought I’d let Nick have a chance to talk to Kaitlyn in private. And I needed to think. My thoughts were clumped in my head like strings of cold spaghetti, and I needed to pull them apart. Where was Miss Marple when you needed her?
Kaitlyn used to have red hair, she wore bright-colored clothes. She said she went through a rough time last year and wrapped herself up in darkness. She covered herself in black, painted her room midnight. Agatha Christie would call it The Mysterious Case of the Transforming Girl.
And Nick. Always goofing around, hamming it up, dressed as darkly dramatic as Kaitlyn. Wearing a necklace to hold on to the memory of his brother.
And me. What about me? Hanging out with my new friends, going to school as if everything was normal. Dreaming about me and Tom and destiny. I’d stopped responding to texts from Coach Mel as if that part of my life had never existed. As if the questions about my parents and Uncle Max weren’t screaming inside my chest, trying to pound their way out past my rib cage. Nothing was as it seemed.