Françoise Caine hated her name and was going to change it when she was old enough, which was five long years away. She hated the way her dad and stepmom, Liz, still insisted on calling her Francie even though she'd told them she hated it. In the lower grades, she'd been called Franny Fannie and now some of the really annoying boys at school called her Frankenstein after she had people start calling her Fran, because of how her name sounded when the homeroom teacher took attendance in the morning. She was so definitely going to change her name. She was also going to get a tattoo (or maybe two) and lots of piercings in each ear and a belly ring and dye her hair some outrageous color.
She was also going to track down her real mother, Therese, when she turned eighteen and demand to know why she'd decided after Fran was born that she didn't want anything to do with her daughter, dumped her on her dad, and then left them both for some other guy. She wasn't really mad that her mom had left her dad. That, she could understand. He was totally pussy-whipped. It was pathetic the way he let Liz totally dominate him and order him around, and he was always telling Fran she should be glad Liz was her mother instead of Therese, who hated her and had never loved her. When she was younger, she'd believed that her real mother was a total monster, but she'd wised up since then and saw through her father's constant tales of how he had no idea why her mom had left him and Fran; that he'd tried so hard to make the marriage work but Therese wanted no part of it. She would have totally ignored everything her dad told her, except (and she knew because she'd been going through her father's and Liz's desks and listening to their conversations for years) her mom had never tried to contact her or have anything to do with her. Maybe her father was actually telling the truth about her mom wanting nothing to do with her.
The one thing she did know for sure, though, is that things would be better if Liz wasn't around at all. Liz had put on a whole act when she'd started dating Fran's dad, acting like she thought Fran was the cutest kid ever and trying to pretend like she was Fran's mom, and she'd attempted to bribe her way into Fran's heart with ice cream sundaes, candy, and toys. Fran, two-and-a-half then, had been fooled at first, but she noticed Liz was always around and Fran never had any time alone with her dad and when she'd made it clear she wanted her daddy to herself sometimes, Liz's Perfect!Mommy act started to fall apart. Too quickly, the truth became clear: Liz didn't really like kids. Liz liked the idea of kids. She liked the laughing and playing cute games and petting puppies and pushing happy toddler on swings and being lauded for the way kids loved her. Liz did not like the reality of kids. When there was crying and scraped knees and blood and snot and diapers to be changed, there were papers to be graded and lesson plans to write and dinner to prepare. When she couldn't conveniently escape the not-fun side of things, Liz resorted to tears and whinging and complaining and blaming others. Fran had tried to point this out to her father when she was five, and realized for the first time other mommies would clean booboos and actually look at the pictures you drew and let their kids give them sloppy kisses even if no one was watching them. She'd told her daddy that she felt like Liz only acted like she loved her when other people were around, but her daddy said that was silly; that Liz loved her all the time. Fran had started to see then that Daddy didn't know the real Liz, and she had started asking God then for one of the other mommies, who loved you all the time and didn't yell for the daddies to take care of the messy/hurt/crying child and act like they had better things to do.
Ever since she was eight, Liz had always had her doing chores around the house and, after they were born, taking care of her brothers, AJ and Toby, and sister, Beatrice, on the weekends when she and Fran's dad went out. Liz didn't seem to realize that left Fran no time for a social life, because she was always pestering Fran about why she didn't go out with friends and why didn't she have a boyfriend and how she had been dating Fran's father when she was Fran's age and Fran really should get out more and be social, instead of always hiding away in her room because it just wasn't normal. Fran had told Liz she would go out more if she didn't always have to do chores and take care of her brothers and sister, and Liz had yelled at her about being a brat and trying to dump everything on her and get out of helping around the house and how tired she and Fran's dad were at the end of the day and was it so much to ask for a little assistance. That was, of course, accompanied by lots of sobbing and Liz making herself out to be the victim of an uncaring stepchild. Fran, of course, had escaped up to her room and locked the door before her dad came along and started chewing Fran out for making Liz cry and feel bad about herself.
