Off the Record by Camryn Garrett (read more books TXT) 📕

Dad says, straightening. “That’s amazing. Come here.”

He pulls me into his arms, squeezing the life out of me. I laugh against his shoulder.

“Deep Focus,” he says, shaking me back and forth. “Josie! We’re so proud of you!”

“We are.” Mom smiles. “So what’s the downside?”

“There really is no downside, if you think of it.” I lick my lips. “The grand prize is the chance to write a cover story for the magazine.”

“I remember you telling us that,” Dad says, shaking his head. “Our daughter, writing a cover story for Deep Focus. You know Obama was on the cover?”

“You hung the cover up in the den.” I try my best not to roll my eyes. “So I’ll get to write a cover story, too, about this new movie starring Art Springfield—”

“Art Springfield,” Dad repeats. He glances at Mom. “Sounds like we’ll have to see that one.”

“Sure, honey.” Mom doesn’t take her eyes off of me. “Get to the catch, Josie.”

“Okay.” I force a deep breath through my nose. “I have to go on a press tour with the cast and crew to cover the story accurately. And the tour goes to five cities across the United States for two weeks. The first event is next weekend, in Los Angeles.”

There’s a heavy moment of silence as she and Dad look at each other.

“Oh,” Dad says, tossing a rag over his shoulder. “Well, if that’s all.”

I flush.

“There’s no way I’m sending you across the country by yourself,” Mom says, shaking her head. “How many different cities? And where do you expect me to get that money from?”

Good. She’s explaining herself. If Mom really means no, she just shuts the conversation down before it can begin. This is her way of inviting me to fight for this.

“They’ll cover hotel and airfare,” I say. “And I get five hundred dollars cash.”

“Five hundred dollars,” Dad says. “They’re big spenders, aren’t they?”

“The rest of it can be my Christmas present,” I say. “Or I’ll use my money from Cora’s to help pay.”

“That money is for school,” Mom says.

“Right,” I say. “But a press tour is way more impressive than just freelancing. And Monique can still be my mentor and everything.”

I haven’t even run this by her, but I’m sure she wouldn’t mind. This is the type of thing capstone projects are made for. Other kids fly to different continents to do missions and build houses. I can go on a press tour that will launch my career.

“It’s just—” I huff. It’s hard to say everything I’m feeling all at once. “I’ll do anything. This is really, really important to me.”

“I don’t know,” Dad says, glancing at Mom. “It sounds like a lot of responsibility.”

“I’m responsible,” I say, holding out my hand, counting on my fingers. “I watch Cash when no one else can. I go grocery shopping on the weekends. I have a job. I practically did all the college stuff by myself. I can do this.”

Dad nods. Mom shoots him a look.

“I understand,” Mom says slowly. “I just don’t feel comfortable with you being by yourself, and I can’t take off of work for that long.”

“Neither of us would be able to,” Dad chimes in. “I really want this for you, but—”

“Maggie can go with me.” The words fly out of my mouth. “She can go with me.”

“Really?” Mom gives me a look. “She can’t take off of work, either, and I doubt you’d want to bring Cash along.”

“Well, what about Alice?”

Before my parents can even process my words, my sister comes whirling into the room. I knew she was listening.

“No,” she snaps. “I’m not taking a leave of absence to babysit.”

“It’s not babysitting,” I say. “I’m two years younger than you. And you don’t need to take a leave of absence. Your winter break literally starts next week.”

“Break is me time,” she says, folding her arms. “I need to hang out with my friends.”

“You can do that anytime. Come on, Alice. I’ve never asked you for anything.”

“That’s a lie.” She rolls her eyes. “How many times did I have to take you driving before you finally passed the driver’s test?”

“That’s different.” My face burns. I only failed the test twice because I kept getting anxious. People would beep at me or the DMV representative would remind me to do something, and I’d completely stop breathing.

“I don’t have to go just because you asked,” she says, as if I’d never said anything. “What do you expect me to do the entire time? Follow you around and knit?”

“I just need—”

“If you keep this up, y’all ain’t going nowhere,” Mom snaps. Both of us go silent. “I can’t even hear myself think.”

Alice’s lips are twisted into a frown. I bet she doesn’t want to come just because I brought it up. If Mom or Dad had asked, she would’ve complained but gone along with it. After all, it’s not like I’m asking her to poke her eyes out. I’m asking her to go on a trip with me. It’s not the worst thing in the world.

“If you make sure to stay focused on your schoolwork,” Dad says, choosing his words slowly, eyes locked on our mother. “And if you can convince Alice to go with you…I don’t see why we can’t make this work.”

I turn back to my sister. She’s still frowning.

“Alice.” I settle for sticking out my lower lip. “Please? You’ll get to go to New York and L.A., and I promise we’ll go wherever you want. I’ll do your chores for a year.”

“I’m not here most of the year.”

I groan, tossing back my head.

“Alice,” Mom says, “you don’t have to go if you don’t want to. But it would be a nice thing to do for your sister.”

Alice bites her lip. I resist the urge to pump my fist in the air. Mom’s endorsement is better than anything I could ever promise.

“Well,” she finally says, heaving a great and weary sigh. The twitching corners of her mouth give her away. “I have always wanted to go to Los