The Quiet Ones

Doyle Marchand, May 19, 2008

Femininity is an art. Lucky for me, I’ve had tremendous examples in my life. Believe me, reaching deep inside and finding that minuscule speck of estrogen is tough. It’s there, in all men, whether we want to admit it or not.

And what better reason to find it than getting the girl?

I couldn’t think of one, that’s for sure. I’ve tried everything else, and it’s blown up in my face. Not only is the girl pissed at me, not speaking to me and avoiding me like a demon’s head has grown from one of my shoulders, she’s taking lessons from the master – er – mistress. How To Be Cruel 101.

No, that’s not right. Ellie Cahill’s course qualifies for advance placement, not intro to. She’s the most beautiful girl in school – in the eyes of everyone but me, I think – but she’s also got this Grinchy little heart. Cut in half. In Ellie’s book, I’m public enemy number one. She’d rather see her sister Emma die alone than be with me.

Dude, this is desperation. Ellie has screwed with my future in a major way. Well, she has and she hasn’t. It’s complicated, but it all fits together, and should have meshed into a very devious plan with only one brilliant outcome.

In the process, I learned a little secret. There’s this girl here at Meadowlark Glen High who loves to torment people without anyone ever figuring out that she’s behind all the mayhem. She’s a gossip. She’s a liar. She’s a vicious bitch.

That was my first snag. Not knowing who all the players were before I jumped into the middle of the game. I’m still not sure who’s pulling all the strings and setting the rumor mill into motion, but the way I see it, I’ve got basically one shot at salvaging my sanity, preserving a friendship, and well, yeah, winning the girl.

It’s a wild plan.

Size nine, skinny jeans. Girl variety.

A skimpy little top, bright fuchsia, that bares the belly if I don’t keep my elbows locked tightly to my sides.

Eyeliner that would do an old 80’s hair band proud.

My mom would so freak if she could see me right now. But she can’t, and Ellie can. Emma can. Worse, their brother Josh saw it too, today, in home room. If a look could beat the crap outta someone, I’d be bloody pulp on the floor.

Still, it’s better than the alternative.

See, I had this crazy idea that if I asked Ellie to prom last month, then maybe Emma might notice that I’m actually a guy and not the squirt she’s been pals with for the past oh, forever years. We’ve been best friends since preschool when the Cahills moved to Meadowlark Glen. For the first year or so, Mrs. Cahill wasn’t too stuck up to be friendly to my mom. But when the new house was done in the right neighborhood, all that niceness ended.

But not for Emma. She’s different. Always has been. She’s not like the rest of the family.

Well, I don’t have anything against her brother Josh, really. Except for the beating I’m due in oh, about ten minutes when I leave school. Mr. Cahill – I don’t know him at all. The guy’s never around. He’s some kind of banker whiz. Investments. Whatever. Absentee dad. Emma worships him, but things have changed lately. I know why, but I’m still worried about it.

See, Josh is the wannabe jock in the family. Everybody loves him, including Ellie’s boyfriend, that rat bastard captain and quarterback of Meadowlark Glen High’s football team. Yeah, championship wrestler. Point guard of the basketball team. If there’s a sport, Ellie’s guy is the champion of it, the key player in all of them, the master of his little testosterone-filled universe.

Josh loves him. He includes Josh.

Josh isn’t the brightest bulb in the socket. Nor is he a particularly gifted athlete. What he is, is the eyes and ears of Luke Cahill. You wanna get to the Cahill sisters? Well, you gotta go through Josh.

Which brings me to Ellie.

I can’t help but sigh every time I see her. Yeah, she’s really that beautiful – at least on the outside. I swear 30 percent of her body weight is in her chest, another ten is blonde hair. Biggest, bluest eyes you’ve ever seen in your life, and her smile – lord save me. It lights up the room. Her lips are like plump fleshy pillows. She is beautiful.