The only member of Liz's family Fran liked was April, who was younger than Liz and Mike and the only one who didn't act like a total nutcase. How Aunt April had managed to avoid that, Fran had no idea, but she suspected it had something to do with April pretty much being ignored and dismissed by her family once she stopped being a cute, cooing baby. After high school, April had chosen to go to a vet school out west and live with Liz's dad's ("Grampa John, I insist!") brother and sister-in-law in Manitoba between semesters. Whatever the reason, April was really awesome. She actually took what Fran had to say seriously, which her dad and Liz never did. It was too bad she lived out in Manitoba, working in a vet practice with her cousin, Laurie, but at least there was email. April probably would have moved back East, but by the time she graduated vet school, she had become a vegetarian, gotten some tattoos and five holes in each ear which, according to Elly, Liz's mom ("Call me Grandma Elly, Frannie!"), meant April had been corrupted by the liberal agenda all universities brainwashed students with and Elly felt it was her duty to preach at April and pester her back into the right way of thinking.
"Flee! Flee before it's too late!" April had teased in her last email. "Not that I'm encouraging you to come out here, and if you did decide to, of course I'd have no idea about that, but if you did, I'd never say you could stay with me and Jen" –April's partner— "and neither would Laurie or Aunt Maude and Uncle Joe. If you did happen to show up, though, and tell us you'd dropped out of school and run away—both of which you can legally do at sixteen, by the way—we'd be so horrified we'd never even think of suggesting you get your GED and Jen and I would never offer to cover your university costs so you can study photography like you want, instead of going to university for teaching, like my sister says you must if she and your dad, who'll just parrot whatever Liz says, are going to pay." Fran had immediately replied that she was disappointed April was so uptight, but if that's how it was, she'd immediately put any ideas like that right out of her head. Oh, and would April mind finding out what she'd need to do to officially drop out.
It was May of her grade ten year, and, for once, fifteen-year-old Fran Caine didn't have anything to do after school. None of her teachers had assigned any homework, and Liz's mother had Fran's brothers and sister for the day. Fran was sure if she went home after school, there would be a long list of things Liz wanted Fran to do before she got home from work, so Fran went to the mall with her BFF, Marcie, to look at summer fashions and check out all the hot guys. That way, when Liz yelled at her because nothing was done, she could honestly say she'd never seen the list so how could she have known. Liz was also the one who wanted her to get out more and do things with friends, so Fran had only been doing what Liz wanted her to do. Liz would yell more, Fran's dad would tell Fran to cut Liz (who he referred to as "your mother") some slack and it wouldn't kill her to help around the house, and Fran would go up to her room and read. Downstairs, Liz would fall into her father's arms, weeping about how she tried so hard to be a good mother and why didn't Francie accept her, and her father would comfort Liz, saying Fran had taken her mother's leaving when she was just a baby hard and Fran would eventually see what a great mom Liz was to her and she and Liz would get along great. Things usually went like that in the Caine household.
Over pizza and milkshakes in the mall's food court, Fran and Marcie talked about how totally uptight and oppressive their parents were about dating and how their teachers were just, like, totally loading them down with homework.
"I can't believe Mrs. Perkins, like, wants a two-page paper about how Ontario's Parliament works," Marcie griped, stabbing a French fry into the little paper cup of ketchup on her tray. "It's so boring and I'll never be able to, like, write that much!"
Fran nodded sympathetically. "I totally hear you. April, like, totally helped me out with that when I had to, like, write a paper for Mr. Francis' Government class last month. She sent me the one she'd written when she, like, took the class that she'd gotten a B on."
"Is that the one you, like, got an A+ on?"
Fran nodded, grinning.
Marcie's jaw drooped open for a moment before she pulled her mouth shut. "No way!"
"Totally. It was April's idea. Dad and Liz were, like, so proud of me they said I wouldn't have to spend as much time taking care of their brats anymore."
"So you could, like, spend more time on your homework and, like, get straight A's." Marcie rolled her eyes. "I'm, like, so glad your parents, like, never told my parents about that or, like, I'd be locked in my room all the time, forced to, like, study all the time."
"It's all about getting scholarships and grants to top universities." Fran snatched several fries off Marcie's tray and eating them before Marcie could grab them back. "But only schools with good teaching programs, of course."
"You're, like, still planning to, like, move in with April and Jen next year, right?"
