"Nothin'. Hey, Matt?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm sorry your parents left you here alone. That's not very nice."Matt jabbed the fire with an iron poker. "No, it's not very nice, is it? And I'm sorry your dad left you alone. That's also not very nice."
"Thanks." Julie closed her eyes. She was exhausted.
"Tired, huh? Why don't you sleep for a while?"She heard Matt get up to draw the curtains and then felt him cover her with a wool blanket. Matt was so consistently inconsistent, she thought sleepily. He was always catching her, and wrapping her up, and then being evasive and annoying her, and then feeding her soup, and then snapping, and then talking about fonts and equations... It was hard to think anymore.
Julie yawned. "Did you call Dana?"
"Not yet. I will."The heat from the fire warmed her face.
"Thanks for getting me, Matty. I'm sorry," she mumbled.
"Of course. It's not a problem."Julie wasn't sure, but as the fatigue took over and pulled her into unconsciousness, she thought she felt a hand gently brush the hair from her face. And she thought she heard someone whisper lyrics about shelter, breaking worlds, changing times, pushing power, lack of water...But she was probably already dreaming. Because even though she could feel him, Finn wasn't here with her.
PART THREE
Chapter 24
Matthew Watkins was a prototype release only available to developers and had a very buggy pre-release cerebral subsystem. Also, no bladder controls.
Finn is God I hope that someday they invent a car that runs on inappropriate thoughts.
Julie Seagle thinks that when you comment on NPR's Facebook updates, you should use some semblance of grammar and punctuation. But maybe I'm just a bitch.
Julie carried glasses and a pitcher of lemonade outside, joining Roger, Matt, and Celeste on the front porch. "More hinges? Is Flatty auditioning for Cirque de Soleil?"
"It's quite possible that Flat Finn could now be folded up into a wallet." Roger said. He stood up and pointed at the new hinges that were shining brightly on Flat Finn's ankles. "I don't think there is room for anymore. We've done all the other joints. What do you think, Celeste?"Celeste was lounging in a wicker chair, her head tilted back and her eyes closed, as she took in the April sunshine. Slowly, she lifted up a bit and peered over. "You're right. This may be as many as he can handle. He is already rather accordion-like, isn't he?" She dropped her head back down.Roger looked at Julie and whispered. "I have the feeling someone isn't so invested in someone else anymore."
"I can hear you," Celeste said. "I am decidedly invested. Oh, the mail is here." She leapt from her seat and ran down the front steps.Roger stared at his daughter as she bounded away. "She looks so... old. Does she look old to you, Matthew?"Matt poured a glass of lemonade. "Yes. I'm fairly sure that I saw wrinkles on her sagging jowls. Also, she's been downing the Geritol. We should look into a nursing home for her."
"Matthew, relax. She looks good. I think her outfit is wretched, though." Roger frowned. "But I'm supposed to think that. Right, Julie?"Julie nodded. "Yes, you are. Fathers should hate what their teenage daughters are wearing."
"Mission accomplished," he said somewhat despairingly. "The too-short skirt and those dreadful earrings are your doing?"
"Guilty."Roger shook his head with acceptance and took a seat on the steps.Celeste returned with the mail, tossed it onto the small table, and plopped back onto the cushioned chair. "My Seventeen arrived. I don't care for the horoscopes or quizzes, or, truthfully, most of the articles, but I do enjoy the suggested fashion pieces."Julie sat down next to Celeste, so the two could debate shoe styles and prom updos. Celeste looked radiant and, for her, relaxed. Something had changed over the past few months. It was subtle, but Julie saw differences.Matt scowled as he rooted through the mail. "Are you two honestly concerned with that stuff?"Julie glared at him. "There's nothing wrong with it. It's not like coveting the perfect pair of strappy sandals negates our interest in political and social concerns, does it, Celeste?"
"Ooooh! Look at her hair!" Celeste pointed to a picture. "Do you think you could do that to mine? I find that very flattering. And, no, Matthew. I agree with Julie."
"You're smart," he said. "You don't need all that."
"Yes, I know. I'm the smart girl. My identity has been overtaken by that label, and perhaps I would like to be seen as something other than the smart girl."Julie smiled at Matt. "So there."Celeste looked up. "I apologize. I don't intend to be rude, Matty. But you are not a girl, and you do not understand the societal pressures that someone my age must contend with."
"Contractions," Julie reminded Celeste with a singsong tone."Oh, yes. Right. Sorry. Anyway, attractiveness is probably just a social construct, but succumbing to selected norms is not always a negative move. Julie, for instance, is a good example of someone who is both highly intelligent and socially skilled."
"Fine." Matt frowned at a pink envelope. He looked furtively at Celeste, who was now buried back in her magazine, and crossed the porch.Julie watched as he opened the envelope, scanned a card, and started to tuck it between pages of a store flyer."What's that?" Julie asked loudly."What? Nothing. Junk mail."
"No, it's not. What is that?" Julie got up and marched over to him. "You do not get letters in pink envelopes, so hand it over."
"Julie!" he hissed."Matt!" she hissed back.She snatched the card from his hands. The envelope was addressed to Celeste, and the card was an invitation to a birthday party, a sleepover the following weekend."Hey, Celeste! You got invited to a party. For Rachel. Is she in your class?"
"Julie!" Matt grabbed the card back. "Don't!"Celeste let the magazine fall into her lap. "I did? She invited me?"
"She did?" Roger turned around and looked at his daughter."Yes, she did. Everyone can stop acting so ridiculously flabbergasted. Here." Again, Julie swiped the card from Matt and handed it to Celeste.Celeste looked intently at the invitation, her mouth beginning to form a wistful smile. But then she set it down on the table. "That was incredibly generous of Rachel to invite me. She's been awfully nice to me. I can't go, of course."