Then she opens her mouth and like, says like, like a million times, and it’s pretty clear that the girl gets her C-minus average because she uses assets that fall well outside her brain cells. I used to think she was just stupid, but I’ve come to understand that it doesn’t take much intelligence to be as vicious as humanly possible, and that pretty much sums up Ellie Cahill.

I could beat my head against locker 42 every minute of every day for the rest of my life and never understand the random nature of the gene pool. Nobody thinks Emma’s as pretty as her sister. She’s not as tall, not as thin, her smile rarely makes an appearance, nor is she in the habit of making eye contact with anybody.

Or maybe it’s because Ellie shines so brightly, it casts a pretty big shadow over Emma.

She’s blonde too, and when Ellie’s not around, she’s every bit as beautiful. At least, I think so. I grew up with her though. I remember when we mucked around in their front yard and made mud pies before the landscaper finished laying sod – most of which, Emma wore on her head. We climbed trees together. Scraped knees together. Mocked the one who cried hardest, learned to ride bikes together, traded them with each other countless times, even though Emma’s dad yelled at her for riding a boy’s bike.

What makes Emma so special is how smart she is. Scary smart. She’s in advanced placement everything, and this is only the end of our sophomore year. She’s the youngest in our class, and nobody doubts who our valedictorian will be. Move over Einstein. Make way for Emma Cahill.

And it’s not like she’s only good at one subject. She’s good at everything. But if anybody ever has the pleasure of reading something written by Emma Cahill, there’s no question about her destiny. She was born to write books. She loves reading everything. She loves writing.

I didn’t go back to study hall when I got a bathroom pass five minutes before the bell. I’m pretty sure that with this outlandish appearance, Mr. Gibbons was delighted to see me leave. I’ve never received so many frowns in my life as I have today, not since that fateful day last month when I asked Ellie to prom with me.

She wasn’t even supposed to say yes. Nor was she supposed to take me seriously. What I expected was a sweet smile, those gentle eyes blinking at me, and a soft suggestion to Emma that she should go to prom with me. Then again, that was before I learned the truth.

It was the black eye Ellie’s man promised that inspired this wild idea of mine. I don’t look so bad with lots of eye makeup. And maybe the whole thing will just blow over if everybody thinks I’m some kind of Goth freak who snapped for a moment when he asked the head cheerleader of everything out on a date.

As it stands, Emma isn’t speaking to me. I’m not sure why. But I’m not leaving locker 42 until she agrees to talk to –

"Oh my God. What are you doing here?" Not a growl, more than a groan.

I grinned, didn’t move, kept my forehead pressed to her locker.

Are you out of your mind? And what are you wearing? Emma has never raised her voice to me. Today, she’s come close, but it’s still the sweetest sound I think I’ve ever heard. Is it possible to fall madly in love at sixteen? I think I have. In fact, I’m sure that it’s been true love since the first mud pie flew.

I kept my chin tucked and struggled to keep the joy from bubbling from my throat. All those dirty looks, the silent censure, it’s all worth it because of this moment. Emma is speaking to me again. I cleared my throat as quietly as possible. Hey. That’s right. Cool. Casual. We always meet at her locker when I’m dressed like 90’s J-Lo.

Don’t give me crap, Doyle. What do you want?

Well, I’m already in too deep to try to minimize this. All I can do is play it out, hope for more than a moment of privacy and an attentive ear. I turned, extended one arm, perched the other on a provocatively thrust hip and twirled around for her inspection. She avoids me so much these days, I know she hasn’t gotten more than a verbal account of this, let alone anything close to the full effect.

Are you trying to incite a mob? Emma hissed. I swear to God, Doyle, if that’s what you’re looking for, my opinion on shock value –

My eyes narrowed. You don’t approve. I get it, Em. Let’s pretend for a minute that you don’t hate me because I’m different. I know better. Emma doesn’t hate anybody, not really. Even when she calls her baby sister Madison the little virus, it’s not about hate. Maddy is just another person that makes Emma feel a little bit more invisible. See, I know these things about her. She doesn’t have to tell me. I just get it. Get her.

