I frowned. “If you’re sick, it’s okay to tell me. I could bring a doctor.”
“I’m not sick.”
“How come you haven’t been going to school?”
Marie shoved the blankets off of her and sat up. Her long brown hair fell against the blue T-shirt she wore. She looked a little pale, but otherwise she seemed fine.
Her dark eyes zeroed in on my face. “Will you get out?”
“The principal talked to me today. He’s noticed that you aren’t showing up for class.”
Marie flinched. “What?”
“He’d like to talk to you tomorrow, if you’re going to school. You’re not in trouble. He’s just worried.”
“Does he know?” she asked. She relaxed again, falling on her back and staring up at the ceiling. “Does he know about dad?”
Was that what she was worried about? That other people will know? “No. No one knows at school. Not unless you mention it. I don’t think we should.”
She sighed. “It doesn’t matter.” She rolled over, facing the wall.
“If you don’t go to school soon, the school will have to call Social Services. They’ll send someone, perhaps even the police.”
Marie didn’t answer me.
“Try to show up tomorrow,” I said softly, doing my best to sound concerned. “We’ll be okay, I think, as long as we do what we’re supposed to.”
“Go away.”
I closed her door. Maybe this was what Mr. Blackbourne meant when he said I should just remind her, but let her make her own decision. I made a mental note to myself to try to wake her tomorrow for school, and perhaps talk to her later. I didn’t understand how she could stand still. Was she depressed? I knew she wasn’t happy, she couldn’t be if she’s been hiding like this. I wasn’t sure how to bring her out of it if she was sad.
I floated downstairs while still stuck inside my head, wondering about the best way to help. I’d had Kota and the others to help me. Maybe she needed someone, too. I knew she wasn’t fond of the guys. Maybe Danielle would if she knew?
Maybe that’s what she needed. Maybe she just needed to know that someone else out there still cares for her, too. She didn’t trust me or didn’t want to, for whatever reason. I couldn’t imagine how alone she must be feeling right now.
Downstairs, Luke was sprawled out on the family room floor in front of the television. Nathan was on one end of the couch, fiddling with the remote and surfing channels. Kota was on the other end of the couch, shifting through the mail, opening up bills and organizing.
Luke sat up when I came into the room. “How’d it go?”
“Terrible,” I said. I dropped to my knees, and fell sideways until I was against the carpet, glancing over at them. “I think she’s depressed.”
“Her mother is in the hospital,” Kota said without looking up from a piece of mail. “And her father’s disappeared to live with another family. I can sympathize. She still needs to get up and go to school.”
“I think she needs a friend,” I said.
Kota put the bill down, looking at me on the floor. “Did you ask her to go to school? Did you try to talk to her?”
“Yes, but I don’t think she likes me.”
“Do you want me to talk to her?”
Luke laughed. “That’s not going to work.”
Kota’s head ducked back. “Why won’t it?”
“She doesn't like us, either,” Nathan said, stopping on a music channel but hitting the volume down so we could talk. He put the remote in his lap. “She probably doesn’t trust us. I mean, she’s right to do that. She doesn’t know us and we’ve been kind of invading her space.”
I sighed, rolling onto my back and staring up at the ceiling. “I was wondering if we should talk to Danielle.”
“Nope,” Nathan said quickly. “Not happening.”
I turned my head to look at him. “But Marie likes her. Maybe Danielle could motivate her into getting up.”
Nathan scooted closer to the edge of the couch, putting his elbows on his knees to lean forward as he gazed down at me on the floor. “Peanut, you’re talking about letting a fox into the hen house. I’m guessing Danielle doesn’t know what happened here, or she’d be here already trying to take advantage of the situation.”
“But Marie thinks she’s all alone right now.”
Nathan’s lips parted to say something but he stopped, frowning. “I don’t know what to do,” he said. He turned to Kota. “There’s got to be a better way.”
I let out a large sigh, stretching on the carpet. “I don’t suppose the Academy has friends for her.”
Nathan and Luke laughed. Kota’s lips broke into a sympathetic smile. He pushed aside the bills onto the couch cushion, and slid down onto the floor on his knees. He knee-walked over until he sprawled out on his side next to me, his head propped up in his hand. “Sang?”
“Yes, Kota.”
“Would you feel better if you knew Marie wasn’t as depressed as you thought?”
I propped myself up on my elbows. “She seemed depressed.”
“Since your parents left, she’s been staying up all night on the computer downstairs and watching movies she bought off of cable.”
My mouth popped open. “What?”
“Check the internet history.”
I rarely touched the computer downstairs. It belonged to our father, and he’d told us since we were young not to touch it because it had important work files. I’d grown accustomed to thinking of it as his work computer. My eyes widened and I tilted my head. “Do I want to see what she’s been up to?”
“Probably not.”
I blushed. “You knew?”
“I didn’t know she was staying home,” he said. “But I’ve borrowed the computer a couple of times and noticed video games and music downloaded and I knew it wasn’t you.”
I wondered if I should have felt weird about Kota going on my dad’s computer. I think the only reason it felt like that was because to me it still seemed like the forbidden zone. It was too hard to get used to. My dad was gone to another life. Nothing h
ere was his.
“I sometimes see her in the hallways at school,” Nathan said, sitting back on the sofa. “I thought she was avoiding me this week. I didn’t realize she wasn’t there.”
Luke scooted closer on the floor. “She knows she’s been noticed, now. So it’s up to her to get up and go.”
Nathan nodded. “At least we won’t have to tell Danielle.”
“That might still be a problem,” Luke said. “Marie could still tell her.”
“We’ll worry about it when we get there,” Kota said.
Luke fell back onto the carpet again, gazing up at the ceiling. “Well, we’ve got other things to do. Like grocery shopping.”
I blinked. “Huh?”
“You’re out of food, cupcake,” he said. “I think there’s a moldy loaf of bread left.”
At the mention of food, my stomach growled. I hadn’t eaten breakfast or lunch. “I forgot to call my dad,” I said.
“Call him now,” Kota said.
I grumbled a little, getting up. “I don’t wanna,” I said, trying to be funny.
“Call,” Kota said.
“I am,” I said, stumbling toward the kitchen. “I just want to complain about it.”
I heard the guys chuckling. I found the phone number on the counter. I started to pull out my cell phone but stopped. I wondered if he would answer if he didn’t recognize the phone number. Did I want him to know this number?
I picked up the house phone, hitting the button and waited for a dial tone.
And waited.
I blinked, hung up, check the phone line. The phone was plugged in. I wriggled the wires and tried it again.
Dead line.
“Kota?” I called.
Kota carried the stack of bills from the living room. “Sang?”
I held the phone out to him. “The landline is down.”
His eyebrows shot up. He crossed the room, taking the phone from me. He listened to it, and then did the same song and dance I did checking the line. “Is there another phone?”
“Just the one in my mom’s room.”
He took the cordless with him, following the hallway to my parents’ bedroom. I trailed behind him, and hovered in the doorway. The air was still. I didn’t like the feeling of the bedroom.