And You Can't Tell Anyone, chapter 28
*Wren*
Get away. Go away. I need out! Not here. Please leave. Involuntarily, Wren glanced out the window. Mike had disappeared. Simultaneously, she was relieved and filled with despair. No chance for disaster and no chance for rescue. Nervously, she turned her attention back to her parents. As her father shut the door, Wren curled her fingers into the ledge of the window. Best to let them know where I stand from the get-go.
The words strained their way out between her clenched teeth. "I'm not going back there. Ever."
Her mother let out a little sigh and brushed a strand of black hair out of her eyes. "Wren, we sent you to that school to help you. I know you didn't like it, but it was for your own good."
"How is doping me up so I can't think straight possibly good for me Mother? It was good for the boys, since I didn't have enough sense left to say no. Of course, then I was so drugged up I couldn't have possibly been telling the truth, right Father?" Wren snarled sarcastically.
"How many--" her father started to argue, then shook his head. "Nevermind. We're not here to talk about that."
"I don't want to talk period."
"Well," A frown marred Father's brow, "We do. Actually, I forgot my keys in the car. Your mother can start while I go get them."
That's the weakest excuse I've ever heard. What's he up to? Wren watched balefully as her father exited. She kept her eyes riveted to the door as Mother began speaking.
"So, um, I hear you've got a new place to stay. With that Armstrong boy you were friends with back in seventh grade?"
"His name is Billie Joe," Wren growled. 'That boy'? He's more of a family than you! "And yes, I'm living with him."
"All by yourselves then?" Mother seemed politely interested, almost too politely.
"No. There are our two friends that live with us." Wren wished she was a million miles away. If I could just make her go! "What's it to you? Does it bug you that I'm living with three boys?"
"Don't take that tone with me. I'm your mother; I do think it's been proven that I have a right to be concerned." With a lift of her head, Wren's mother narrowed her eyes.
"Proven? What have I ever really done for you to go psycho on me? I don't need you around here."
"In your current condition," Mother began, but Wren cut her off.
"Condition? You're talking like I've got a disease." She put on a mock thoughtful look, "Maybe I am the disease. Infecting your little plans and screwing up your nice little life?"
"Wren," Mother sighed, "Don't do this. If you want to be hostile, fine. I'm letting you know that we are aware of..." she gestured vaguely with her hands, "relationships within your house and the effect of them."
"They're a bad influence, is that what you're saying? Well, they must be pretty terrible since I'm, you know," she rolled her eyes, "higher than a kite right now, drunk out of my mind and failing all my classes. I don't think I need to tell someone of your breeding and intelligence that I'm being sarcastic."
"Sometimes I wish it was drugs you were on. At least with rehab you don't have to deal with consequences that will stare you in the face every day of your life."
"Are you saying that my staying with the guys is going to 'scar me for life'?" Wren could not believe her mother's shallowness. "You know what? Out of all the stuff that's happened to me, meeting them is probably one of the better things. My friends, they wouldn't do anything to hurt me on purpose."
"I can agree." Wren was thrown off by the odd comment. Little warning bells started ringing in her mind. She shifted her eyes to Mother as she went on. "You obviously have one that cares for you, since she called us."
She? That bitch! I'm going to kill her. End of story. I will murder her beyond dead. Deadly calm, Wren asked, "Who was this 'she' and what did she tell you?" Sardonically, she noted, Sure is taking Father-Dearest a long time to go get the keys. He probably wants to miss out on this little chat.
"Your friend Mirabelle." Wren's mother said simplistically.
"Friend?" Wren let out a laugh that was a dry bark of derision. "Mother, that broad who phoned you is like the anti-friend. She was put on this Earth to bring hatred and annoyance to people who would otherwise have none."
"Then are you denying what she told me?"
"I can't really deny if I don't know what she said." Despite her acidic words, Wren had a fairly good idea.
"She told me that you were living in a house with three boys. That, you've confirmed. I was also informed that you were seeing one of them as well."
Oh goody. Here we go. Damn you Mirabelle!
Mother composed herself and continued. "Mirabelle told me that your boyfriend got you pregnant. She said you told her. Is it true?"
Defiantly, Wren shot. "Every word. For the record, I didn't really tell her, she nosed around and found out."
Mother closed her eyes and slowly shook her head. Yes, the wonderful daughter has screwed up again. I guess I should feel terrible or something. Too bad. I don't.
"Then I think you need this." Mother dug in her purse and pulled out a strip of paper. Disdainfully, Wren just looked at it. "It's a plane ticket," Mother explained.
"Why on would I need a plane ticket when I'm staying right here?"
"Wren, think about this. How are you going to support yourselves? Do you think that working at some gas station will pay the bills? What does he do anyway? I knew Billie Joe was trouble since the day you brought him home to play in the yard."
"Billie Joe is not trouble. He's like a brother, and he's not who I'm with. We'll get through it. The guys are really talented; they'll make it somewhere some day. That's the difference between us, Mother. When I love someone, I believe in them, no matter what choices they make." Wren could feel tears burning on the edge of her eyes.
"I'm asking you to make the right choice," Mother reached out and pressed the ticket into Wren's hand. "The plane leaves on the thirty first. Your father and I can't leave the country without you until you're eighteen on the first of November. If you take the plane with us, we'll go straight--non-stop--to England. If not, your father and I will lay over in New York and then leave."
"You're moving?"
"Yes. We decided it was time for a change of scenery." Mother rose, "I hope to see you on Friday. If not, I do love you Wren. It's not in me to stop, we're family. Remember that when you make your choice." Without further adieu, she left.