Oh God. I want her. Was I just thinking that Ellie is the beautiful one? Mom always says that beauty is only skin deep. It’s the inside that counts.

I don’t hate you! Emma stepped close and grabbed my arm. She twisted a maneuver that took me out of the line of sight of hallway mob. I do refuse to get drawn into this… this …whatever. One hand waved in an abrupt head-to-toe gesture that remained so muted, I don’t think anybody but me noticed it. I wish I could say this is some kind of weird project you’re doing for sociology, but I know better.

I sidled up, rested my chin onto her shoulder and sighed. So this is what, Em, tolerance? You don’t hate me, but you’re so damned worried about conforming to Ellie’s psycho bitch mob –

Don’t go there, Doyle. Not about Ellie.

You forget. I know you. I’ve known you your whole life. How can you love one sister and hate the other?

She stiffened. I felt it – that stubborn, 100 percent steel Cahill rigidity pumping through her veins. Somehow, she managed to take two swift steps away from me without shattering.

"As far as I’m concerned, I only have one sister."

Madison is still –

An embarrassment. Proof that my sleazy father can’t keep it in his pants.

Do I know this girl or what?

Takes two to tango, love.

She swatted me. Oh bliss! Two touches in two minutes. I’m not your love. What, other than approval of this bizarre form of self expression, were you looking for? You’re gonna make me miss the bus.

I shrugged indifference, though it was the last thing I felt at the moment. Ride home with Josh and Ellie.

They’ve got stuff to do, and I have finals this week.

Ellie’s got finals too. Ellie never cracked a book in her life, that I ever saw, and Josh was graduating in less than a week.

I can’t miss the bus, she said.

Don’t want to make kissy faces with the cheerleaders?

Tryouts aren’t until tomorrow.

My eyes widened. Tryouts for what?

Emma blushed, such a faint pink stain on her cheeks, I’m pretty sure nobody but me ever witnessed the phenomenon. It was so gorgeous. So Emma. Innocent. I bet she’d look that way all day if I kissed her.

Cheerleading, she hissed. And it’s none of your –

"Whoa. Cheerleading? You?"

I took gymnastics, same as Ellie.

Now hold on. My brilliant plan started smoldering in a pre-up-in-flames way. This was definitely not the way I saw this conversation going. Time for a change of plans.

You’d put them all to shame, Em, and you know I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t believe it.

She peeked up at me, all doubt and chagrin, but it was a spark of hope. She hadn’t bashed me with her trig book yet, nor was she screaming for Josh to make the weird looking girl leave her alone.

I pushed my luck. As far as finals, I’ve got them too, and I’m not the one with the photographic memory who only pretends to cram for finals so she won’t stick out like a sore thumb. I leaned close and murmured in her ear before she did decide to whop me with a hardcover. I promise not to kill the illusion you’ve so carefully created if you blow off the books for one afternoon and come with me. I need your advice, Em.

Didn’t look like the gamble paid off. Her glare went straight through my gut, detoured south and snipped off my balls. Please don’t walk away, Emma.

So we’re resorting to blackmail now, are we? Don’t push me, Doyle. And don’t think I won’t intentionally fail every single test just to prove you wrong.

You wouldn’t. One, your dad would kill you. Two, you’re already obsessed with early admission to the Ivy League flavor of the month. Which one is it now? Wellesley? Vassar?

Belleview Tech, she said sourly.

I burst out laughing and drew a little more unwanted attention in our direction. Time to quickly move this away from the public. Liar. Come with me. I flipped my very short shirt up to reveal an enviable innie – or at least Mom says so. I’m getting it pierced. Who else would I trust to help me pick out the ring?

Emma stifled a grin. Hallelujah! Progress! It was quickly masked when she tucked her chin to her chest. Are you really serious about this stuff, Doyle? Maybe you’re taking the rejection a little too hard. She is older, you know. Maybe she’s not into younger guys.

