Marianne by Elizabeth Hammer (best books to read in life TXT) 📕

like the rules of the universe had shifted. Logically, she’d always known that she could deceive her parents about something big, but actually experiencing it was surreal. Mom and Dad weren’t omniscient, after all. What??

Marianne stood in the middle of her room and brought her thoughts back to her task—cleaning up her bedroom. She got the idea to do it when she was drinking her coffee that morning. By five-thirty that afternoon, she was ready to start.

Tap, tap.

Ooh, a distraction. She crawled up onto her bed, slid open the glass, and leaned into the dusty screen. Patrick was wearing her favorite outfit on him—blue jeans, white t-shirt, and a short-sleeved plaid shirt open at the front. “Hey there,” she said. “How was work?”

“Peachy,” said Patrick. “What are you doing in there?”

Marianne looked back for a second. “Cleaning my room.”

“With your mind?”

Marianne tried to look offended. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“I was taking out the trash and spotted you there.” He pointed behind her. “You haven’t moved for two minutes. I’ve been standing here just laughing at you.”

“Come in and help me, then,” she whined. “This is really hard.”

Patrick smiled and walked away. She heard him open the front door a minute later. “Did you get in trouble or something?” he asked as he walked down the hall. “Since when do you clean your room?”

Marianne ran to the bedroom door and slammed it in his face. “Hold on! You can’t come in yet.”

“Wha... You are so weird,” he said through the door.

“I’m protecting you.” Marianne scrambled around on her hands and knees, shoving certain articles of clothing under the bed—namely bras, underwear, and anything with a Goth connotation. “And no, I’m not in trouble, exactly. My dad’s just been giving me the evil eye all weekend, so I figured I’d do something to get on his good side.” Marianne hoped he’d forget to ask why she was getting the evil eye. No way was she going to tell him why Dad was mad. She stood up and opened the door. “Sorry,” she said. “Had to hide the liquor.”

“Marianne,” he said, looking shocked. “I don’t even know her.”

“What? Who?”

“That’s all right,” he said, patting her on the head and walking in. “It didn’t really make sense anyway.” He sat down on the edge of her vanity. “What’s got your dad upset? He seemed tense at church yesterday, and you guys left pretty quick.”

Marianne turned around and picked up a stack of books so he couldn’t see her face. “He just wanted to get home because I’d been gone all week, blah, blah, blah. I think he just wanted family time,” she said. “Was he rude to you or something?”

“No.” Patrick sounded surprised by her question. “He just seemed preoccupied.”

“Oh.” Marianne faked a laugh. “I’m sure it was nothing.” Smooth, girl. That kind of line never aroused suspicion. Luckily, the doorbell rang just then and Patrick went to answer it.

A moment later, Danielle charged into Marianne’s bedroom. “What happened?”

Marianne dropped the trash bag she was holding and pointed at herself. “Me? What?”

“Nana,” said Danielle. “I just went over with her dinner; she was starving. Why didn’t you give her lunch?”

“Oh, shoot!” Marianne put her hands on her head. “I forgot.”

“You forgot?” said Danielle. “This isn’t something you’re allowed to forget. You only have to do Mondays. It’s easy.”

“I know.” Marianne glanced back and forth between Danielle and Patrick. “I’m sorry. Is she okay?”

“I don’t know,” said Danielle. “That depends on how many times you forgot last week while I was gone.”

“I didn’t forget last week; I even went when I was sick.”

“So you figured that you were good to skip it today, huh?”

“No,” said Marianne. “I didn’t say that.”

“She’s a person,” said Danielle. “You have to do it every time. I can’t just usually remember to feed my kids. A social worker wouldn’t be very impressed with that story.”

“Danielle,” said Patrick from behind her. “She just forgot.”

“Oh, shut up.” Danielle turned and glared at him. “Are you gonna have the same attitude when she forgets to feed your kids? You gonna just blow that off, too?”

“Dan...”

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” Danielle turned back to Marianne. “Why didn’t you just take half your lunch to her when you ate? You didn’t even think of her then?”

“No, I...” Marianne blinked a few times; the stress was fuzzing up her vision. “I didn’t eat today; I didn’t even think. I’m sorry, Dan. I’m an idiot.”

Danielle stared at her for a moment. “Okay then.”

“Okay then?” said Marianne.

“Yeah.” Danielle wrinkled her nose. “I wasn’t really that mad, anyway. I just wanted to see you squirm.” With that, she flopped backwards onto Marianne’s bed and sighed.

Marianne clucked her tongue. “You weren’t even mad?”

“Nuh-uh.”

Marianne rolled her eyes and lay down on the bed by Danielle. “I thought you were gonna rip my throat out.”

Danielle shrugged. “Scaring people is my one talent. I need to use it.”

“Huh?” said Marianne. “I thought getting pregnant was your one talent.”

“Ooh! Speaking of food and kids. I didn’t tell you guys about the call from the school yet.” Danielle rolled onto her side and propped her head up in her hand. She waited for Patrick to go sit by the vanity and then started telling them about how the school principal had called about Mickey a few weeks ago. He’d offered to enroll both the kids in the free lunch program. “He wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

“Why would he do that?” asked Patrick, though he didn’t really look like he cared. He seemed annoyed by the story.

“Wait for it,” said Danielle. “He was so pushy that I agreed. They gave the kids these little green cards to take to school every day, and it seemed like everything was going great. Until today.” She paused and raised her eyebrows for effect. “The principal just called. He took it all back. He said he’s so sorry, and that he finally believes that we don’t need help. You know why? You know why? It’s because