Fran nodded. "It'll suck to leave you and Marc and John and Rachel, but, like, I swear I'll scream and start killing people or something if I have to put up with Liz and my dad always taking her side and their stupid little brats much longer. Thanks for holding onto my diary and camera and stuff, by the way. Liz and my dad would, like, totally have a complete fit if they knew I was still in the photography club at school and they'd go totally postal if they found out John asked me to the end-of-year dance next month. They're so repressive about dating. Liz thinks I'll, like, turn into some kind of flirt and tease and start dating lots of guys at once and just be, like, a total slut or something." Fran, smirking, met Marcie's eyes. "It's like she thinks I'll end up like her or something." The two girls giggled loudly, remembering what they'd read when they were twelve and had found Liz's old diaries in the attic of Fran's house.
"She, like, doesn't want you to risk, like, making the same mistake she did and, like, start dating a guy who isn't, like, whiter than sandwich bread," Marcie said dryly. "She's afraid you might actually, like, marry him and have little half-breed children."
"It would be horrible, wouldn't it?" Sarcasm dripped off Fran's words. "Terrible thing, little savages running around half-naked, undisciplined, ignorant of manners and decent behavior, causing trouble for the neighbors and their teachers at school." She finished off the last of her milkshake. "I don't know why that would bother her, though. AJ's like that and she thinks he's perfect."
"She also thinks her brother is, like, some sort of great writer." Marcie laughed as she stood up with her tray. "My English teacher, like, uses his novels to, like, demonstrate how not to write. How does he, like, keep getting published, anyway?"
Fran shrugged and followed Marcie to the nearest trashcan. "Who knows? Maybe he's sleeping with someone. Or not. He's too busy trying to write, like, the next great Canadian epic novel for that."
The girls were walking into Chapters when Fran stopped and grabbed Marcie's arm. "The poster in the window." She pointed with her free hand at the window poster advertising Labyrinth as a classic for the low price of 10.99. "Liz totally loves that movie. I swear she, like, watches it a million times each weekend. I think I could recite the entire thing, like, in my sleep. I used to like it but she plays it so much she ruined it for me and now I hate it. She's probably going to, like, buy this stupid new disc and play all the special parts over and over until I hate them, too."
"You're breaking my arm, dear. Let go."
"Sorry." Fran dropped her hand. "I just really hate how Liz plays it all the time. I totally sympathize with the main character, Sarah. I know exactly what she feels like, with a stepmother who won't get off your back and always having to take care of your obnoxious younger siblings."
"Just AJ. Bea's a total angel and Toby's only six months old. Babies are supposed to fuss and cry and make a mess of everything." Marcie studied the poster for a moment. "The evil guy wouldn't be so bad if he had better hair."
Fran nodded. "And less eye shadow and better clothes. It was made in the Eighties, though. Looking like a total freak was normal then."
"I'm home!" Fran yelled as she slammed the front door of her house behind herself.
"Make sure you take your shoes off!" Liz's voice came from the kitchen. "I don't want any more dirt tracked onto the carpet! And don't slam the door!"
"Tell AJ that," she muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes. Only Liz would blame her for muddy prints made by a sneaker with a sports car in the tread and Fran had learned years ago that pointing out the obvious was a waste of time and breath. It seemed only fair Liz should have to waste time and breath as well, which was why Fran made a point of always slamming doors as often as possible when Liz was around.
After taking off her shoes, Fran padded into the kitchen to get something to drink. Liz wasn't there, but the sound of running water coming from down the back hall told her Liz was in the powder room.
AJ (wearing his sneakers) was sitting at the table, a tall glass of milk and a plate with several chocolate chip cookies on it in front of him. The area around his mouth was smeared with chocolate and cookie crumbs clung to his chin and shirt, and his upper lip was sporting a milk mustache. Fran pinched her lips together to keep from laughing as she opened the fridge. For once, he looked like a normal little boy, engrossed in the enjoyment of milk and cookies, and she wished she had her camera to capture it.
"MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!" AJ bellowed. "Frannie Fanny's in the fridge and she's taking a big piece of pie!"
'I knew it was too good to last,' Fran thought sourly as she took a can of Coke off the top fridge shelf. 'I hope Liz keeps this short. I need to get on MySpace.' Bumping the fridge door shut with her hip, Fran leaned against the island across from it and popped open the can of soda.