I snorted. As if that had anything to do with anything. She’s not that much older than me, Em, but no, your darling and forever sainted sister didn’t make me change teams.

Then what are you doing?

Uh-oh. She who breathes fire has you in her sights, I whispered. Think drama. Loud. Broadway-worthy gesticulation for the very back rows. Run for your life, Emma!

Stop. She finally laughed and didn’t try to hide it.

It was a nanosecond of bliss in an otherwise cruel universe. And then Ellie Cahill approached, and wisely, I evaporated into the mists of all the other invisible people who never rated notice of the crew of seven – Ellie’s squad.

I asked you to stay away from him, Emma. Remember our bargain?

Now this was news. Bargain? And what would Emma –?

She nodded. I shun the gay boy and you make sure I get enough votes to be on the varsity squad.

What a truly vile notion. Why would Emma really want to join the ranks of the bobble-heads? Those Barbie-wannabes were so far beneath her. I cringed and hoped the invisibility cloak didn’t vanish when I needed it most.

You’ll be at my side in cheerleading camp in August, Emma. Just think of it. One bony arm wrapped around Emma’s shoulder. It’ll be like a Cahill dynasty. When I move on from high school, I’ll know that my tradition and excellence are preserved by my own sister.

Talk about narcissism. A cheerleading legacy? Get real.

You, on the other hand, benefit immediately, without like – one extra grammatical, all the dweebs and losers. It’s like, not rocket science, Em. I swear, sometimes I wonder if you prefer those misfits to like, the popular people here.

Doubt flitted through Emma’s eyes. They were shuttered to most people, but not to me. Em realized that Ellie had a very different definition of misfit and loser. Emma’s will was all that kept her lips sealed on the subject. Two seconds after Ellie left, Emma would question everything again. She’d realize that popular didn’t mean better by any means. In fact, in Meadowlark Glen, it always meant worse. Bullying, taunting, downright emotional torture – those qualities were in abundance with Ellie’s friends. But when Emma was alone, she wanted what Ellie had. The confidence, the shield provided by a posse of pals, maybe even the envy of all those on the outside.

I watched her conscience shut down the questions. What about college? and isn’t there more to life than beauty? and what about actually being good? Those were the questions I answered for her so many times.

Put college first. Beauty is only skin deep. You are actually good. Better than anybody else at Meadowlark Glen High.

Emma let Ellie’s will override hers again. My heart ground like crushed sun-dried pepper. That’s it. I’ve lost. She won’t –

I turned to slip away for real this time, rather than remain in the zone where cheerleaders didn’t deign notice. Fingers gripped my arm. I glanced over my shoulder and expected to find Barbie waiting with a sneer, drive a nail deeper in my chest with a gloat over her victory.

We need to talk, Emma said. Seriously, Doyle. I want the truth for once.

It took only a few minutes to duck out of the school and make our way to my car in the lot. Em wasn’t wasting time.

What’s really going on, Doyle?

I swallowed the lump in my throat. What do you think?

She slammed the door and waited for me to buckle up. Why did you ask Ellie to prom?

If I could’ve slapped myself, I would’ve. Why do you think I asked her?

You can’t keep answering questions with questions. Either we deal, or we’re done. Do you get it?

I nodded. Well, it’s kinda complicated, the reason.

She crossed her arms over her chest and stared straight ahead through the windshield. I have a feeling it’ll be a long time before you actually get your navel pierced, so apparently we’ve got time. I’m warning you now. If I’m not home before bedtime, I won’t be missed.

Laughter bubbled between us again. Leave it to Em. She’s always had a way of bringing out the truth with a little bit of humor. What I knew and what I suspected… well, there was nothing funny about any of it.

