“Sara,” I explained lowly, “what do I really have? If it weren’t for you and Evan, I wouldn’t even exist, or I might as well not exist. I need more than school and sports to keep me wanting to move forward. I can’t be that person anymore, not now that I know the difference.”

Sara sat silently, breaking off pieces of her cookie without eating them.

“Are you sure there isn’t a way for you to move out of their house?” she finally questioned. “If you get caught…” She couldn’t look me in the eye.

“I won’t get caught,” I assured her. We sat in silence for a moment, picking at our food.

“Are you going to the award ceremony tomorrow night?” Sara asked, changing the subject.

“I put it on the calendar, and they didn’t say anything, so I think so.”

“Are you staying at school, or should my parents and I pick you up at your house?”

“I’ll probably stay here. I have to work on the newspaper and my History paper, so there’s no point in going home.” There was never a point in going home, but it was unavoidable, no matter how much I delayed the return. I didn’t have any other choice.

~~~~~

“Congratulations,” she offered as Sara and I walked into the cool spring evening.

I approached her but not with the shock of our first encounter. I wasn’t surprised to see her, but I was surprised by her sobriety. My mother appeared uncomfortably nervous standing on the sidewalk. She had her hands in her jacket pockets, glancing from the ground to my face, awaiting my reaction.

Sara didn’t continue to the parking lot but waited a short distance away to give us room to talk. I walked closer to the frail woman who I barely resembled except for her dark brown hair and the almond shape of her eyes.

“I am so proud of you,” she said gently, glancing up at me. “Captain next year, that’s great, Emily.”

“Co-captain,” I corrected. She smiled lightly as she held my gaze with her sparkling eyes.

“I saw you play.” She smiled bigger.

“I know,” I answered quietly. “I heard you yelling in the stands.” My mother’s bellows were unmistakable since she was the only one yelling “Emily” amongst the cheering crowd.

“I’ve decided to stop drinking,” she declared proudly. “I haven’t had anything to drink since December.” I could only nod, uncertain if I believed her words. I had no proof of the alleged truth other than her current condition.

“I got a new job too,” she continued. “I’m an executive assistant at an engineering firm a couple towns over.”

“You moved to Connecticut?” I questioned, shocked by this revelation.

“I wanted to be closer to you,” she told me with an eager expression. “I was hoping we could see each other… if you wanted to.”

My shoulders pulled back at this request. “We’ll see,” I replied, unable to commit. She nodded with her shoulder slumped in disappointment.

“I understand,” she whispered, looking at the ground. “Are you okay?” She looked up at me again, searching for more than the three words asked.

“I’m okay,” I assured her with a tight smile. Her concerned eyes didn’t release their scrutiny.

“Would you mind if I went to some of your track meets? I know they’re usually during the week, but if you have a weekend meet, would it be all right?”

I shrugged. “If you want.” I really wanted to tell her not to come - that I preferred not to see her again. But I couldn’t look into her desperate eyes and reject her so blatantly.

“I need to go,” I told her, nodding towards Sara.

“Hi.” My mother acknowledged Sara with her charming smile. “I’m Emily’s mother, Rachel.”

“Hi,” Sara responded with a kind smile of her own. “I’m Sara. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Well, you girls be careful driving home,” she told us. My eyebrows pulled together in reaction to her words. The concern sounded strange coming from her mouth.

“I’m so proud of you, baby,” my mother offered with welling eyes. I couldn’t stand to see the sentiment - it contradicted everything I knew of her. She was the one who didn’t want me. Why should she care now?

“Thanks,” I said and quickly turned away, striding toward Sara’s car. Sara was a few quick steps behind me, not expecting my sudden departure.

“Are you all right?” she asked when we neared her car. “Did she say something wrong that I missed?”

“Everything she said was wrong,” I declared, slipping into the passenger seat stiffly.

Sara studied me carefully before pulling out of the spot. I knew she wanted to understand, but she couldn’t find the words to ask me to explain. So I didn’t.

“Do you want to come over to my house for a little while, or do you think they’re expecting you home?” Sara asked. “My parents left from here to go to a dinner for my dad’s company, so they won’t be home.”

“I should go home,” I decided quietly, looking out the window. “She’s acting strange again, and I don’t need her saying anything to me tonight. I don’t think I could let her get away with it.”

I ignored Sara’s shocked expression and continued to stare out the window.

~~~~~

“So what’s the plan?” Evan asked during our walk to the Art room.

“There’s a park a few streets away from my house,” I explained, having dwelled on the details all week. “Meet me there at ten o’clock.”

“Will they be in bed by then?” I heard the unease in his voice.

