IVY ROE:
After. Chaos and I sat on the tile, shoveling rice into our mouths.
Was Andi still awake? Thinking about Elise’s broken promise? I wondered if Elise was awake, too, feeling guilty.
Chaos muttered, “So much for eating dinner all together.”
I tried to catch her eye, but she was too focused on eating her rice.
When I finished with my bowl, I reached over and grabbed Elise’s. Chaos grabbed Andi’s.
“She’s in the Corps.” Chaos chewed on her rice. “And no one can stop her.”
She almost sounded proud.
“You think it’s worth it?” I asked her.
She nodded. Then immediately shook her head. “I don’t know.”
“If only,” I began, “she could get those files. We’d get them back, and she wouldn’t have to leave.”
Chaos gave me a look. “What are you doing?”
I pushed up my glasses and forced myself to meet her gaze. Could she tell? That the gears in my mind were spinning, slowly planning something dangerous?
“I’m thinking,” I told her.
Her eyes narrowed. “You think you can get the files.”
“I think,” I said very slowly, “maybe we could get the files.”
For some reason, that made her smile. “You better shush before Andi hears us.”
What did Andi say? About Chaos being reckless? Getting someone killed? I thought: I’m sorry, Andi.
I pressed my lips together. Nodded.
Chaos stood up, and rummaged around for paper, a pencil.
My empty bowl. The fork on top. The tile, cold on my legs. I tried to tamp down my thoughts. No. There was no way we could fix this. Right?
“We’re just kids.” Chaos handed me the pencil. “They’d underestimate us.”
“They won’t even put us in jail.” I tried to take a deep breath. “Anyone under sixteen.”
Chaos whispered, “Really?”
“They’ll fine you,” I told her.
Her eyes were wide. Mouth partially open. “What do we need to do?” She added, “Hypothetically, of course.”
I stacked the paper on the tile. “It needs to be during lunch. When everyone’s going in and out.”
I sounded like I knew what I was doing. I sounded like Andi.
She nodded. “We need to convince Joseph to drive us there.”
“Easy. Elise forgot something.”
Chaos smiled. “You’re kinda good at this.” Then her face fell. “The files. They’ll be locked away. We need a key.”
I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. “Yeah, maybe we shouldn’t do this.”
“This is important.” She grabbed both of my hands. “Mom and Dad.”
I nodded. Tried to picture their faces, but my memory was blurry. Two years, and all I had were photographs, a shadow of a smile.
“Now tell me,” she whispered, “how do we get into a locked door?”
Think. Hair pins. Paper clips. “It’s just physics,” I said aloud. Dug in my pocket and pulled out a hair pin. Stood up and found a paper clip on the counter. “Two pieces.” I sat back down and held the hair pin close to her face. “Tension the barrel with this one.” I pressed the metal against the tile to bend it into a hook. Bent the other one into an L-shape. “Lift the pins with this one.”
Indents on my fingers.
“Insane.” The candlelight danced in Chaos’s eyes. “This could work.”
“I’d have to practice first,” I told her. “A lot.”
I put my pencil to paper, my letters small and cramped. Andi would hate us for this, wouldn’t he?
Bullet points, a rough map, backup plans. We’d use the duffle bag. My bent hair pins and paperclips. The red push button.
If we pulled this off, maybe Andi would understand. Even be proud.
Maybe.
I whispered, “How do we leave without Andi finding out?”
Chaos chewed on her bottom lip. “I don’t know. If there’s ever an opportunity, we’ll go.”
Something in my stomach twisted. “If he finds out…” I couldn’t even say the rest.
“He won’t.” She sounded so sure.
“He always does though,” I said, “Are you just planning? Or are we actually gonna do this?”
“Do you want Mom and Dad back?”
I nodded. Stood up and dumped water on our dirty bowls. Tried not to think about what could go wrong. For us. For Elise.
“We have to act normal.” I told her, “They can’t find out.”
She crossed her arms. Grinned. “Oh, I can act normal. You? I don’t know about you.”
I smiled. A little. “Please. You’re the least normal of all of us.”
She blew out the row of candles. Smoke in my nose. I reached for Chaos’s arm, and we crept upstairs.
63Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7nIStD3E2S
Stripes of moonlight on the ceiling, seeping through the blinds. Chaos’s slow, heavy breaths. My notes on my nightstand. I turned to the side, adjusted my pillow, and reached out to grab the papers.
Chaos was right, this was important. But sneaking out? Risking so much? There had to be a different way.
My hands on opposite sides of the papers. I almost ripped them, I swear I almost did. But my hands wouldn’t pull hard enough. I inhaled as much as I could and held it for a long time.
A memory: Church. Our family squeezed into one pew, hips pressed to hips. Dad leaned over and whispered in my ear, “It doesn’t get much better than this.”
I closed my eyes.
Set the notes back on my nightstand. Pulled the covers over my head.
63Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrGwUKbeYnt
and then Add to home screen.