Ten of Me ✓

Seven

"I didn't have an appointment, so I went to the farmer's market and got some fresh food," Mom continued. "I figured we could have fruit salad with dinner tonight." She sounded like a poster mom, because I knew the family would never sit down together and have dinner. I'd probably eat out, anyway.

For a moment, I wondered if something was wrong with my mother--my purple-haired mother who was more likely to spontaneously go white-water rafting or rock climbing than wander around a farmer's market. Dad was usually the domestic guy.

"Okay," I said, deciding to dismiss my suspicions for now. "Are you going back to work later? I want another transformation."

"Sure honey." Mom washed off the knife and began unwrapping the package of grapes. "I have a few more appointments anyway. What hair color are you thinking?"

I bit my lip, thinking. "I don't know. Not brown. Noah almost recognized me yesterday."

I hadn't exactly told Mom about how my little spy trips had turned out--how I knew exactly what Noah was up to. I thought if she knew, she'd tell me that my job was finished and that I needed to go back to being Just Nicole, twenty-four/seven. But she didn't understand that I couldn't go back to that.

"All right." That wide, gullible smile was back. "How about blonde? Some irresistible blue eyes, a few curls..."

"What's going on in here?"

Dad was standing in the archway of the kitchen, his arms crossed. I had no idea how long he'd been there--I didn't even know he'd been in the house.

"Hey Dad," I said, smiling tightly. Mom had gone back to the fruit--she was plucking the grapes off of their stems with a little more force than necessary. I concentrated on watching as each of them dropped into the clear container, sorted neatly, all of them just the same...

"I see you're looking normal today," said Dad. He didn't move, but he didn't sound angry either. "Are you planning on keeping it that way?"

I didn't know what to say, so I looked at Mom, but she was focusing intently on her grapes.

"Um..." I shifted from foot to foot, glancing back and forth between my parents. Neither were saying anything.

"I'm going to go start on my homework," I said, and with that, I'd slipped into the family room and disappeared up the stairs, my feet making muted sounds on the carpet.

I didn't make it up to my room soon enough to hear the voices back downstairs growing increasingly louder.

Shoving my bedroom door shut with my foot, I collapsed onto my bed and stared up at the ceiling, thinking. I needed to get my disguise and go out, there was no question about that. But based on the intensifying argument going on below me, that wasn't going to happen anytime soon.

The voices got louder--a deeper one and a higher one. Dad never yelled--he was cool and calm and collected, usually because he was too busy to care. I shoved a pillow on top of my head and tried to breathe even though it was sort of suffocating me.

My phone rang, and I shoved my hand into the back pocket of my shorts to glance at the caller ID--Noah. Would he be able to hear my parents yelling if I answered?

Just to be safe, I slipped inside my bathroom and shut the door, then answered. "Hello?"

"Hey Nicole, what's up?"

A door slammed below me, rattling the house. I bit my lip so hard I thought it started bleeding.

"Listen, Noah, I really can't talk right now. Can I call you back later?"