36
WHAT YOU DON’T KNOW CAN HURT YOU
Jordan intended to float through the year,
serving out the last of her childhood sentence in Austin by
dreaming of the future and talking to all her new friends on Skype.
Then, in just one short year—so soon she could almost taste it—she
was going to art school.
There was just one hitch. The schools
she and her friends from San Francisco talked about applying to
wanted you to have decent grades; some even required three years of
math. What math had to do with being an artist was a puzzle. But
the upshot was, she had about four months to show college
admissions offices that she wasn’t a complete academic write-off.
She was going to have to study very hard . . . and take Algebra II
all over again. The worst part was, because she had screwed up last
year, now her algebra class had Lily in it.
As she trudged home from school, she
came to the painful conclusion that Lily might be her last best
hope. It hurt, but she was going to have to suck it up and ask for
help. Throw herself on her little sister’s mercy.
“Hi!”
Jordan looked up and immediately wished
she’d had her iPod so she could have pretended not to hear. Grace
was waving at her, although God only knew why. The woman was
juggling about twenty little bubble-wrapped mailers, carrying them
to her car.
“Oh. Hey.” Jordan inflected her voice
with as little enthusiasm as humanly possible.
Grace dumped the mailers on the hood of
her car. One dropped to the ground and she rolled her eyes before
stooping to pick it up. “I should really have stuck these in a
bag.”
“Yeah.” Duh.
“I think I have one in my car,” Grace
continued, as if she thought Jordan might actually want to have a
conversation. “That’s the worst part about what I do—I live at the
post office.”
Jordan frowned. “What do you
do?”
Grace looked surprised that she didn’t
know. “I sell CDs online. Rigolettosmusic.com.”
“Oh.” Maybe Dominic had mentioned that
before. She hadn’t really paid attention.
“Classical mostly.”
It figured.
Except . . .
One of her teachers from the summer had
told them about Einstein on the Beach.
“I’ve been listening to Philip Glass,” Jordan said. It wasn’t a
total lie. She’d been thinking about listening to him, at least.
“He’s very intense.”
Grace laughed. “Intensely headache
inducing.”
Every molecule in Jordan’s body seized
up. What a ’rhoid. “Yeah, well, I just happen to think Philip Glass
is a genius, but then, I’m not an expert or anything,” she said in
disgust. “I don’t run an online music
store.”
“I didn’t mean to—” Grace shook her
head as if it wasn’t even worth her time to argue with Jordan. “How
was your summer?”
She had a lot of crust asking. The last
words Jordan remembered Grace saying were She
doesn’t deserve . . . As in, Jordan doesn’t
deserve to go to California this summer. “It was great. No
thanks to you.”
She turned sharply and walked away,
enjoying her last glimpse of the woman’s stupefied
expression.
When she opened the door to the house,
she heard the unmistakable rattle and clatter of dice being thrown
against cardboard and peeked into the dining room to investigate.
Lily and Dominic were playing Yahtzee.
“Afterschool family fun time?” Jordan
asked, wandering over.
Lily glanced up. Sometimes Jordan
couldn’t believe she was looking at her little sister. She’d never
imagined summer in Little Salty could be a transformative
experience for the better, but here was living proof. Lily had
ditched the glasses and the ponytails and now looked less like
Poindexter girl.
She’d expected her sister to say
something snarky to her, but instead Lily turned her attention back
to the board and advised Dominic, “I’d take my twos if I were
you.”
Elbows on the table and his chin
propped on his fists, Dominic muttered, “I really need a full house,” before
relenting.
During the next play, Jordan drifted
closer to the table and finally slipped into a seat. “Who’s
winning?”
“Guess,” Dominic grumbled.
“You can still catch up,” Lily said.
“It’s just luck.” She rolled. “Oh, excellent! Four of a kind—with
sixes!”
Dominic moaned.
“Hey Lils . . . are you going to do
your homework tonight?” Jordan asked.
“I always do my homework.”
Jordan watched them play another turn
and then cleared her throat. “I was wondering if I could study with
you.”
“Tonight?” Lily asked.
“Every night, actually.”
Lily’s eyes widened. “You must be
really desperate to get a good
grade!”
“I am,” Jordan said. “That is . . .
well, you know. I have to get into a decent college. It might
already be too late, but if I at least show I’m trying . . . and
write a really good essay . . . maybe . . .”
Lily deliberated for a moment.
“Okay.”
A few seconds passed before Jordan
would allow herself to believe her ears. Lily had agreed? Just like
that? No arguing, no negotiating?
Apparently so.
She exhaled in relief. “Good. With you
helping, I at least have a prayer.”
“You’d have a prayer anyway, if you
would just concentrate.”
“But that’s it—it’s hard to concentrate
on numbers and symbols. They don’t seem real.”
“Not real?”
Lily looked almost offended. “What’s more real than
numbers?”
“Speaking of real numbers,” Dominic
said, butting in, “will you roll already?”
Lily picked up the dice and rolled, but
she was still shaking her head.
“Why does everybody get all snarky
whenever I express an opinion?” Jordan asked.
“I didn’t get all
snarky,” Lily said.
“Who else got all snarky?” Dominic
asked at the same time.
“That woman next door.”
“Her name is Grace,” Lily said irritably.
Jordan rolled her eyes. “She’s such a
know-it-all. She had to make a snide remark about Philip
Glass.”
Dominic’s brow puckered.
“Who?”
“He’s a composer,” Lily explained to
him.
It irked Jordan that her sister knew
that. How did Lily manage to absorb everything?
“He’s really cool,” Jordan said. “But
of course that woman Grace doesn’t like him. She’s so bourgeois and
judgmental.”
“You don’t even know her,” Lily
said.
“Oh, please. I know her enough to see
she’s always had it in for me.”
Dominic stood up suddenly. “You’re
crazy! You owe Grace everything.”
Jordan laughed. “Oh, right.
Sure.”
“You do,” Dominic insisted.
“She was the one who talked Dad into
letting you go this summer.”
“What?” Lily
looked as stunned as Jordan felt.
“I don’t believe it,” Jordan
said.
Dominic nodded. “After the party last
spring, Dad was ready to—I don’t know—lock you up in your room all
summer or something. He was really mad. It
was Grace who talked him out of it.”
“How do you know this?” Jordan
demanded.
“They were in Dad’s study.” He shrugged
sheepishly. “I happened to overhear. And there was other stuff,
too.”
“Like what?” Lily asked.
Dominic looked reluctant to divulge any
more, but Lily kept at him. “Okay,” he said. “Dad said something
like ‘It was a mistake for me to kiss you.’ ”
“What?” Lily
and Jordan said the word in unison. Yelled it,
practically.
“I’m only telling you what I heard. I
felt sort of bad for her. He made it sound like he blamed Grace for
the whole thing.”
Jordan frowned. She was still trying to
wrap her mind around the fact that Grace had told her father to let
her go to California. “What whole thing?”
“The party—you know.” Dominic lifted
his shoulders. “The way it all turned out—even some incident about
a Chinese restaurant Grace hadn’t told him about.”
Heat crept into Jordan’s cheeks,
especially when Lily shot her a sharp look.
“I didn’t know,” Jordan
said.
Her brother and sister just stared at
her until she slank away. Her feet felt like lead weights as she
climbed the stairs. Grace. She’d always
disliked her so much just on superficial grounds, and because Lily
and Dominic thought she was so great. She’d never guessed she’d had
a secret advocate living right next door.