The Form of Things Unknown

  But at the last minute, I don’t send it. I delete the question, worried that it sounds like I’m still interested in Caleb. Which I’m not.

  When I get back to the table, everyone is still waiting for their food. But it’s too quiet. Colton is checking his phone. Caitlyn is still coloring. Everyone else is staring off into space, lost in their own thoughts.

  Are they all deliberately not looking at me?

  They’ve been talking about me.

  I can tell by the way Raine is playing with her fork.

  Starla is watching the waitress clear the next table. And Lucas is watching the television up on the wall.

  David is rearranging the syrup bottles.

  They’ve been talking about my illness. David and Lucas both know, so either one of them could have said something. And now everyone at this table knows I’m crazy.

  “Here we go!” The overly exuberant waitress brings out the food and everyone looks up. I see David glancing at me before concentrating on his plate. Is that guilt in his face? He had to be the one to talk. Or maybe it was Lucas.

  Starla eats the whipped cream off her pancakes first. “Did y’all hear Maizy say a news crew is filming us during the dress rehearsal next week?”

  “No way,” Colton says. “I hope they get a good picture of my horns.”

  “Are you going to eat?” Lucas leans over and asks. I look down and realize I’ve just been pushing my food around on my plate.

  “Sorry,” I say. “Want my hash browns?”

  He shakes his head. “Just checking to see if you were still with us.”

  I nod and finish my pancakes. I picked the chocolate ones, too, just like Caitlyn. I’m still here. Worrying about a million things, but I’m here.

  I feel Lucas’s hand squeeze my knee for the briefest moment. All thoughts of everything else fly out of my head as I realize how close we actually are. It’s like a comforting touch, a squeeze from one friend to another. At least that’s what I think it was. It didn’t last long enough to be sleazy.

  Am I supposed to squeeze him back? Caleb was never affectionate unless he was high or drunk. Usually I was drinking, too, so I didn’t mind.

  * * *

  On the way home, Raine slides into the backseat again, so I get in the front with Starla. “Driver picks the music,” Starla says, blasting the stereo as she pulls out of the parking lot.

  Everyone in the car is silent for a long time, the space filled with loud music. I can’t stop thinking about Lucas.

  “Taxicab confessions!” Raine finally shouts.

  Starla giggles. “You have to go first. You’re in the back.”

  “Okay.” She thinks for a minute. “When I was in kindergarten I French-kissed a girl.”

  “Who?” Starla demands.

  “That’s a different confession. It’s your turn.”

  I’m scared to confess anything. I don’t want to let the wrong secret out. And it would be too easy, in this space where we’re all sharing deep dark secrets. It would be so easy to tell them I’m sick.

  Starla glances over at me and her smile is friendly. “Your turn, Natalie. Driver gets to go last.”

  Here is my chance to tell them about my illness. I want to tell them. Before they find out some other way. If they haven’t already.

  “My grandmother has schizophrenia,” I say, chickening out at the last minute. “That’s why we moved here from Athens. She got worse after my grandfather died, and she needs someone watching her at all times.”

  I can’t talk about me just yet. But this is a step.

  “Wow,” Starla says. “That sucks.”

  “I’m sorry, Natalie,” Raine says. “It must be rough on your parents.”

  “Is that why you broke up with Caleb?” Starla asks as she pulls onto my street.

  “Not really. He was just a bad influence on me.”

  “Cool house,” Raine says as we pull in behind Dad’s car. He’s actually home for once.

  “It’s Grandma’s,” I say. “Thanks for the ride.”

  Raine moves to the front when I get out. “See you tomorrow!” she says.

  Starla waves and drives off before I reach the front door.

  The house is silent when I get inside. No psychotic grandmother singing Beatles songs, no fighting parents. No Beatles songs blaring from Grandma’s bedroom. It’s a good sign. She must be asleep.

  The dishwasher kicks on in the kitchen and I follow its sound. Mom is cleaning up after another day’s worth of baking. She’s getting more orders now, so business is starting to pick up.

  “How was practice?” she asks.

  “Fine. I went to IHOP with David and his friends afterward. We had fun.”

  “Is he coming in?”

