I got up and my parents were gone. Gave Sylvania her insulin shot and fed her. Mom never uses the refrigerator in the garage they bought when she was throwing parties at home. I made a new batch of her food, enough to last through Wednesday. And, had the last of my oatmeal. I liked to make my own from scratch with frozen strawberries in the microwave. Running out of everything. So tempted to get food out of my bank account, but Sylvania needs her vet appointment.

Then I cleaned the whole house, my usual Monday routine. Since I had the day off from school, I tackled all of the weekly and monthly list Mom had on the fridge. Changed light bulbs. Dusted the attic. Washed every window, even though they were clean on the inside. Outside was always a mess. And, I mowed and raked the entire huge yard. Not much grass. Dad keeps saying he’ll get seed so I can plant it and every time he finds some on sale, Mom says no. Too expensive.

Took Sylvania to the litter box. Put her in her backpack carrier, and roller bladed to Angel's. She met me with a snack in the butterfly lunch bag she bought me. “Have you got a minute?” Her blue eyes were teary. I felt bad.

“I'm sorry, but I have to be on time for my volunteer job at Kennestone.” We walked to the shed where they kept my bike for me.

“I put air in your tires when I put some in mine. Can I go with you? I want to see if I can be a volunteer, too.”

I felt worse! “Angel, their teen program, you have to be 16.”

“But, you've been doing this since last year!”

“It's a requirement for my degree. So unfair! Your mom doesn't pressure people like mine does! She called Ms. Renault every single day until she agreed to let me go to 10th grade last Fall. I think she got one of her rich friends to call her. I'm the only 12-year old at Marietta High. I think I'm the only 12 year old volunteer at Kennestone, too. 'S not fair!” And, people pick on me or ignore me because I hang out with Hispanic and Black friends. Because I turn in people who persecute ‘em.

“It really isn't fair. Go, so you won't be late. I'll see you this afternoon!” I wanted to say more, she looked so sad.

I checked on Sylvania, because she was quiet in the carrier. She's fine. Beautiful blue eyes, and neat long, white fur from her daily brushing. Loved the feel of its softness, and so will everyone who holds her! Shouldered her backpack with the clear bubble again. Someone left it at the vet's when I worked there last summer and Dr Ashley said I could have it when I adopted her because they couldn’t figure out who left it. He's so nice! I hope he lets me do that again this summer.

I swapped out my roller blades for my tennis shoes and noticed, the wheels are getting thin. They aren't commuter blades. All these trips to Angel's are wearing them down. Doesn't help that I'm learning dance moves. Dad complained about how much these cost. I still fit the adjustable child-sized ones. He'll be mad when they break.

Then I got on the aqua bike—just the color I would've picked—and set out. Mr. Pedersen got this bike for Angel, Christmas before last, but she thought this smaller size would fit her for a year, and it didn't work out. She got taller. So, she gave it to me. Just right for me. So grateful for my friend and her family! Her dad bought her another one for Christmas. He was hoping for a table saw to help him finish the basement, so I might be able to live down there. I felt bad. If it really can happen. He keeps these cheap bikes in top shape. Puts better parts on ‘em.

I always got nervous riding on Whitlock Avenue. Traffic! But that prayer before I left helped me again. Got into the left turn lane and found a gap, because people had to wait for the light. Sometimes, rush hour is a good thing! The shopping center parking lot got hairy sometimes. But, the trip went faster today than last Monday. Lots of people are off for Martin Luther King Day. Most of the stores are closed.

It was nice to take Sylvania around to all the elderly folks. Pretended Mrs. March was my granny, somehow ported to the future from Little Women. She looked like me with her green eyes and round face. Her hair used to be red like mine instead of silver, she said. How she loves Sylvania! My cat loves everyone.

I can't take her in the Pedersens 'cause Angel's allergic. Toni leaves a lint roller on the porch so I can get all the cat hair off. It’s easy. Why does Mom think a little hair on the sofa’s hard? When I do my daily cleaning, I make sure to spend extra effort on that sofa. How does she see white cat hair on that white leather, anyway? Poor Sylvania spends all day in my room with her cat box. When Dad doesn’t let her out. He loves her. I keep my folding table at the window with a lap blanket on it. Mom threw out my butterfly one. This one’s plain brown.

Today I left on time so I could get back to Angel's. She was waiting, already on her bike. I decided to bike, too, so she wouldn't feel left out.