Chapter 2

Emma Cahill

The last thing I remembered was sunshine so bright it matched the fire in my heart. Wisps of anger still clung to me, even though the source was out of reach of my awareness. My world turned black and thick and suffocating. What happened? Where was I? The air blistered my flesh. Oxygen scorched my lungs. This was more than one of my infamous fits of temper. Yes, I have them.

And what was that noise? The world roared around me. I could almost see shrieks, bouncing sound waves through the gray-black world.

Another sound joined the cacophony. Sirens. What on earth was happening?

The odor was killing me. It reeked of roasted fur and some kind of sweet smelling meat. The stench made my nostrils contract in revolt.

I couldn’t speak, could barely breathe. I felt nothing but heat for an eternity. Then it was gone. Sounds shifted around me. Cold droplets battered the right side of my face. There would be hell to pay for it. It took Ellie an hour to get my hair to look like it did this morning. Cheerleader tryouts after school. God, don’t let this happen.

What was this exactly, and why can’t I remember anything? Little details of the day have escaped me.

She’s alive.

Who? I knew the voice was mine, but it was low, gravelly and foreign. Me, but not me. It was the oddest sensation. My body shifted and I groaned. Every cell in my body screamed its agony. Scratch that. It was my right side that hurt. I felt nothing on the left. How did I get here? Where is here?

Daddy?

Ah, Daddy. That’s right. A little bit of reality drifted back to me with the jarring motion. Oddly, the violent movement was accompanied by a very gentle voice. Easy. Support her neck.

A fragment of familiarity flowed within reach. I grasped it. We were getting ready for school. Ellie and I were in our bathroom. We were laughing, anticipating this day of school, well, specifically of my debut trying out for the cheerleading squad for fall after finals. I was excited. This was going to be the best summer vacation ever. Ellie and I were close for the first time in my life. Well, at least we would be. Doyle’s whispers evaporated in Ellie’s presence. He wasn’t right about my sister. He couldn’t be right about her.

Ellie is my blood. She’s more like me than different. It has to be that way, doesn’t it? She’ll be the one that protects me from jealous girls who’ll think I made the squad because she’s my sister. This won’t be different from anything else. I worked hard. I earned it on my own. Or at least, I hope I’ll earn it. Just a few more hours, and I’ll get my shot. Hard work. That’s what works.

Is that right? Daddy’s words echoed through my brain.

The issue is resolved to my satisfaction, Jane. We can’t afford –

Don’t tell me that, Mom said. Her soft voice was my first clue that I shouldn’t be eavesdropping. I couldn’t wait another minute for Daddy’s decision about cheerleading camp. My fingers have been crossed for a week in anticipation.

Don’t tell you the truth for a change?

Luke, I know money has been tight since Maddy was born –

Don’t call her that! His voice rumbled with a low tone I had never heard. It made the hairs on the back of my neck prickle. "Her name is Madison, Jane, not Maddy."

It’s just a nickname. I think it’s sweet that Emma has finally warmed up to her enough to give her a term of endearment, Luke.

Right, Daddy muttered. You wear blinders where Emma is concerned. I don’t know if I agree with the psychologist completely, but something has changed since Madison was born, and if he thinks it’s –

Don’t say it. I will not listen to you disparage your own daughter. Emma is every bit as wonderful as your other children, Luke, even if you’re disappointed in her right now.

She isn’t.

Reality yanked me back into confusion. Someone laid me on jagged rock, while something else pushed against the side of my face. I could feel it in a sense of pressure but nothing more. It wasn’t hot or cold, wet or dry.

The gentle voice returned. It irritated me that he was perfectly calm, and I had no idea what was happening.

Do you know your name?

My throat hurt, but I pushed the words out anyway. Yeah, Einstein – do you know yours?

Maybe that’s why Daddy gets so irritated with me. Most of the time, if a thought is in my brain, it’s flying out of my mouth without the benefit of a filter.

The face moved close now – dark with filth. He squinted at me, head cocked to one side. There were bits of tan showing through the creases around his eyes and downturned mouth. I’ve seen that look before. Yeah, Mr. Dirty Face. You heard me right.