  I shake my head. “He didn’t bring me home. Starla did.” I lean over the counter to sniff the cupcakes that are cooling. Coconut and chocolate.

  “And who is Starla?”

  “One of David’s friends at the theater. Well, her cousin is one of David’s friends from SCAD. And they’re both in the play with us.”

  I pour a glass of water to take my medicine. Mom smiles. She looks happier, more at peace than I’ve seen her in a long time. I’m making new friends and I’m completely stable. I have given her one less thing to worry about.

  CHAPTER 11

  I wake up to Mom bursting through the door to my room. “Nat! What do you know about David’s friend Colton?” She doesn’t even bother to knock.

  Oh Lord. I know lots of things. “Why?”

  She drops down to sit on my mattress, not bothering to wait for me to scoot over. I have to pull my feet out from under her.

  “Oof, this is uncomfortable. Honey, is David gay?”

  Why am I stuck in the middle of this? I sit up slowly, rubbing my eyes in an attempt to stall. “What are you talking about?”

  Mom folds her hands in her lap. “Grandma says her friend Agnes’s son Colton is David’s boyfriend. I told her that couldn’t be true. Because I would know, right? David would have told us. Or you would have told us. Right?”

  As long as I’ve been begging him to tell them, an evil imp inside me wants to tell her it’s none of her business. David has always been the perfect son. Straight As, soccer trophies, never a discipline problem, never any teen drama. I was the troublesome one. Sneaking out with boys. Coming home tipsy. Having a psychotic break at the spring break bonfire.

  “I think Colton is gay,” I say carefully. “He loves your cupcakes, by the way.”

  “Nat, you know we won’t be upset if David’s gay. Of course I’d still love him. I’d just be upset if he didn’t think he could tell us.”

  I know it’s not Mom; it’s Dad that my brother is worried about. But I can’t tell Mom that. It’s not my place to tell her these things. Even if Grandma has already spilled the beans.

  Hateful woman.

  I sigh. “I really don’t know anything,” I say finally. “Can I have a cupcake for breakfast?”

  Mom gives up. “Your father would still love him, too, you know.” She goes back downstairs, without a yes or a no on the cupcakes.

  Grandma is in the kitchen, drinking her coffee. I guess she hasn’t spread enough malicious gossip for the day. And anyway, how does she know about Colton and David? She doesn’t hang out with any of her friends anymore. She never goes anywhere.

  “Are you sure you should be eating one of those for breakfast?” she asks, watching me take a cupcake and put it on a paper plate.

  She has no right to tell me what to do, and I’m not feeling very polite this morning. “Mom didn’t answer when I asked. That means, while she might not approve, she didn’t say no, and she’s not here to clarify.”

  Grandma rolls her eyes. “In that case, hand me one, too.”

  Back in Athens, one of Mom’s best-selling flavors was a triple chocolate concoction called Prozac, because you couldn’t help but feel happier after eating one.

  I wish I could make everyone happy that easily. br />
  “Grandma, how did you know about David?”

  She finishes her cupcake and wipes her mouth with a napkin. “He told me when he was twelve. When he came to Savannah and stayed that summer with your grandfather and me.”

  A whole year before he came out to me.

  I can hear my phone ringing upstairs, but it stops before I get back to my room. I missed a call from Raine. I call her back and she’s frantic.

  “Girl, I’m desperate and I think you can help me. I’m supposed to babysit Lucas’s sister today, but I have to ride with my dad over to Tybee. If Lucas says it’s okay, can you watch her? It’s only from two to six, after her summer camp lets out, and then you can take her to play practice with you.”

  “But I don’t have a car,” I say. And I really don’t think Lucas will agree to let a fellow psych patient babysit his little sister.

  Raine sighs heavily. “Okay, you have a license, right? I can leave my car with you, since I’ll be stuck in a truck all day with Dad. Please? Lucas only has one other backup babysitter and Mrs. Tully is in the hospital.”

  Grandma must have returned to her bedroom, because now I hear “And I Love Her” blasting from downstairs. She is in a mellow mood today.

  “What about Starla?” I ask.

