Chapter 12

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Jade's POV

Friday, September 27


This time it's Karl's phone that buzzes with the UK number.

He holds it up to me. "Norma?" he asks. 

"Probably," I say, glancing instinctively at the doorway. We're in the living room killing time watching Netflix after dinner, and Nana's in the basement doing laundry. She irons everything, including our underwear, so she's got at least another half an hour down there. Still, Karl gets to his feet and I follow him to the staircase. 

"Hello?" he answers halfway up. "Yeah, hey. We thought it was you. Hang on, we're in transit." We get ourselves settled in his room with the door closed, Karl at his desk and me in the window seat beside it, before he props up his phone and switches to FaceTime. 

"There you are!" Norma exclaims. Her hair's pulled back into a low, loose ponytail with tendrils escaping everywhere. It makes her look younger. I search her face for clues for how she's doing, because our "official" calls over Skype don't tell me anything. And neither does Nana. But Norma is wearing the same cheerful, determined expression she's had every time I've glimpsed her over the past few weeks. The one that says, Everything is fine and I have nothing to explain or apologise for. "What are you two doing at home on a Friday night?"

"Waiting for our ride," Karl says. "We're going to a pep rally. At Fright Farm."

Norma scratches her cheek. "A pep rally where?"

"Fright Farm," I say. "Apparently they do school stuff there sometimes. We get a bunch of free passes so people can hang out after."

"Oh, fun! Who are you going with?"

We both pause. "Friends," Karl says. 

It's mostly true. We're meeting Kamille and Perrie there. But our actual ride is Officer Elliot, because Nana wasn't going to let us leave the house until she ran into him downtown and he offered to take us. We can't tell Norma that though, without falling down a rabbit hole of everything we're not telling her.

Before we started our weekly Skype calls with Norma, Hamilton House Rehabilitation Facility sent a three page Resident Interactions Guide that opened with "Positive, uplifting communication between residents and their loved ones is a cornerstone of the recovery process." In other words: skim the surface. Even now, when we're having a decidedly unofficial call, we play by the rules. Needing a police escort after getting targeted by an anonymous stalker isn't on the list of rehab-approved topics. 

"Anyone special?" Norma asks, batting her eyelashes.

My temper flares, because Karl had someone special back home. She knows perfectly well he's not the type to move on a month later. "Just people from school," I say. "It's getting busy around here. We have the pep rally tonight, and homecoming next Saturday."

If Norma notices the coolness in my voice, she doesn't react. "Oh my God, is it homecoming already? Are you two going to the dance?"

"I am," Karl says. "With Kamille." His glance shifts towards me, and I read in his eyes what he doesn't say: Unless it gets cancelled.

"So fun! She sounds great. What about you, Jade?" Norma asks. 

I pick at a frayed seam on my jeans. When Karl told me last night that Kamille asked him to homecoming, it hit me that I'm a "princess" without a date. Even though I'm positive the votes were a setup, something about that still rankles. Maybe because, until last night, I assumed our new friends weren't the school dance types. Now, I guess it's just Perrie who isn't. With me, anyway.

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