Allyson In Between ✔︎

Chapter Eleven

"What does that even mean, Ally? Who do you think you were in North Carolina, some sort of saint?"

"No, I... We were friends there. We watched out for each other, right?"

Lindsay presses her lips together. Her head turns away, but her narrowed eyes stay on mine. It's a look that echoes the question she just asked me. Except maybe with an expletive this time?

Yeah. She definitely added an F-bomb.

But then her arms drop to her sides. "If you really want to help me," she says, hands fisted, tone biting, "then promise you won't tell Mom and Dad what you just saw."

I shake my head, continuing my trek toward the street. I don't think I can make that promise. "You need help and I can't..." I stop walking. Trapped, because the concrete culvert comes up to my waist and the sloped banks on either side of it are canvased with loose gravel and mud.

It's an absurd overreaction, I know. If I can't decide which is the safest way to get out of a stupid ditch, then how am I going to fix what's wrong with my sister? 

"It's not a big deal," Lindsay says, stepping first, onto the concrete pipe—which juts out, making a substantial ledge—and then onto the soft grass landing. She turns and offers her hand to pull me up. "Weed is practically legal now."

"Practically?"

"It's not legal in in every state, but—"

"Is it legal in this one?" I ask. "Is it legal for a fourteen year old?"

"Calm down, Ally. It was one joint and it's gone. I left it back there in the dirt. But if you tell Mom and Dad about this, it's going to be a huge problem—and I'm not talking about me getting in trouble. Things are different here. Mom and Dad aren't the same people they were. We're not the same family."

I lift my hand to say stop, give me a minute. And my sister agrees with a dramatic sigh.

Things are definitely different here—at this new house. In Virginia.

But the sky is the same: Carolina blue. The sun feels warm on my face. And when I walk back into that house I can't remember, my parents will be there. Dad, with his easy laugh and warm eyes, and Mom... She seems more nervous than usual, but that's understandable. It's just me and Lindsay who've changed.

She wedges a finger under her colorful collection of bracelets—and I catch myself, taking a step back. Because I'd forgotten about the word written on her wrist, and it's there again. In fresh black ink. Liar.

"You know about Dad's work situation, right?" she asks.

"Um, yeah. The new job that brought us here fell through."

"Mom wanted to move back to North Carolina. She wanted to put this house up for sale and go live with Grandma until we could get a new house there, but Dad talked her out of it. He promised to find another job here—and when he finally got an offer he turned it down. That's when the screaming started." 

"Screaming?" I ask.

"They started arguing on a regular basis."

So. They were screaming at each other?

No, I don't believe that. My parents love each other too much to act that way.

"It was bad, Ally. There were weekends that Dad didn't even come home and Mom stayed locked in her room crying."

My sister is crying now. Silent tears she swipes off her cheeks. Fast, like she's embarrassed by them.

I drop my eyes to the asphalt, because I don't want her to see my distrust. My parents have disagreements but they don't scream. They wouldn't.