  “She’s working at the Pirate House today. It’s only four hours and he’ll pay you twenty dollars. I know that’s not much, but he really can’t afford much more.”

  “That’s fine,” I say. “I’ll do it. If Lucas says it’s okay.”

  “Why wouldn’t he? He’ll be ecstatic that I solved his problem for him.”

  “Shouldn’t his dad be the one handling Caitlyn’s babysitting?”

  “Lucas’s dad hasn’t been right since his mom died. Honestly, I would have expected him to attempt suicide before I would have expected Lucas to do it. And after Lucas came back from Winter Oaks, I guess his dad felt guilty for failing Lucas, too, and he just gave up.”

  “Gave up on what?” I ask.

  “He gave up on everything.” She sighs again and I can hear her exasperation. “Can you watch Caitlyn or not?”

  “I guess so. If Lucas says it’s okay.”

  “Thank you. I’ll text him right now.”

  “No problem.” But that is a lie. What if he tells her no and tells her why he doesn’t want me watching his sister? What if he tells Raine I’m too crazy to be responsible for little kids?

  I jump in the shower, afraid that Raine and Starla are about to find out what a weirdo I am. Because I’m certain Raine will tell Starla the moment she finds out. And then I will lose two more friends.

  I don’t know why I’m even bothering. I shouldn’t even try to have a social life here. It will only be a matter of time before I slip and do something that will land me back at Winter Oaks. Or possibly someplace worse.

  When I get out of the shower, the Beatles are still blaring. I check my phone and there is a single text from Raine. He says okay!

  I sink down on my bed, half-relieved and half-scared out of my mind. What am I going to do with a five-year-old for four hours?

  I decide to wear one of my Disney shirts—it’s a picture of the stained-glass window from Beauty and the Beast—and wait for Raine to bring me her car.

  I tell Mom about my plans for the afternoon. She looks worried. “Are you going to bring the little girl back here?”

  And suddenly I realize what she’s thinking. Grandma. I can’t watch Caitlyn here after all. There goes my plan for having Mom around as a backup babysitter. “No, I guess I’ll have to sit with her at the Grants’ house.”

  Raine brings her car over before ten. “Sorry about dropping all of this in your lap. Here are the keys, Caitlyn is at the summer camp on Pine, she gets out at two, and she will have already had lunch. Don’t let her talk you into taking her to McDonald’s.”

  “Does she have a house key?” I ask.

  Raine shakes her head. “Her father is home, but Lucas doesn’t want her hanging out around the house when he’s not there.”

  “Okay,” I say, regretting that I called her back this morning.

  Still, this is for Caitlyn, and I’m happy to help. Maybe I can take her to the playground or the mall or something. It’s going to be okay. I try to smile as I take the car keys from Raine. “Have a good trip.”

  “Thanks, Nat. You’re a lifesaver!”

  * * *

  Raine’s Fiat is easy to drive, and I find the summer camp fifteen minutes early. I wait in line with a bunch of minivans and SUVs. I feel weird. When the kids are released, Caitlyn runs and jumps in the car. “You’re not Raine! You’re the fairy queen!” she says.

  “You can call me Natalie,” I say. “Raine had to do something with her dad today, so Lucas said it was okay for you to hang out with me for a few hours.”

  “Am I your minion?” she asks suspiciously. “Do I have to do everything you say?”

  I’m pretty sure it’s a trick question. “Do you have to be Raine’s minion when she watches you? She’s not even a fairy queen.” I sigh when I realize she’s still waiting for my answer. “As long as you don’t do anything dangerous like play in traffic or run with scissors, we’ll be okay.”

  “Can we go to McDonald’s? I’m starving.”

  I grin. “I know you’re lying, little girl, but that’s okay.”

  She shrugs.

  The playground at McDonald’s is fenced, and there aren’t any crazy people here. Other than me, of course. “Do you like nuggets or cheeseburgers?” I ask.

  She wrinkles her nose. “Neither. I like the fries.”

  We get French fries and chocolate shakes and sit at one of the plastic tables outside. Even in the shade, it’s hot, and I wish I’d picked the McDonald’s with the indoor playground. But last time I babysat a two-year-old, he climbed up into the play tunnel and I couldn’t talk him into coming out.

