In the front hall, I dropped my book bag and yanked off my hoodie. There was blood all over the sleeve, and I debated just throwing it away, but I figured my dad would have something to say about that.
The laundry room was in a little alcove off the hall. I didn’t like to go in there. The washer and dryer were both stainless steel and the room was so small that the air always had a dense, poisonous smell to it. For a minute, I considered running the washer anyway, but even just standing with the door open was making my pulse hammer in my ears. I wadded up the hoodie and made a mental note to ask Emma if she’d wash it for me. In scalding water. With bleach. Then I shoved it in the hamper and headed for the kitchen.
From the back of the house, I could hear the clack of the keyboard. My mom was in the office, tapping away at her computer.
“Mackie,” she called, “is that you?”
“Yeah.”
“Don’t let your father catch you skipping class, okay?”
“Yeah, okay.”
I got a glass of water and sat at the table, looking at the tablecloth and trying to figure out the plaid pattern. It went red, black, red, white, green, and then I lost track.
When Emma came in, I was so out of it that her hand on my shoulder made me jump. I started to ask about the laundry but stopped when I realized there was someone else with her. The second girl was tall and serious looking, with a long, bony face.
Emma got a jar of peanut butter from the pantry and took out a plastic picnic knife.
“Hey, ugly,” she said, reaching to tousle my hair. “You’re home early.” She glanced across the hall at the office door, then said so quietly she was almost mouthing it, “Are you feeling okay?”
I wiggled my hand in a so-so gesture. “Aren’t you supposed to be in botany?”
Emma was nineteen and not the kind of person who skipped class. She was taking every science course the junior college offered and her dedication was kind of scary.
“Professor Cranston gave us outside time to work on our group project.” She waved her plastic knife at the other girl. “That’s Janice.”
Janice sat down across from me and folded her hands on the table. “Hi,” she said. Her hair was muddy brown and hung in wild snarls on either side of her face.
I nodded at her but didn’t say anything.