“No, but if we wait that long it will be so late.” I exhaled slowly, recognizing the risk of trying to slip out with them in the next room watching television. But I also knew that they never came into my room at night, so I was fairly confident they wouldn’t check on me while I was gone. “It’ll be fine.”

“We don’t have to do this,” Evan offered.

“Are you backing out?”

“No,” he said quickly. “I just don’t want you to get in trouble.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I assured with forced confidence.

“Okay.” He released a heavy breath before kissing me on the top of my head.

With a promise of texting Sara on Sunday as proof that I still existed, I exited her car to begin my gut wrenching weekend with Carol. The only thing that kept me from festering in fury was the thought of sneaking out to see Evan the next night.

I spent Saturday in the yard raking while the kids jumped in the piles of leaves. Carol was nowhere to be seen, so being outside, surrounded by their laughter actually made the day enjoyable. George arrived home soon after I was done bagging the last pile. For such a small yard, it was astonishing how many leaves sat under the snow all winter. While I was out there, I moved the trash cans on the side of the house so I had a clear spot to drop from under my window. I figured I could use the metal trash can to climb back through the window when I returned, as long as I remembered to stand on the rims of the can. I was also concerned about moving the heavy can without it making noise. My stomach turned just thinking about it. Of course we were the only family in America who still owned metal trash cans – just my luck.

I had no appetite for dinner. I forced each bite of the lasagna into my mouth. It wasn’t horrible since it was one of the few dishes Carol could handle without disastrous results. Not wanting to draw any unnecessary attention, I finished the food on my plate. I gently pulled down my sleeve, reminded of what Carol’s attention felt like.

Was it possible that I’d forgotten what she was capable of? The enflamed skin along my forearm was a brand, a reminder of her seething affection. Carol played off my contact with the searing lasagna pan as an accident, but I saw her eyes dance when I jumped back with a quick, pained inhale. Did I really dare to test the limits of her loathing by sneaking out my window?

My stomach turned anxiously as I stared at the painted sky while washing dishes. I only had a few more hours to decide if I was capable of doing this. I thought of Evan and whether I could disappoint him. I knew he’d understand if I backed out. Then I thought of how disappointed I would be, and whether I could live with that. I absently rinsed the dishes and placed them in the dishwasher, the movement of my shirt irritating the raw bubbling skin.

I slipped into my room after taking out the trash, checking the can placement once again. I considered burying myself in homework to persuade time to pass quickly. But I knew I wouldn’t be able to concentrate.

I opted to lie on my bed and drown my nausea with music – it didn’t help. A thousand incoherent thoughts raced through my head as I stared at the ceiling. I’d start to visualize my escape route and then get worked up about the potential disasters. Could I drop the distance from the window to the ground without making a sound? Would one of the neighbors see me and say something? What would I say if they discovered I was missing or caught me outside? My stomach turned and my palms dampened.

I picked up my phone to text Evan that I wasn’t going to meet him. I had the words displayed on the screen and started pulling at my lower lip. Could I do this? I wanted to see him so much. I couldn’t force myself to hit Send. I dug my teeth into my lip and hit Cancel. I still had an hour and a half to decide.

The seconds ticked away like minutes – I couldn’t keep still. I tapped my foot rapidly in the air, contemplating my choices. Should I give in to what I wanted to do or to what I should do? But why shouldn’t I get to see Evan? Why was I letting them decide what was right for me? It’s not like I was sneaking off to get drunk or get into any real trouble. They never had to know. I swallowed hard and bit my lip again.

The last forty-five minutes were the worst. I thought the heat in my stomach was going to burn through my skin. I shut off the music and listened to the low talking coming from the TV through the wall. Eventually, I slid off my bed and walked breathlessly to my closet with deliberate steps. I removed the stuffed duffle bag from the closet, placed it on my bed, and folded my comforter over it. I knew it didn’t look much like a body, but I couldn’t bear the thought of having my bed completely flat in my absence.

I examined the façade for a minute, almost panting with anxiety. I ran through the plan in my head one more time and inhaled quickly, biting my lip. Should I leave the window open or will the cool air be noticed if they walked by my door to go to the bathroom? How would I close it? I’d have to stand on a trash can. I clenched my teeth and held my breath in agony just thinking about moving it while they were a window away. I removed the phone from my pocket and lingered over the buttons ready to cancel once again.

Didn’t George just throw away an empty milk crate that used to have paint cans in it? That would be high enough for me to reach the window to close it. I put the phone back in my pocket. I shut off my light with twenty minutes left to wait. I sat on the floor with my knees drawn into me, staring up at the window. I watched the stars blink through our neighbor’s swaying trees, allowing the last few minutes to tick away. I could do this - I had to believe that. I took a breath to calm the pounding in my chest.