Liz emerged from the powder room a moment later, still dressed from work in what Fran privately referred to as Frump to the Max. Liz looked forty-one going on seventy-five in her prim tailored plum-colored suit (skirt midway down the calf) and cream blouse, the strand of pearls around her neck matching the small studs in her ears. Her black flats and severe bun completed the image of a woman who was old before her time. Liz thought the look became her and Fran's dad (no surprise) agreed, so most of Liz's wardrobe were dark-colored suits, perfectly ironed and starched slacks, and blouses with very little scoop at the neckline in cream, sky blue, ivory, lavender, and grey. Her hair was always in a bun.
"What were you saying, AJ?" Liz asked.
"Franny Fanny was taking a big slice of pie!" AJ, mouth full, sprayed cookie crumbs as he spoke. "She put away the plate and knife when I yelled."
Liz's eyes became hard and she turned her gaze, now angry, on Fran.
"You know that pie is for dessert tonight, young lady. What do you have to say for yourself?"
Fran resisted the urge to make a sarcastic retort. Instead, she said, "Nothing you'd believe, since you've already made up your mind. If you'll excuse me—"
"Do not talk to me that way, young lady!" Liz took a step toward Fran. "How dare you speak to me with such disrespect!"
"How is what I said disrespectful?" Fran worked to keep her voice level. If it shook, it would be from anger but Liz would take it as fear and, like a vicious predator, move in for the kill. "You asked if I had anything to say for myself and I replied that there's nothing you'd believe, and I was asking to be excused so I could go up to my room and read until dinner. So, may I be excused?" Fran raised her eyebrows questioningly.
Liz narrowed her eyes and glared at Fran. "You're as bad as your bitch of a mother, always looking down your nose at me and thinking you're better than me, showing me no respect at all. You have a lot of nerve, accusing your brother of lying for no reason."
"I didn't accuse AJ of anything, Liz, and my mother has nothing to do with this." Fran bit her tongue so hard she could taste blood. "I gave an honest, respectful answer to your question. If it's not what you wanted to hear, I'm sorry, but I'm not going to lie. All I went into the fridge for was a Coke. There is no way I could've put away a plate, a knife, and a fork, which would've required going to opposite ends of the kitchen, and gotten back here before you came out of the powder room."
"So you're saying that it was AJ who was trying to steal some pie?"
"I'm saying anything of the sort and never meant anything like that. Please don't put words into my mouth."
Liz crossed her arms tightly over her chest. "So who was getting into the pie, then? A ghost?"
Fran snapped. "No one was, Liz! NO ONE! Not me, not AJ, not anyone! AJ was stuffing his face with cookies and I was getting something to drink before I went upstairs. THAT IS ALL. Oh, and for future reference, don't yell at me about dirt on the carpet and floors if you're going to let that brat—" Fran nodded in AJ's direction "—keep his shoes on, because he is the one tracking all the dirt and mess in here, and you'd know that if you'd bother to actually look at the tracks and think and use your common sense because if you did, you'd realize IT COULDN'T POSSIBLY BE ME BECAUSE I DO NOT WEAR STUPID SNEAKERS WITH STUPID CARS ON THE BOTTOMS!" For a long moment, the only sound was Fran's ragged breathing. Across the room, AJ was turned in his chair, staring at Fran with an open mouth and expression of shock, with a bit of fear. Liz was still as stone, her lips thin, white lines.
Emboldened by Liz's silence, Fran continued. "I'm sick of always being blamed for everything AJ does and I'm sick of you and Dad always believing AJ over me, no matter what, and I'm sick and tired of you dumping all the housework and taking care of Toby and Bea on me and Dad because you're tired. Guess what? SO ARE WE! You're not the only one who's working all day! I'm at school, doing work in classes and studying, like you and Dad want me to so I can be on the f'ing honor roll! Dad is at work, keeping books for Gordon and his growing retail empire! WE'RE ALL TIRED! ALL OF US WANT TO REST! You're the only one who whines and moans and goes on and on about it, though. You act as if you've been slaving away, doing hard physical labor all day and you barely have the energy to keep your eyes open, and you expect Dad and me to do it all while you rest your delicate little self! After dinner, you say you can't do anything because you have to work on lessons or grade papers and leave Dad and me to clean up and do dishes and take care of the kids. You stop working long enough to read them bedtime stories and tuck them in, and you act as if you deserve a freaking medal of honor for being mother of the year or something! THINK ABOUT SOMEONE OTHER THAN YOURSELF FOR A CHANGE! IT'S NOT ALL ABOUT YOU!" Fran was sobbing now. "You and Dad ride my ass to make straight A's and be on the honor roll, and when I say I need to work on homework and papers in the evenings YOU act as if I'm making up an excuse to avoid having to do housework or take care of the kids and Dad always takes your side, and it's at least nine o' clock before I can finally get upstairs and start working!"