We headed to my house to drop off Sylvania. Traffic was lighter now. “Molly, they put me on probation in the Gifted Program.”

I had to wait for someone to back out of their driveway. “What? But, Angel, you're smart! I need to help you with earth science more—”

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“I've got an A in that. No, it's algebra that's killing me!”

“Just do more problems, like I did— ”

“I can't do more, because I can't get how to do any of 'em! Dad explains, and I just can't.” She got quiet. “Mom’s good with accounting and checkbook math, but not quadratic equations.”

We fought traffic and I had to pay attention. But, what to say? It's not easy for her. I have to remember that.

Finally, we pulled into the driveway and Dad's car was there. Uh oh. “Wait here— ”

Mom came out. “Where have you been? Playing, when you should be doing your homework?”

“Mom, today's a holiday. I just went to my volunteer job—”

“And, you took your friend and that animal with you?”

“Sylvania's my Pet Therapy animal. I showed you her certificate—”

“If your good little Mormon friend likes her so much, she can have her!”

“I can't!” Angel went all stiff, like she does every time Mom talks to her.

I got off the bike. “I need to put her in the house, Mom. I can't take her in Angel's house.”

“Fine. Put her in the garage, and get busy on your homework!”

I went in and she followed me to it. “You always goof off. I hadda pull a lot of strings to get you in the FasTrack Program, and I expect you to study. You wanted to grow up fast, and now you don't like it?”

Gently, I took Sylvania out and put her down. She looked around, then clung to my leg.

Mom ripped her off my jeans and shoved her away. “Get to your room, Girl, right now!”

“Mom, my homework's done. I can show you all of it.”

“All right, bring it up. I haven't got all day!”

I went to the Georgia State University login page and let her see. Every one of my seven classes had proof that I turned it in. As she looked, Sylvania slipped through the door. She'll hide in my room. Good. Then, I brought up my grades at Marietta High. My assignments. Mom sat on the sofa while I ran upstairs to get it.

Dad came out of the kitchen with a sandwich. “Molly, did you eat?” Like I can afford Sandwich Shop food? I see wrappers in the garbage when I throw it out. Can’t touch Mom’s crock pot meat. I have my stash in the garage refrigerator and ration it. No quick stuff in there.

“Angel gave me a snack, Dad.”

“That's nice. You going over there?”

Mom scowled at me.

“Fern, let her go. It's obvious she's done all her work. Can I see?”

I took it to him, and gave him my permission slip for the museum trip next month for art class. He signed without reading it. “High Museum Of Art? Nice.” He wrote out a check.

“Another field trip? We're not made of money, you know. Next one, we're not paying. Schools just want to bleed us dry! Last week it was chocolate. You didn't buy any, did you, Jeffrey?”

“No. We're both on a diet.” Like I need to be on one. I look anorexic. “But, I have enough calories left for a glass of milk.” He smoothed his blonde hair as he opened the fridge.

“Not that milk! I'm cooking this weekend.” Great. Ms. Pedersen always offers me a second glass when I eat supper with them. Hope I’m not running their grocery bill up.

I sighed. “See you later. I'm going to Angel's. She's waiting for me—”

“Don't stay long. You'll pick up their bad habits. How many wives does he have now, anyway?” Bad habits? Toni taught me to cook. And, how to budget before I got my first paycheck last summer. She took me to that second-hand store to get my study desk. Put up with Mom’s fussing that it didn’t match Aunt Mabel’s furniture. White goes with everything. Not a scratch on it and it still looks new after a year.

Knew better than to argue that they’d never be unfaithful to each other like my parents. I put my homework up and Sylvania was on the bed. With a kiss, I put her in her cat bed underneath and pulled the quilt down. Ran to my bike.

Angel was still waiting. We rode off, fast.

When I got home, the car was gone.

Tuesday went too fast. Lots of homework. I got it all done at Angel's, as usual. Tried again to help her with that algebra. She was inconsolable! We worried that someone brought a gun to our friend’s school this morning down in Atlanta. Brian Black. We both miss him. What if they don’t catch the next one? Belle Richardson’s down there, too, and I’m wondering, who moves mid-year? Tried to text her and her number’s not good now. Brian moved last summer and we knew long before that. Belle worries me, too. They moved in November and I forgot to call her over the holidays. So little time.