Get away. Go away. I need out! Not here. Please leave. Involuntarily, Wren glanced out the window. Mike had disappeared. Simultaneously, she was relieved and filled with despair. No chance for disaster and no chance for rescue. Nervously, she turned her attention back to her parents. As her father shut the door, Wren curled her fingers into the ledge of the window. Best to let them know where I stand from the get-go.
The words strained their way out between her clenched teeth. "I'm not going back there. Ever."
Her mother let out a little sigh and brushed a strand of black hair out of her eyes. "Wren, we sent you to that school to help you. I know you didn't like it, but it was for your own good."
"How is doping me up so I can't think straight possibly good for me Mother? It was good for the boys, since I didn't have enough sense left to say no. Of course, then I was so drugged up I couldn't have possibly been telling the truth, right Father?" Wren snarled sarcastically.
"How many--" her father started to argue, then shook his head. "Nevermind. We're not here to talk about that."
"I don't want to talk period."
"Well," A frown marred Father's brow, "We do. Actually, I forgot my keys in the car. Your mother can start while I go get them."
That's the weakest excuse I've ever heard. What's he up to? Wren watched balefully as her father exited. She kept her eyes riveted to the door as Mother began speaking.
"So, um, I hear you've got a new place to stay. With that Armstrong boy you were friends with back in seventh grade?"
"His name is Billie Joe," Wren growled. 'That boy'? He's more of a family than you! "And yes, I'm living with him."
"All by yourselves then?" Mother seemed politely interested, almost too politely.
"No. There are our two friends that live with us." Wren wished she was a million miles away. If I could just make her go! "What's it to you? Does it bug you that I'm living with three boys?"
"Don't take that tone with me. I'm your mother; I do think it's been proven that I have a right to be concerned." With a lift of her head, Wren's mother narrowed her eyes.
"Proven? What have I ever really done for you to go psycho on me? I don't need you around here."
"In your current condition," Mother began, but Wren cut her off.
"Condition? You're talking like I've got a disease." She put on a mock thoughtful look, "Maybe I am the disease. Infecting your little plans and screwing up your nice little life?"
"Wren," Mother sighed, "Don't do this. If you want to be hostile, fine. I'm letting you know that we are aware of..." she gestured vaguely with her hands, "relationships within your house and the effect of them."
"They're a bad influence, is that what you're saying? Well, they must be pretty terrible since I'm, you know," she rolled her eyes, "higher than a kite right now, drunk out of my mind and failing all my classes. I don't think I need to tell someone of your breeding and intelligence that I'm being sarcastic."
"Sometimes I wish it was drugs you were on. At least with rehab you don't have to deal with consequences that will stare you in the face every day of your life."
"Are you saying that my staying with the guys is going to 'scar me for life'?" Wren could not believe her mother's shallowness. "You know what? Out of all the stuff that's happened to me, meeting them is probably one of the better things. My friends, they wouldn't do anything to hurt me on purpose."
"I can agree." Wren was thrown off by the odd comment. Little warning bells started ringing in her mind. She shifted her eyes to Mother as she went on. "You obviously have one that cares for you, since she called us."
She? That bitch! I'm going to kill her. End of story. I will murder her beyond dead. Deadly calm, Wren asked, "Who was this 'she' and what did she tell you?" Sardonically, she noted, Sure is taking Father-Dearest a long time to go get the keys. He probably wants to miss out on this little chat.
"Your friend Mirabelle." Wren's mother said simplistically.
"Friend?" Wren let out a laugh that was a dry bark of derision. "Mother, that broad who phoned you is like the anti-friend. She was put on this Earth to bring hatred and annoyance to people who would otherwise have none."
"Then are you denying what she told me?"
"I can't really deny if I don't know what she said." Despite her acidic words, Wren had a fairly good idea.
"She told me that you were living in a house with three boys. That, you've confirmed. I was also informed that you were seeing one of them as well."
Oh goody. Here we go. Damn you Mirabelle!
Mother composed herself and continued. "Mirabelle told me that your boyfriend got you pregnant. She said you told her. Is it true?"
Defiantly, Wren shot. "Every word. For the record, I didn't really tell her, she nosed around and found out."
Mother closed her eyes and slowly shook her head. Yes, the wonderful daughter has screwed up again. I guess I should feel terrible or something. Too bad. I don't.
"Then I think you need this." Mother dug in her purse and pulled out a strip of paper. Disdainfully, Wren just looked at it. "It's a plane ticket," Mother explained.
"Why on would I need a plane ticket when I'm staying right here?"
"Wren, think about this. How are you going to support yourselves? Do you think that working at some gas station will pay the bills? What does he do anyway? I knew Billie Joe was trouble since the day you brought him home to play in the yard."
"Billie Joe is not trouble. He's like a brother, and he's not who I'm with. We'll get through it. The guys are really talented; they'll make it somewhere some day. That's the difference between us, Mother. When I love someone, I believe in them, no matter what choices they make." Wren could feel tears burning on the edge of her eyes.
"I'm asking you to make the right choice," Mother reached out and pressed the ticket into Wren's hand. "The plane leaves on the thirty first. Your father and I can't leave the country without you until you're eighteen on the first of November. If you take the plane with us, we'll go straight--non-stop--to England. If not, your father and I will lay over in New York and then leave."
"You're moving?"
"Yes. We decided it was time for a change of scenery." Mother rose, "I hope to see you on Friday. If not, I do love you Wren. It's not in me to stop, we're family. Remember that when you make your choice." Without further adieu, she left.
