She continued to stare. "You all right?"

"Fine. Everything's fine."

She shrugged and turned away.

Marc did look good, and it was true - I missed him. When I was with Marc, I didn't have to wonder every second of the day what he was thinking about or whether he liked me or Farah better.

Still, hadn't Lance followed me, checked up on me after the library disaster? And he'd been early to meet me that night. Now he was talking to me in the hallways and hanging around. Those things meant something, didn't they? Well, didn't they?

I was giddy with relief when my grounding was over. I grabbed my phone and hugged it like it a long-lost pet. It was pathetic. I promised myself I wasn't going to ever lie again - I didn't need the grief. I wanted things to calm down and return to normal.

I sure didn't think the next turmoil was going come from my hard-working, always-gone dad. After school on Wednesday, I walked home like usual. Dad's car was in the driveway, which was major strange. It was never in the driveway when I got home, or any other time for that matter. He was always at work.

I opened the front door, listened, and didn't hear a thing.

"Dad?" I ventured in and clicked the door shut behind me. "Dad, you here?"

I walked into the living room and there he was, sitting on the couch staring at nothing.

A sudden rush of fear knotted my stomach. Something was horribly wrong. "Dad, you all right?"

He flinched, turning toward me as if I'd awakened him from a deep sleep. His eyes were wide and oddly blank, like an unused piece of paper. His voice was flat and distant as he asked, "Do you like Bates Academy?"

"Yeah, both Sarah and I do. Why? What happened? Why are you home?"

"This will be your last month there," he said, his voice strangely loud. The words exploded like an unexpected landmine.

"What are you talking about?" I hurried over to the couch and sat beside him. "Our last month? Why?"

"I got laid off." His voice became subdued and echoed lifelessly through the room.

"From which job? What happened?"

"Convenient Paper. Been losing clients for months. I thought it'd rebound. Always did before, but not this time. One client after another dropped off like dead skin. I kept telling the regional director I could get them back. Turns out, I couldn't. n.o.body's buying extra paper products these days. n.o.body." My dad had never said so many words to me at once in my whole life.

"Your job at McDafe's. It's safe, right? You can still sell copiers."

"Oh yes, it's safe. For what it's worth."

"You do great there. People are always buying from you. Mom says without you, McDafe's would go under."

Dad glanced at me, his eyes mirrors of sadness. "Your mother exaggerates."

I was silent, unsure of what to say. Seeing Dad this way was creeping me out.

I put on a smile. "It'll be okay, Dad. We'll think of something."

He patted my leg. "Of course, it'll be okay. Don't you worry, Emili."

"And school..."

"Bates will have to go. The only way we've afforded tuition has been because of my two jobs."

"But, Dad, they have vouchers now to pay for private schools. Can't we get two for Sarah and me?"

"We don't qualify yet, and they don't give them in the middle of the year."

"Then you'll get another job. Who wouldn't want you?"

He rubbed his hands on his knees. "We're about to find out."

Trying to rea.s.sure my dad was not the natural order of things. I was way out of my comfort zone. Finally, I patted him awkwardly on the back and stood up.

"Emili, sorry I dumped on you. It was highly inappropriate, even though true. Tuition will have to go."

"It's okay. We'll be fine."

I walked to my bedroom. Leave Bates? Go to public school where I didn't know anyone and no one knew me? The year wasn't even half over. Wouldn't Bates let me keep coming for free until Dad got another job? At least for a while? I'd been a faithful student for years. Didn't my loyalty count for something? Maybe if Dad explained it all to Mr. Ramos, it'd be okay. My dad could be pretty convincing.

I shoved my stuffed animals aside and sat on my bed. I pulled my phone from my pocket and texted Lance. Call pls. Lance would make me feel better.

I sat there and waited. I carefully lined up my animals again by size - big bear, stuffed ducks, small bear. I studied my phone. Nothing. Didn't Lance have his phone on? I texted Farah the same message and waited. Still nothing. Where was everyone? I cringed to think about Sarah finding out. She'd freak. With all her talk about never seeing Dad, she'd come unglued when she found out he was laid off. There would go her dream of taking dance lessons, too.

Everything was in the toilet.

I stood up and started pacing, staring at my phone. Why didn't they call me? This would totally change my life, and no one cared. I started to chew on my thumbnail then stopped. I didn't chew my fingernails anymore. I quit last year after painting each fingernail with this disgusting dirt-colored liquid that tasted like sucking on a gas can. For three weeks, I had painted it on. Three weeks! I'd broken the habit and wasn't about to start again now.