You need to tell me your name.

Emma Cahill.

Do you know what happened?

I didn’t. My silent introspection had little to do with anything but trying to remember what happened, where I am and why I feel like I’ve been used for scrimmage by the football team.

Emma, do you know what happened?

I heard you the first time. No. I…

Daddy’s voice resumed its haunting, muted the din around me.

Emma could be anything – everything, Jane. She’s smart and beautiful and talented. But she’s angry and spoiled. She doesn’t work for anything. Are we responsible for that? I suppose we are. We’ve always given in to her.

The vague sense of anger made my field of vision quake. No longer intangible. I heard my voice. I hate you!

Who did I say it to? Not Daddy. No. I don’t hate my father. He’s… he’s wrong about me. At least this time he’s wrong. I’m the first to admit that the last year and several months have been miserable for me, and so pretty much everybody around me by proxy. Is it so unusual for the nearly adult children to resent their parents starting a new family again? And at their ages? C’mon. I’m not the one worried about appearances for God’s sake. Nor am I the one who popped out a kid late in life.

Is this why Daddy is so angry with me?

Usually we get along fine. Well, at least until Maddy came along. Then something changed. Was it me? Apparently the school psychologist thought so. So much for doctor patient confidentiality.

No, it wasn’t just me. Daddy changed too. He wasn’t fun anymore. He was as sober as the sapphire blue eyes staring down at me.

Expecting something – yes, that’s exactly what it was. This man with the dirty face stared at me waiting for an answer to whatever inane question he uttered, and Daddy expected something from me too.

Emma, the deep voice dripped concern from two syllables. Emma, look at me. Stay with me –

I’m here. Sort of. Why should I tell a complete stranger that in order to answer his question about what happened to me, I had to actually think about the events this morning? Sheesh – he’s obviously some sort of professional… something. Shouldn’t he know this stuff without me spelling it out?

Do you remember –

I’m trying. People always accuse me of being short tempered, having a little edge to my personality. I never understood why until that moment. Unfortunately, it wasn’t in the cards for me to care. At least not today. "Will you please let me think? For God’s sake!"

The lines around the stranger’s mouth etched deeper. Dear Lord, was he grinning at me? Why don’t you tell me what happened?

What’ve you got, Kenny?

A bulky man appeared out of nowhere. Maybe he was fat – maybe it was the size of the coat he wore. He had a tank strapped to his back in the vein of a man about to go scuba diving. The hat he wore looked familiar. Fire department?

Kenny didn’t look that way.

I’m still working on it, Kenny said.

Fantastic. Now I’m an it.

Bulky dude shoved Kenny out of the way and gripped my wrist. She tell you what she knows?

We uh… didn’t get too far past her name.

Well, we ain’t got all day, son. Spit out what you know ‘fore the big guns get here.

My eyes drifted to Kenny’s hip. Yep. There was a gun. A cop and a fireman. Now all we needed was a giraffe and the bar for the rest of what was likely a very bad joke.

Another body approached. Vitals?

Stable, but with a heart rate of 127, grouchy grumbled. "We got a dressing on the left cheek, arm, already oozing some fluids. Need to get her transported ASAP. That is if Officer Friendly here is through with his interrogation."

Lay off, Matthews. New guy squatted down to eye level. Miss, I need you to tell me what happened here.

Emma, I said. "My name is Emma Cahill, and if you don’t mind, I’d like to talk to the other one, the nice one." No, it wasn’t fair. This guy shielded me from grumpy pants too.

Matthews grunted and turned away. Welcome to Meadowlark Glen – the only place in the world where you can get your face half blown off and still cop an attitude.

Gunman scolded, Matthews, don’t say things like that.

Words registered in my head without real meaning. Something kept tugging me backward. The nice man – Kenny – maybe his questions sparked some need in me to know what really led to this mayhem and confusion. Did the world come to an end and nobody told me?

