The sales clerk finished with Jim’s clothing and our total sat at a hundred-fifty-five, nineteen dollars over what we had to spend. I pulled Kevin’s stuff out of the buggy first, stacking it carefully as she scanned it through. The linens went next, followed by the jacket I needed and my jeans. By the time she rang my hoodies and long johns through, we were at our limit. She hadn’t got to any of my shirts yet, or the couple pairs of sweats I had picked up to sleep in. Not knowing what to do, I continued to let her scan the items through even though I knew we were going over.
“That’ll be three hundred forty-four dollars,” she said as I handed over our three hundred dollar voucher.
“Um, we went over. I’m sorry, I should have said something sooner,” I said mortified, knowing I had caused her extra work.
“Well, let’s see what we can do,” she said nicely, studying the voucher over her rhinestone spectacles. “Ah, it’s a voucher from Thurston House. Well, we can take the taxes off because you get a tax free deduction,” she said, hitting a button that took our total down to three hundred twenty-three dollars.
I grabbed the last bag that had my books and sweats in it and started to pull out the contents.
“Now, now, not so quickly. Did you know that Wednesdays are senior days?” she asked. “And judging by the worn-out look on your face, I bet you could use a senior day break,” she said with sparkle in her eyes as she hit another button on the register, taking the total down to two hundred ninety-three dollars. “See, much better,” she said, handing me a gift certificate for seven dollars.
“Thank you so much,” I said, feeling a slight tickle in my throat.
“My pleasure, dearie, now you go home and take care of yourself and your sweet brother,” she said, nodding at Kevin who was bouncing around outside.
“I will,” I promised, loading our bags into the buggy.
“Did you get a voucher for the credit?” Lucinda asked as I pushed the buggy out the front door.
“Yeah, but it was only seven dollars,” I said, shivering in the cold, not bothering to tell her what the kind “leech,” as she had referred to the woman earlier, had done for us.
“Shit, I told you they were a bunch of blood suckers,” she complained to Jim as they stubbed out there cigarettes.
“Not really,” I muttered as I loaded our bags into the car. “We all got a lot of stuff,” I continued in an offhand manner.
Lucinda continued to complain as we pulled out of the parking lot, but I tuned her out by reading one of my new books from the bag I had placed on the seat beside me. Her voice faded away as I quickly lost myself in the story. I often speculated that if there was a God, he must have given me the gift of losing myself in a book as a lifeline. When I was reading, it didn’t matter that we were all crammed into the car together twenty-four-seven, or that we had skipped several meals. I could immerse myself so completely into a book that everything else became trivial.
My reading was interrupted when Lucinda pulled the car into the parking lot of a laundromat.
I stifled a groan. I knew we needed to wash the clothes, but after the stress of the thrift store, I just wanted to be back at our temporary home. “Can we do it at the laundromat at the trailer park?” I asked hopeful.
“No, it only has two washers. Besides, Jim and I deserve a coffee break while you and Kevin do the laundry,” Lucinda said, handing me a stack of crumbled up one-dollar bills. “This is it for cash until Jim can find work,” she added.
“Okay, I’ll make it stretch,” I said, smoothing out the bills as I went to retrieve a cart to transport our clothes into the building.
After I loaded up the clothes and laundry soap we kept in the trunk of the car, Lucinda and Jim pulled out of the lot, promising to return in a few hours.
I sorted the clothes into three large loads to conserve our money while Kevin used the coin machine to turn the dollar bills into quarters. At least the place was empty, so I could use three machines next to each other. It was a pain trying to keep an eye on several washers scattered throughout the facility.
“Okay punk, thanks for your help. How ‘bout a snack?”
“Really?” he asked, racing over to the vending machine.
“Pick one and we can split a soda,” I added, feeling extravagant.
He gnawed on his lip. “I don’t know, Katelyn, I don’t want you to get in trouble.”
“It’s fine, dopey boy. Mom and Jim are off getting coffee, right? Well, this is our treat. We’ll just keep it as our secret, okay?”
He nodded. He was smart enough to know I was breaking the rules, but his desire for something to eat outweighed his conscience.
Several minutes later, I finally had to prompt him to make a choice. He was torn between chips and his favorite candy, Peanut M&M’s.
“Why don’t you get the M&M’s since they have peanuts inside, that way it’s like you’re getting a double treat?”
“Good idea,” he said, grinning at me.
I plunked some change into the vending machine for him and headed over to the soda machine to get us a drink.
“Here you go, sis,” he said, offering me the open bag of candy as we settled onto the hard resin seats.
“No thanks, kid, I’m not all that hungry.”
“Are you sure?” he asked, not quite believing me.
“Positive,” I said, trying to block out the smell of his candy so that my stomach wouldn’t growl and betray my lie.
Kevin munched happily on his unexpected treat while I read my book until the laundry was ready to be switched around.
A little later, while the laundry was tumbling in the dryers, I gave Kevin a ride in the laundry cart since the facility was still empty of other patrons. He loved it when I would pretend I was going to crash the cart into something, only to jerk the cart to a stop at the last possible moment. The belly laughs that poured from him made me giggle in delight. Moments like this only clarified why I could never leave him.
Our fun came to a close as the clothes began to dry. Lucinda was seriously obsessive compulsive about her clothes getting wrinkled, and only hers mind you, which seemed like an oxymoron considering that the majority of the time we lived in the car. Though I felt the whole idea was ridiculous, I’d taken enough hits over the years to know it had to be done right. So, as each piece of her clothing became dry, Kevin and I would pull it out and shake it vigorously before smoothing it out on the folding table and rolling it like Lucinda preferred. Rolling the clothes before they were packed helped eliminate wrinkles and crease lines and Lucinda had come to appreciate this method.