I could work on a new perfume recipe. I walked to my dresser and inspected my essential oils. There was enough jojoba oil to base two or three more batches, so I only needed to decide how I wanted to mix the scents. I got out my log book to record a new blend. I picked up my favorite pen and then laid it back down.

My mind wasn't on it.

Someone had to be paying attention to their phone. Why was no one texting? Without thinking, I texted Marc. Big chge. Upset. I pushed send before I could stop myself. I knew Marc would answer me. Some people paid attention to their messages.

My phone dinged. Marc. What's happening?

I sat on the edge of my bed. A surge of relief jangled in my heart as I flopped down on my blankets. Marc was there for me. He still cared. As I typed in a return text, the reality of the situation returned. Dad lost job.

Oh! Sorry!

Chge school.

I waited for his next response and jumped when my phone rang.

Chapter Eleven.

"Marc."

"You have to change schools?"

"Probably. Dad told me. He lost his job at Convenient Paper. He's home right now."

Marc knew my dad was rarely home. "Hey, I'm sorry. He still has his copier job, right?"

"Yeah, but it won't pay the tuition."

"What about your mom's job?"

"Still has it, but it doesn't make much. I've heard her rant about her crummy pay often enough."

There was a long silence. "Where would you go?"

"Public. What else is there?"

"Homeschool?"

"Yeah, and who would teach us? I can't see Dad getting into it, and Mom might want to but she wouldn't have the time. Besides, can you imagine me staying home with Sarah all day?"

"Yeah, it wouldn't be good. Wow, Emili, sorry." His voice was soft and sympathetic, pure perfect Marc.

Tears came to my eyes. "Me too."

Another silence.

"If there's anything I can do..."

"Thanks. There isn't. Thanks for calling though. It means a lot."

"Yeah. We're friends, aren't we Emili? You like me enough to be friends?" There was a catch in his voice.

I swallowed. "Yes, yes, of course. We're friends, good friends."

"Good friends," he repeated.

"Marc, we..." I stopped. What was I going to say? It felt so good to talk to him. His voice was soothing, yet strong. I had a sudden urge to curl up in his lap.

"We better go," he said.

"Yep."

We didn't, though. Neither of us hung up. We sat on the line, listening to each other breathe.

After another minute, he said it again. "We better go."

"I know. Bye then."

"Bye back." And he hung up.

I pressed the phone to my chest and took a deep breath. I rolled over on my bed, clutching the phone like it was Marc himself. Did I want him back? After all that had happened?

No. Talking to Marc was an old habit, nothing more. It didn't mean anything.

The front door slammed and I heard Sarah's voice get louder and louder. Obviously, she'd seen Dad. I wasn't surprised when she burst through my door two minutes later.

"Emili!" She was crying. "Do you know?"

"Yeah, I know."

"What are we going to do?" Now she started wailing.

"Be quiet. Dad will hear you. He feels bad enough without you carrying on. Besides, I remember you said you wanted to go to public school."

She clamped her hand over her mouth, while the tears kept rolling.

I patted the bed. "Sit down. It won't be so bad."

Her eyes grew huge. She took her hand from her mouth. "How can you say that? I didn't mean it before. Public school? Are you crazy? It'll be horrible!"

"No, it won't." I didn't believe my own words, but I wanted to say something to calm her down. "The rest of town goes to public school. It's not so bad."

She kept shaking her head. "I'm not going, I tell you. I'm not going. They can't make me. I'll homeschool myself."

Right, like that would ever happen. I said nothing - she already knew it was impossible.

"What if no one likes me? What if I don't make any friends?"

"Don't be ridiculous. Of course, you'll make friends."

"No, I won't. I won't have good friends like Becky and Danae and Jara."

I took hold of both her shoulders. "Yes, you will Sarah. You're a nice girl. And you'll still be friends with Becky and Danae and Jara. It's not like you're moving to Mars. You're talented and everyone will love you. Look how well you dance and you haven't even had lessons yet."

"Now I'll never get them!" Her crying increased.

"Yes, you will. The whole world won't automatically stop because we have to go to public school."

"My world will!"

So would mine. She nailed it.

"I've got to call my friends. They're going to die. Simply die!" She got up and walked to my door, then looked over her shoulder. "Aren't you upset, Emili?"