Katie

I was practicing the violin piece that I’d messed up at rehearsal, when Mum knocked on my door. I pretended not to hear her. Sometimes that works, but not this time: She knocked again.

I hoped it would be something easy, short. When I let her in, I kept holding my violin and bow. But Mum sat down, then patted the bed for me to sit next to her.

“I don’t know what took me so long to wonder this, Katie,” she said, looking right at me. “But WHY did you cheat?”

“I DIDN’T cheat!” I said. “I TOLD you that!”

Mum said, “Yes, I know, but you INTENDED to. You memorized your Animal Animal song. I just want to understand why.”

I shrugged. The truth was, I’d wondered the same thing. Sarah and I have always had secret alphabets and codes and clubs and crushes. And at first this cheat seemed like just another part of that. But telling Mum that I’d been doing it for FUN sounded so brainless.

And it was too pitiful to think (even in my own secret skull) that I was such a gutless wimp, I went along with the cheat plan just so Sarah wouldn’t think I was a gutless wimp. I wanted Sarah to see that I was willing to take risks. When in fact I wasn’t even willing to risk telling my best friend that I didn’t want to take risks!

And Sarah wouldn’t have thought less of me if I’d said no from the very start. She would’ve dropped the subject and not given it another thought. Right?

But that would have meant cutting myself out. I wouldn’t have been part of it, and Sarah would have shared THAT set of giggles with other kids. It’s humiliating to admit (even to myself) that I couldn’t stand the idea of being left out of anything with Sarah. Yeech! If I didn’t hate myself so badly, I’d pity me.

“No idea how you got into this?” Mum asked again. “None?”

She let that “None?” fester in the air between us awhile.

Then she asked what I’d decided to do about Rob’s parents, as far as telling them about this whole situation—in case they didn’t already know.

I HADN’T decided. I was getting a stomachache. I wanted to play violin.

Mum went on. “As a parent, I can tell you that if, God forbid, I were tearing my hair out over YOUR disappearance, I’d appreciate any information I could get my hands on.”

I sighed.

Mum sighed.

I told her I’d think about it. Then I got up and lifted my violin to my shoulder. She took the hint and left, closing my door behind her.

But I didn’t play.