Kevin and I finished the laundry as the sun was setting outside, making the temperature fall rapidly. While we waited for Jim and Lucinda to return, I made Kevin change out of his thin worn-out jeans into a pair of the long johns and thicker jeans we had purchased earlier. He also grabbed one of his hot-from-the-dryer, long sleeved shirts to put on over his t-shirt.
Lucinda and Jim pulled into the parking lot as I was sliding into one of my new hoodies. The warmth from the dryer engulfed me and chased away the chill that had begun to creep into the badly-insulated laundromat.
I handed over the change and watched Lucinda as she counted out the three remaining bills.
“How many loads did you do?” she asked, causing Kevin to stiffen beside me.
I patted his hand in the dark, reassuring him. “Four,” I lied easily, not feeling any guilt. Kevin having something in his empty belly outweighed lies in my book. “The washers were seventy-five cents each, and each load took fifty cents worth of drying,” I added before she could ask, accounting for every cent we’d spent.
Chapter 5
The next day of school went much like my first day had gone except I now had my own desk in each of my classes.
As luck would have it, my new desk was located smack dab next to Max’s which seriously shook my resolve to ignore his advances. He was as attentive as the day before and I couldn’t help but respond to his easy nature as he continued to pepper me with questions.
“How'd your assessment go?” he asked as we headed out of math class later that afternoon.
“Um, I’m not sure. Hanson said he would go over it tonight,” I said, trying to sound blasé.
“Well, my offer still stands,” He said.
“Thanks, I appreciate it.”
“But…”
“No buts, I’m just not sure what I'll need help with,” I answered, trying to skate around the real issue.
“No prob. It all comes easy to me.”
“Wow, cocky much?” I asked, laughing at his pretend hurt expression.
“Ha-ha. Nah, I'm not sayin I don't have my faults. Don’t even think of asking me to make anything in the kitchen, that's a complete disaster.”
“Ha, me too,” I laughed.
“Great, our future kids will starve,” he said, grinning at me.
“Guess that means marriage is out,” I joked.
“No way, we'll just hire a cook or order out,” he said, finding a solution to a moot point.
“Genius,” I said, still bantering as we took our seats back in Mr. Graves’s class.
“So, what are your plans this weekend?” he asked just before Mr. Graves could start in on our science experiment.
“Unpacking,” I lied, sidestepping what he was really asking.
“The whole weekend?” he persisted.
“Yeah…” I was cut off as Mr. Graves called our attention to the front of the room.
I glanced back at Rebecca to see if she had caught our exchange and saw the resigned look on her face. I was confused on the whole who-was-dating-whom situation. They all seemed so close. Even earlier that day, I was convinced Clint and Alicia were dating until he hit on me during P.E. class. Alicia had been standing right beside me, and I tried to prepare myself for a verbal attack, but she merely laughed when I turned him down.
The rest of the day passed quickly after Mr. Graves paired us up to do the experiment listed on the board. The steps for the experiment were extensive, so my partner Courtney and I spent little time chitchatting as we did the appropriate calculations needed to complete the task. Mr. Graves strolled around the room, stopping at each group to offer pointers or praise.
“Good job, girls,” he said, stopping at our table to compliment us.
“Thanks, I did a similar one last year,” I said, feeling a little guilty for the step-up I had.
“Excellent, half the battle is remembering what you’ve learned,” he said, patting my shoulder as he strolled away.
“Man, I’m not sure I’ve ever had a teacher even half as nice as the ones here,” I told Courtney as we cleaned up our mess.
“Well, my dad kind of demands it,” she said, stowing our beakers in the appropriate place.
“Your dad?” I asked puzzled.
“Yeah, he kind of heads up the school board here, and I’ve heard he’s tough as nails,” she said, laughing lightly.
“Wow, that’s really cool,” I said, feeling a touch envious that her father had taken such an active role in her education.
“It’s a pain sometimes. He always knows everythinggggggggg that’s going on,” she said, dragging out the word.
“I bet,” I said giggling.
“So, I was kind of eavesdropping yesterday and heard you telling the others that you’ve been to a few schools. What’s that like?”
I grimaced at her words. “Not fun,” I finally answered honestly.
“Really? I’m a little jealous of all the people you’ve gotten to meet. Everyone here’s cool, but sometimes I crave more space. I hate feeling like we’re in a fishbowl all the time with everyone always in your business.”
“That’s true, but I think it’s pretty cool how all of you have known each other all your lives,” I said, trying to keep the wistful tone out of my voice.
“Yeah, that part’s pretty cool, but it still gets pretty cliquey here,” she said, looking over at Rebecca and her friends.
I nodded my head, understanding what she was saying. In my last high school of more than three thousand students, we had the standard division of groups. There were the jocks and cheerleaders, who were all nice for the most part, but preferred to hang with each other since their sports kept them so tightly entwined; the band geeks, who you never saw that much because they were always practicing somewhere; the churchgoers, who enjoyed spreading their message and were always trying to recruit you for some church event. The druggies were neither here nor there. They floated through school like they didn’t have a care in the world. The worst of all the groups were the really smart kids. Not the pocket-protector-wearing, tape-on-the-glasses nerdy types, I mean the ones on the college track. They had little time for anyone outside of their realm and enjoyed the exclusivity of their group. Then there were the mice as I like to call them, who were the loners or quiet types. Most of the time they preferred to be by themselves, although occasionally they would be brave enough to accept a friend into their lonely existence. The in-betweeners were everyone else and enjoyed the privilege of floating into any group they chose. That’s where I fit in. I usually started the first day as a mouse, but would manage to float into whatever group suited me best.