Liz started to speak, but Fran cut her off. "I'M NOT FINISHED! On the weekends, you expect me to watch the kids anytime you want me to, even if it means abandoning MY plans! You expect me to devote the entire freaking weekend to watching the kids while you and Dad go off and have fun. I don't even bother to say anything about how I have projects I need to work on or I had plans with friends because I know you'll just yell at me for being selfish and unwilling to help out and not pulling my load and Dad, because he's spineless and pussywhipped, will nod and parrot what you say! Because YOU are too freaking self-centered to consider anyone else's needs or wants besides your own, I am so busy taking care of YOUR children and cleaning YOUR house I barely have enough time to do schoolwork, nevermind actually spend time with friends being a teenager, which you're always on me about. You ride my ass about how I'm always home and never go out and how I should have boyfriends and be just like you were. HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO DO THAT IF I AM ALWAYS TIED TO THE HOUSE? Oh, and you want to know why I don't have a boyfriend? Meredith, who you always say you wish I was like, stole him, just like she steals everyone's boyfriends. Your niece is a TOTAL SLUT. When Mike and Dee think she's studying at the library, the only thing she's studying is the best way to give a guy head or if doing it doggy style is better than sitting on his lap and riding him hard."
Liz slapped Fran hard enough to knock her to the floor.
"That is ENOUGH from you, Françoise Caine! Go up to your room and stay there until your father and I decide what to do with you!"
Fran, hand pressed to her stinging cheek, glared at Liz as she stood up. "Don't you mean what YOU decide? I used to think you were nice and that my real mom was the selfish one. I've realized I was wrong. You're the selfish one, Liz. You only think about yourself and what makes you happy. My mother never made any secret of the fact she didn't want kids but Dad pushed her into it and she was honest when she said he'd be the one raising me and taking care of me. That's not being selfish, that's being honest." She hurried from the kitchen before Liz could say anything.
Instead of going up to her room, Fran left, not caring that it hurt her feet to run on the sidewalk. All she wanted to do was get away. If Liz thought she was just going to sit in her room and wait for Liz tell her father what to do and have her father act as if it was something he'd had a part in deciding, Liz was nuts. Well, she was nuts regardless of if she thought Fran was going to stick around, but she was kidding herself on top of being nuttier than squirrel poo (Fran had loved that line when she read it in Deathly Hallows). The only question was where to go.
Robin's was immediately crossed off her mental list. Mike would for sure call her house and Liz would tell Mike her distorted version of what happened (which would probably include Fran viciously attacking her) and make Mike bring her home and then Robin would catch it from Mike and Meredith, even though he'd had nothing to do with it. Marcie's was several miles away and too far to walk, especially barefoot. Yoko was only a few blocks away, but her parents were very strict and would call Liz if Fran suddenly showed up and wanted to do something with Yoko.
"Hell's bells on little white mice," Fran muttered, slowing to a walk as she neared the corner. "Where—ohshit!" Her father's car was just turning the corner and was headed straight for her. Frantically, Fran looked around for somewhere to hide, and spotting a shrub about ten feet away, she sprinted over to the tall bush and crouched behind it, waiting until she couldn't hear her dad's car anymore to stand up and start running again. The shit was totally going to hit the fan now. Fran had a few minutes to find somewhere to hide out while Liz ranted and raved to Fran's dad before anyone was likely to come out looking for her to drag her home and she intended to make the most of it.
At the corner, Fran turned right, remembering a small playground not too far down the street that she'd found several years ago while riding her bike with Marcie. She was pretty sure Liz or her dad didn't know about it, so they wouldn't think to look there. She'd have to go home at some point, but by then, hopefully, Liz would have sobbed herself out and would be in the master bedroom, resting her poor, delicate self and all her dad would do was chastise her for upsetting Liz, make excuses for AJ's being a brat and why he and Liz let him get away with murder, and then tell Fran to go up to her room and stay there for the rest of the night.