World… coming to an end… there was something about that thought, something familiar.

We haven’t asked Ellie to work for what she has. You’re being unfair, Luke.

Josh accepted that he had to help pay for his extracurricular activities, Jane. Ellie would sacrifice her dreams for Emma in a second. She’s said as much. Talk about unfair – you’d let her give everything for Emma’s desire to have what her sister does. I’m not paying for this. If either one of them plans to attend cheerleading camp this summer, they’re going to have to work for the money. I’ve made my decision, and it’s final.

Then I’ll pay for it.

Daddy laughed at Mom. You barely make twelve dollars an hour, Jane. Do you really think you can afford it?

Don’t condescend to me! I have a degree in –

Art history, Daddy interrupted. That would be great if we lived in an urban area with an impressive art museum or two, but we don’t. We decided we’d live in Meadowlark Glen because it’s a good place to raise children. The school is small with a good academic record.

It’s a snobby, elite suburb, Mom scoffed. You’re more concerned with keeping up an image for the partners, Luke. If you really cared about setting a good example for our children, we’d be in a neighborhood we can afford.

We could afford it well enough when we moved here fifteen years ago.

And now our girls have to suffer because of pride?

This is not my pride, Jane. We have a financial obligation. Or do you propose that we walk away from our debt and throw up our hands like everyone else feeling the pinch? I won’t do it. I’ve worked too hard. I’m not shirking my responsibilities so our spoiled daughter can go to cheerleading camp with her sister. And let me be perfectly clear on this, Jane. I have no doubt that Ellie will come up with the money for camp again this summer. She’ll find another job –

Protest screeched in my brain. Ellie? A job, let alone another job? Since when? I snorted softly. Maybe Doyle was right. There was more to Ellie than I realized.

She’ll save her money and behave responsibly. She’s not half as smart as Emma, and neither is Josh for that matter, but she’s got common sense and a kind heart.

That frown, the feeling of utter disbelief transformed into something dark, hot, angry. It roiled in my belly and licked along nerve endings in a rage I’d never felt before.

That’s what’s really eating you, isn’t it? Emma is smarter than your favorite child.

"I don’t have a favorite child. That doesn’t mean I don’t see all their potential or feel disappointment at Emma’s lack of ambition achieving hers. I’m tired of discussing it, Jane. I’m not paying thousands of dollars to send them to cheerleading camp. Cheerleading camp, for God’s sake! You act like I’m preventing them from some great humanitarian mission to a third world country or denying them the opportunity to go to school at all."

Aren’t you? I had to strain to hear Mom speak, whether it was from a softer tone or the blood rushing to my head, I’m not sure. I know you’ve had to rely on the college fund this year, Luke. I’m not stupid either.

Daddy laughed bitterly. "The irony is that in maintaining the lifestyle they’re all accustomed to living, I’ve robbed Josh and Ellie of the chance to go to a good college and focus on education without the need to work at the same time. Emma on the other hand will probably have every scholarship under the sun available to her. Does she care about that? Not in the least – she wants to be a cheerleader."

She’s only fifteen, Luke. You really can’t expect her to look at the big picture right now.

She’s got no choice in the matter. Cheerleading camp is off the table – unless she comes up with the money on her own, like Ellie has.

The memories seeped in from the periphery of whatever trauma distracted me, along with the flood of emotions I felt when I heard them the first time. I was angry, livid really, and stunned. Why did Daddy think this whole cheerleading thing was my idea in the first place? This wasn’t what I wanted. Was it? I gasped and lurched upright. Daddy!

Kenny’s hand pressed my right shoulder back down. Whoa – where do you think you’re going? I’ve gotta keep you right here, sweetheart.

I’ve got to find Daddy. He – he thinks…

We’ll take care of him. I promise. Right now, I’m more worried about you.

You don’t understand. I said I hate him, and I’ve got to tell him. Oh God.