  “Do you like being in the play?” I ask.

  “Mmm-hmm,” Caitlyn says. “The donkey head guy is kinda weird, though. Do you like him?”

  “My character, Titania, is supposed to like him. But only because Oberon and Puck put a magic spell on her.”

  “Lucas doesn’t like him.”

  “Why not?” I can’t remember ever seeing them have anything to do with each other.

  “I don’t know,” she says, pushing her fries away. “And he doesn’t like Maizy, either, because she was mean to me and Starla told him that she was a drug addict. Can I go on the slide now?”

  “Maizy was mean to you?”

  “She yelled at me when I was singing the Sponge Bob song. I don’t think she really does drugs, though. I heard Mrs. Green talking on the phone yesterday and she told someone that she was sorry for the misunderstanding and that Maizy was welcome to stay in the play.” Caitlyn stands up. “I’m going to slide.”

  “Sure.” I look at the time on my phone. 2:25. I have no idea why Starla thinks Maizy is a drug addict. Or why a five-year-old would know these things. Only three and a half more hours to go.

  * * *

  Of course, I can’t keep a five-year-old hostage at McDonald’s for four hours. When she’s finally played enough and finished her shake and fed the rest of her fries to the birds (ugh), I decide we’d better go on to the house. Maybe Grandma will stay in her room.

  “Ooh, you have a tall house,” Caitlyn says as we pull up behind Mom’s car. “I wish we had an upstairs.”

  “My bedroom is up top in the attic,” I say as we get out. “Want to see it?”

  “Sure. Ooh, a kitty. Does she bite?”

  Not as much as Grandma does. “She’s mostly friendly. Her name is Zora.”

  The minute Caitlyn sits down on the front step, the cat rubs up against her legs and purrs. “She likes me!” Caitlyn is ecstatic. “I used to have a cat, but Lucas is allergic so we had to give it away.”

  This poor motherless, catless child. And it sounds like she doesn’t have much of a father around, either. Lucas is all she’s got. No
wonder he feels the weight of the world on his shoulders.

  He’s too young to be raising a five-year-old, I think. “Caitlyn, how old is your brother?” I ask.

  She shrugs. “I’m five. I’ll be six in December.”

  And that tells me nothing. “Does he go to high school?” I press.

  “I think he should have graduated last year, but he got sick and had to go in the hospital. Does Zora know any tricks?”

  I shouldn’t be grilling Lucas’s little sister for information about him. When the cat meows and scratches on the door, I unlock it. “Come on. Did you know my mom is the best cupcake baker in all of Georgia? Let’s see if she has some for us to eat.”

  “Does she make chocolate cupcakes?” Caitlyn asks, following me inside.

  The cat darts inside and disappears down the hall, tired of the five-year-old’s attention.

  “Come back, Zora,” Caitlyn wails.

  In the kitchen, I see a plate sitting out with chocolate frosted cupcakes waiting for us. Prozac to drown our sorrows.

  CHAPTER 12

  Caitlyn and I are watching the Disney Channel in the living room when Lucas arrives. We both have stomachaches. She ate two cupcakes, on top of the fries and milk shake from earlier.

  Mom answers the door and shows Lucas into the living room. Caitlyn gives him a chocolatey smile.

  “Let’s get you washed up before you go home,” I say. “Come into the kitchen with me.”

  Mom tries to give Lucas a box of cupcakes to take home, and he tries to politely refuse.

  “Mrs. Roman says her cupcakes make people happy,” Caitlyn tells him, while I scrub her face with a wet paper towel. “We need to take some home to Dad.”

  Lucas blushes. I want to give Lucas, his dad, his sister, everyone in the whole world Prozac cupcakes. I wish making people happy was my superpower. The power to banish sadness.

  “Well, in that case,” Lucas says, taking the box Mom is holding out, “thank you very much, Mrs. Roman.” He turns to me, handing me an envelope. “And thank you, Natalie. I don’t know what I would have done without you today.”

  “You don’t have to pay me for today,” I say, opening the front door. “Caitlyn and I just hung out for the afternoon. It’s not like I’m a professional babysitter. I don’t even know CPR.”