“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” Grandma said. “This is why we have kids like Naomi Quinn running wild—no discipline. No responsibilities.”
“It’s not about that, Mom. Drea doesn’t process sound normally.”
I tossed the paper on the table and left the kitchen, heading right for the basement. They’d had this discussion at least six times since we moved in. Being spoiled versus having a disorder. I didn’t like either argument. What was so wrong with just being me? Disliking vacuum noise wasn’t any more bizarre than hating pickles or roller coasters.
I speed-dialed Naomi’s number on my cell and counted the seconds until I heard her voice. She’d make some joke about Grandma or tease me about Justin. But she never tried to fix me.
“Hello?” Naomi’s voice was hoarse and muffled.
“Hey, you should come over now.”
“Huh?” There was a loud rustling sound. “God, Drea. It’s nine a.m. Call me later.”
“I thought you wanted to hang out today.”
She cursed and sighed into the phone. “Yeah, later. I’ve been asleep for, like, three hours.” With that her breathing was cut off.
“Hello?” I glanced at my phone. Call ended, it read. I’d messed up again.
“Drea, honey?” Mom’s slippers padded down the stairs.
“What?”
She walked over to my bed and sat down with that squinty look in her brown eyes. Usually it meant we were moving again, or she’d lost her job. “Grandma’s not bending on this one.” She handed me the yellow slip of paper.
Chores to be done every morning:
Make your bed.
Clean up any mess you’ve made in the bathroom getting ready. That includes putting your dirty clothes in the hamper.
Unload the dishwasher. Then reload it with any dirty dishes before you leave.
This was followed by a page-long description of how to vacuum.
“Fine, I’ll do that other stuff, but I’m not vacuuming.”
Mom put her hand over mine. “Maybe you can wear some headphones—turn the music up real loud. I’ve got some ear plugs you can use.”
“Just tell her I’m not doing it.”
She rubbed her temples, exhaling sharply. “We need to keep the peace until I can afford a deposit on an apartment, okay?”
I nodded, knowing what she’d say next. Same old story. Compromise or live in her car.
Mom reached down and squeezed my hand. “You deserve better, baby.” Her voice was strained and muffled.
“Quit saying that.”
“I just wish I could give you more. The depression hit me bad in San Francisco. I couldn’t pull out of it. And I really am sorry.”
“I know.” I twisted my green quilt around my finger until it went numb.
She wiped her eyes. “I got that job at the law firm. Start Monday. We’ll be out of here soon. And I promise that we’ll stay put for a while. Do you want to finish high school here?”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
Mom cupped my face with both hands, forcing me to look into her watery eyes. “I promise I’m going to do everything I can to keep us here. The paralegal there is retiring soon, and she offered to train me. That would be a really good thing for us.”
“Do you even want to be a paralegal?”
She dropped her hands and shook her head. “It’s a lot better than any other options I’ve had in the past. And the pay isn’t bad. Enough to live on our own—just you and me.” Mom sighed and tousled my hair. “I’m going in the shower. Let me know if you need any help.”
I could handle the vacuum noise for about five seconds before I had to shut it off. Even with sound-canceling headphones blaring my favorite songs, the squeal cut through, making me feel like I was being zapped from the inside. My skin itched, and I feared that the bulging bag would explode. I sat on the couch and hugged myself.
“Doesn’t sound like you’re making much progress out there!” Grandma called from the kitchen. She had a mini TV with antennas on the kitchen counter. The buzzing from the crappy signal filtered throughout the house.
I pulled my phone from my pocket and thought about calling Naomi. But she’d already hung up on me once. Justin’s name stared back at me from my address book. The letters alone made my stomach flutter. We’d exchanged numbers a couple days ago, but he’d yet to call me. Would it be weird if I called him?
I pressed dial and squeezed my eyes shut.
“Hello?” he answered.
I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
“Drea?”
“Um, hi!”
“What’s up?” His voice sounded deeper on the phone.
“I have to vacuum.”
“That’s… nice?”
“Does your family ever drive you insane?”
“All the time.”
“Andrea, I still don’t hear that vacuum!”
He laughed softly. “I dig your grandma.”
“Why? I want to buy her a muzzle.”
“I like how she just doesn’t care. But I can see how she’d drive you nuts.”
“You’ve never met her.”
“What can I say? The comment about garbage on the walls at the café won me over.”
Silence. He was probably wondering why I called him.
“You and Naomi still doing that movie night thing tonight?”
“I think so. She’s asleep.” Ask questions, Drea. “Are you doing anything after work?”
“Why?” His voice got softer. “You asking me out?”
My heart jumped in my chest. “Like on a date? No, I wouldn’t do that. I mean—I’ve done that, but I wasn’t asking you. Um…” It was official. I sucked at the phone thing.
“So let me clarify. That’s a no, right?”
“No. I mean—yes. Yes, that’s right.”
He chuckled again. “I’ve never met anyone like you.”
I swallowed hard. “Is that bad?”
“No and—yes.”
“Um…”
“No, because I really like that about you. And yes. For the same reason.”
“Huh?”
He sighed into the phone. “Nothing. It’s not bad, Drea.”
Grandma appeared in the living room, hands on her bony hips. “Mobile phones don’t vacuum living rooms. Get off right now.”
“Sounds like you should go,” he said. “I’ll talk to you later.”
“Okay, bye.” I flipped the phone shut and looked at Grandma. “I can use this phone when I want to—it’s mine.”
“And that’s a big part of your problem. You’re used to getting your way all the time.”
“If that was the case, we wouldn’t be living with you.”
Grandma’s mouth dropped open, but Mom walked in before she could speak. “She didn’t mean it. Right, Drea?”
“She needs a good paddle on the behind,” Grandma said.
“Give me that phone,” Mom said, holding her hand out to me.
“What? No.” I hid it behind my back.
“I said give it to me!” Her voice made me jump. She rarely yelled like that.
I slowly held the phone out to her, avoiding her dark eyes.
Mom ripped the cell from my hands. “You’ll get it back when you finish your chores. And only then.” I opened my mouth to protest, but she cut me off. “Apologize to Grandma.”
“For what? She interrupted my phone conversation.”
“Say you’re sorry, or Naomi can’t come over later.”
What was the point of that? It wasn’t like I’d mean it. “But I’m not sorry.”
Grandma shook her head. “You should make her stay in her room for the rest of the weekend. And unplug her computer too.”
“Mother, please. Just let me handle this, okay?”
“I’m not going to tolerate this in my house, Juliana.” Grandma retreated into the kitchen, turning up whatever news program she had on.
Mom walked over and knelt in front of me. “Drea, please,” she whispered. “Stop pushing her.”