“Don't worry, Molly, Dad'll finish the basement soon. You'll see.” Angel looks so Sarah Brightman, I expect her to start singing—

“Yeah, and your mom's scared that if she tells her super about what's going on at home, I'll get put with some other foster home, even when they get certified. I can't choose, because I'm 12. If I were 13, maybe a judge would listen to me. That's only next month, though. Oh, it's almost ten. I'd better go home now.” I licked the last of the powdered sugar off my dessert plate. Dreaded going out in cold rain. I’ll have to be extra careful not to track anything in.

If only my mom would make Mexican Wedding Cookies! Meat and potatoes in the slow cooker. We used to eat out almost every night. Didn't I complain about all the kid meals? Not much variety there. Mom doesn't bother to learn a new recipe. They’re always dieting, and eat most of it. I sniffed the air and enjoyed the smell of cookies that lingered.

I offer to cook and she gives me a lecture about not wanting to eat my mistakes. And how much they would cost. She doesn’t know I cook my cat’s diabetic diet. Our neighbors give me food for me, not Sylvania. Who can eat, in this nightmare? What would Mom do, if she checked that refrigerator in the garage?

Toni, black-haired like her daughter, never complained, even when Angel's apron caught on the flour canister and it went over. We were seven and I helped her sit on the counter. Didn't even fuss at me for causing the whole thing! We did help her sweep it all up. Mark came home from work, saw the mess, and offered to go get more. What a great dad he would be!

Angel sighed, and got off her bed. Such a soft bed! And her mom made the pretty quilt by hand. Matching, lacy flowered curtains. Mom got mad when Toni gave me a bedspread with rainbows on it for Christmas last month. “I wish you could just stay. They couldn't make you come home, could they?”

“Mom could call the police and ask them to escort me home. She'd do it, too! I looked it up on a legal site. Let's go.” I looked out the window at their older neighborhood. I'd rather live here than in ours, any day. Red ringlets dripped in my face. My green eyes have bags like an old—

Toni came to the doorway. She and her daughter had beautiful light blue eyes. “Molly, I'm ready to drive you over.”

“I can walk, Mrs. Pedersen.”

“I worry about you walking in the dark—”

“And, I've been learning karate. Hi-jahh!” I struck my mean pose.

Toni laughed. “Honey, you're so small, he'd pick you up and run off with you!”

Mark ran to the doorway. “What's going on in here?” He chuckled.

“I've been learning karate. Want to let me practice on you?”

He laughed, but waved me after him. “You can try. Where you want me?” Mark Pedersen kept fit by riding bikes with us every day. My dad had flab.

I ran in the living room and moved the coffee table. “Here.” I stood opposite their soft sofa. “You're a bad guy. Come up behind me and do a half-Nielsen.”

“Okay.” He did. He's 6'1” and 200 pounds. I'm 4'1” and 87. Yeah, sure. But I stomped the floor by his foot. Pretended to elbow him in the ribs. Moved my right foot back. Grabbed his elbow and shoulder. Threw him over my back! His head bounced off the cushions! “Gosh, you okay, Mr. Pedersen?” His head almost missed the cushions!

Mark sprawled, upside down, on their sofa! “I'm okay. Wow! Did you take lessons?” His blue eyes blinked at me.

“I found it on YouTube. Maybe it was jujitsu.” I didn't expect him to go that far! The sofa creaked as he sat up.

“That, young lady, was awesome! I didn't believe you could do that!” Mr. Pedersen laughed loudly as he rolled to his feet. Rubbed his hip. Angel helped him straighten the blue quilt, fallen pillows, and lace covers on the arms.

“You proved your point, Molly, as usual. But, I'm still driving you home.” Toni shook her finger at me. Her fake stern expression was comical. Mom just looks mad all the time. Likes to shake her finger, but never kids.

I laughed. Felt awful about Mr. Pedersen's hip. He didn't limp as he walked us out to the garage, thank goodness. Faint smell of gasoline worried me. Our garage has junk, not cars. Electric lawn mower.

“Maybe bullies won't bother you at school, now!” Angel laughed.

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“You know I don't dare do anything! I'd get expelled. High school's same rules about any kind of fight.”

“I miss you, Molly.” She swept her long, black curls back and opened the back door. “Marietta Middle’s just not the same without you.”

“I miss you, too! It’s harder to make friends there. Wish I had you to eat lunch with.” Half the teachers still ask me where my parents are. As if they’d ever eat with me. Mrs. Pedersen would but the school said no.

I opened the other back door. Angel’s mom smiled as she got in their blue Honda Civic. Used her best British accent. “I'm playing the chauffeur again! Well!” She pretended to pull a hat over her black waves, which made us laugh.

Angel made me promise to teach her what I learned. I sent the link to her phone.

The ride was too short. Drizzle made the streets shiny. Hardly any traffic. Dad's red Porsche 922 was parked in the driveway. Crooked. I didn't say anything. Mark got the blue Honda because Toni loves blue. Dad just showed up with this car last month without asking. Mom fussed because it wasn’t black, saying the police’d be pulling them over all the time. He traded her car and his, to get it. They always fight about money. The house is in her name, so he insisted both cars be in his. If Mark wants something, Toni gets that much money.