We fought all the way to school this morning over cheerleading camp. Part of me did want to go, to be more than the smart Cahill for once. I wanted to be as beautiful as Ellie, popular and athletic like Josh. But none of this was my idea. I was willing to let it go after Ellie swore to me that she didn’t know what Daddy was talking about, that she didn’t have money for camp now, nor had she earned any last year.

It was her dream – she wanted us doing this together. Couldn’t Daddy see that? Well, it was no doubt why he didn’t. I argued every single one of Ellie’s points, and when that didn’t work, I lost my temper.

Something tightened around my wrist.

I gasped. What are you doing?

I’m so sorry, Emma. It’s for your own good. They can’t let you jump off this gurney. Kenny spoke from somewhere in the vicinity of overhead, but the two bodies on either side of me were Matthews and the guy I refused to talk to.

I thrashed against the restraint, but it was too late. They already had me tied down. Please! You don’t understand. We were fighting this morning and I said something terrible – I didn’t mean it, and I’ve got to tell Daddy.

Kenny’s face hovered above mine, such kindness in his eyes. They engulfed me, sucked the air out of my lungs like the heat had. Shh… you’ll see him later, Emma. Right now, you need to focus on you.

Someone slipped a mask over my nose and mouth. A blast of stale air assaulted me. I didn’t like it, but since my hands were tied down, there wasn’t a whole lot I could do but accept it. Focus on me, huh? That’s the kind of thinking that got me into this mess in the first place – whatever that was. I still had no idea.

The voice cut through my misery again. Do you remember what happened now, Emma?

I nodded.

Tell me.

I’m not the perfect one. I couldn’t hear my voice above the din. The anguished whisper was inaudible, but he nodded as if he understood every word I said. Josh and Ellie are popular. I’m only smart. Then they had a baby, and she’s everything. My eyes burned.

She’s everything?

Smart, pretty – not a day goes by without someone saying she looks like Ellie did when she was a baby, but she’s already ten times smarter than me. She’s not even a year old yet and she talks like she’s three.

Emma, what happened this morning?

My throat ached. I pushed the words past the burning coal lodged there. Daddy said I couldn’t go to cheerleading camp. He said we couldn’t afford it. I overheard him talking to Mom about it. I was supposed to be getting Maddy dressed, and I eavesdropped on my parents instead. I was so angry with him… so…

Shh, he grabbed my right hand and squeezed it. Take a breath. What happened next?

We were late because of the argument. Josh didn’t wait for us, and then we missed the bus. Daddy had to drive us to school. I kept… I kept fighting with him. I told him I hate him, because he said… he said that even if I did earn the money for cheerleading camp this summer, he wasn’t going to let me go, so I shouldn’t waste my time on tryouts today.

Do you remember what happened when you got to school?

My eyelid was sandpaper scraping over my eyeball when I blinked. What happened when I got to school? Did we get to school? I – I don’t remember…

Think about the argument. Think about being late for school.

It seemed so important to him that I remember it. I felt oddly overwhelmed with a desire to please him – and believe me, those feelings were totally absent earlier this morning. They weren’t always absent, except when Maddy was the topic. The school psychologist called it entitlement.

I remember the fight. We got to school, and… and Daddy stopped the car behind the bus. Its lights were still flashing. The stop lights, you know?

Kenny nodded. What happened next?

Ellie…

She did something?

I nodded. "She slid over in the middle of the seat, we were getting out on the side by the sidewalk, you know? She… she saw something, and tried to tell me. I said, shut up, Ellie. This is all your fault. I don’t see you trying to help me by telling the truth for once."

Do you remember what she was trying to say?

No. But she tried to shove me out the door.

Is that all you remember, Emma? I felt his fingers grip my right hand again. It’s very important that you tell me exactly what you remember.

Something tickled in the back of my brain. Ellie sitting next to me in the middle of the back seat crowding me. Daddy turned toward me, yelling at me for blaming Ellie. Mom pled for him to be reasonable. And Ellie shrieked, slammed me