“I'll go in with you—”

“If you do, it'll be worse. Thanks, y'all! See ya tomorrow when you get home, Angel!”

“Ok, Molly!”

Cold drizzle got my neck. I hate to get wet unless I’m swimming. Can’t cut through the grass or I’ll be cleaning. Wished I’d zipped. Rain smelled fresh, but if it has to be cold, can’t it be snow? I missed snow in New Jersey when I was little, but nothing else. Well, Granma’s singing until Grandpa yelled at her to shut up.

I ran in and shivered. Rain dripped off my jacket and backpack but the driveway was clean, at least. Checked my shoes. Mom was sleeping on the couch, and Dad pulled at her. The smell of old cigarette smoke from their coats on the hook hit. They dripped from the rain. I saw red lipstick on the lapel of Dad’s London Fog. Mom likes bronze shades. Frowned at me. “Molly, where have you been?”

“At the Pedersens—”

“You know I'll call them. I'm calling right now.” He dropped his phone.

I got my book bag from the mud room where I’d left it to dry earlier. My laptop and things are already in my room. Clear with black piping. These don’t last long. “G'night, Dad!”

He was on the phone. Mom snored. Dad swayed. I wished they'd quit going to those parties. I just went upstairs.

Hated my room. That bed had a really lumpy mattress from Aunt Mabel. Her oak bed. Her oak dresser. Mom's knickknacks decorated it. Aunt Mabel's curtains showed our neighborhood with all its fancy cookie-cutter houses. Stone facades. I wasn't allowed to put anything of mine on the dresser, but I had a tiny desk and red plastic goose-neck lamp. Blue padded folding chair.

Took off my blue GSU rain jacket and hung it on the hook. Shivered. Had an old hand towel hanging in my closet, so I took the white cloth and rubbed my hair. Mom threw away my nice rainbow one.

Didn’t need it, but I sprayed my floral air freshener all around. Love the smell of roses! I just changed the cat box at 5 while Angel and I rode bikes. Fished an art project out of the garbage, then realized it wasn’t worth it. Angel said Toni could make it smell better, and she did. It’s in her room along with some stuff from Friday art class. We got some projects back from that December art competition. Got to go down to Midtown High in Atlanta for that.

Madison won. I smiled at him, but he whispered that he really wants to be a girl. I wasn’t wanting a boyfriend. Boys? When I’ve got a career to think about? Nobody gives skinny me a second look. Everybody wants to date Angel, but they don’t go to her Church so she invites ‘em. And they avoid her, then her friends aren’t friends any more. Religion isn’t fashionable. I love her Church. We like Brian, but it’s just friends. Somebody falls in love and it ruins everything.

On the white desktop, I had a metal organizer with a drawer for my pens. Angel had blue spray paint and we painted it at her house last week. I sighed relief that these things were still there. But, my portrait of Mrs. Pedersen was still on the desk! Carefully, I slid the top drawer of my dresser out. Taped it underneath. Slid it back into place. Maybe Mom won't think to look there. My dinosaur from the Kinder egg Angel got me was still in it. I taped it to the back with several other things. It still closed flush. The side towards the wall was very warped and curved out. When I bought it I thought, what a good place to hide stuff.

Laid out my books and completed homework on my desk. Made sure I didn't forget any assignments. All my college assignments were online. I put all the stuff to turn in Tuesday in my folders built into my 3 ring notebook. It had a new tear in the rainbow and butterfly vinyl. I sighed. I bought this thing 3 years ago. Maybe it's time to dig into my savings account again. I put a new layer of clear packing tape on it. Tomorrow’s Martin Luther King Day. I have to leave everything out so Mom can inspect. She’ll rearrange it.

Sylvania ran upstairs and jumped in my lap. I hugged her. She'll be a year old soon, and I mentally calculated that her shots and checkup would be about $150. I've got that much. She'll need more food soon. Thursday, I'll have time to shop. Maybe I'll get her shots first, then shop. My beautiful white Persian can't hear the noise of Dad dragging Mom to bed. Complaints. She whacks the rail with her hand to emphasize unintelligible mumbles. Mom glared at me with her cold brown eyes as she passed. “That cat is shedding all over my beautiful sofa! I'm getting rid of her soon. Just you wait—”

“Fern, I'll clean up the hair. A kid deserves to have a pet—”

“Kid? She's in college. She doesn't need a pet to finish her degree and graduate, does she? She'll be too busy in med school.” She rambled on until the door to their bedroom closed. They didn't argue long. Won't remember it tomorrow.

I hugged Sylvania. Got up and closed my door. Turned off my light. Covered us both with the gorgeous quilt Toni made for me. Sylvania curled up against my tummy. Hoped my sobs didn't carry. She wrapped her front paws around my arm. She knows when I’m sad. The sound of her purr soothes me.