The back edge of the playground was a shallow gully that, when there was rain, a stream ran through on its way to the Sharon River. At the moment, though, it was dry, making it the perfect spot to hide out for a while. It was too bad, Fran thought as she made herself as comfortable as she could, she hadn't known about the gully years ago. It was the perfect place to talk to friends without an obnoxious half-brother eavesdropping and telling Mommy and Daddy everything he heard (and plenty of things he hadn't), and not being at the house meant that if Liz wanted Fran to do anything, she'd have to do more than stick her head into the family room and tell Fran to make sure AJ didn't get into the cookies; she was going upstairs to lie down because it had been a crazy day and her feet hurt.
Fran's right butt cheek began to vibrate. Baffled, Fran shifted to see if she'd sat on anything electronic and realized she'd been sitting on her cell, which she'd set to 'vibrate' when she got home from the mall. Chagrined, she pulled it out of her back pocket and flipped it open. She hated that she was the only one at school who didn't have those really awesome earbuds from Lumig, Inc. It was like the old Bluetooth, only way smaller and much cooler and you heard the calls and stuff in both ears, not just one. When she turned eighteen, she was getting earbuds and ditching the cell, total dinosaur that it was.
"Fran the Fabulous, at your service."
"The Lizard just called, looking for you. What didn't you, like, do this time?" The annoyance and resignation in Marcie's tone made Fran smile.
"Well, it started with AJ accusing me of trying to take a slice of the pie for dessert tonight when I went into the fridge for something to drink. Liz, of course, came running right out and was all over me and when I told her I didn't do anything, she immediately jumped on me about blaming AJ, and when I said I'd never said that, she's like, 'So who's taking pie; a ghost?' I swear, sometimes she's just totally dense."
"She's like that, like, most of the time, Fran." Marcie giggled.
"Not always, but sometimes I can't believe she managed to graduate university and get—and keep—a job as a teacher. Hello, have some common sense, please!"
"I, like, totally hear you. So is that it?"
"No. Before that she'd made some snide remark about making sure I took my shoes off, because someone with cars in the tread of their sneakers tracked mud across the living room carpet the other day, and when she was just getting started about the pie she asked me if I had anything to say and I told her it wasn't anything she'd believe and she gets on me for being disrespectful and talking back. I so wanted to tell her to shove it, but I just wanted to get out of there so I kept cool somehow and asked her what was disrespectful and that I could say I hadn't done anything AJ had accused me of but she'd already decided I was guilty so what was the point, and then Liz says I'm just like my 'bitch of a mother' and then got on me for accusing AJ of lying. Whatever. I told her there wasn't any way I could've been trying to take pie and then put away a plate and fork and knife and all that and gotten a soda from the fridge and leaned against the counter like I hadn't been doing anything in the time it took Liz to get into the kitchen after AJ shouted for her. She made the remark about a ghost getting into the pie then and I just totally lost and completely told her off."
Fran grinned. "It felt so good to finally tell Liz what I thought about her and AJ and how I'm sick of her whining and complaining about how I'm always home but she always makes me do everything and acts like me wanting to do homework is just an excuse to be lazy when she's the one who's always sitting around, complaining about how tired she is and how I'm so much more of a mother than she is and she acts like reading the kids a bedtime story makes her Mother of the Year. Oh! This was the best. I told her the reason I don't have a boyfriend is because Meredith, who Liz thinks can do no wrong, stole him and that Merrie's a total slut and when her parents think she's at the library, the only thing she's really studying is how to give good head or doing it doggy style. She looked totally gobsmacked for a moment before slapping me." Fran rubbed her cheek at the memory. "She told me to go to my room and she and my dad would decide what to do and I said that my dad's so pussywhipped he does whatever Liz wants and she's selfish and that she's the bitch, and my mom was forced into having me because Dad wouldn't get off her back and if he was surprised she didn't turn all maternal it was his own fault for not paying attention and that Liz isn't—oh, wait. I didn't say that."
"Didn't say, like, what?"
"That Liz isn't any more of a mother than my mom because both of them put more time and energy into their careers than being with their children and doing things with them, but at least my mom was honest about her priorities. Liz wants a perfect little family with smiling children and a gorgeous house and she's only interested in the happy, shiny moments and makes other people change diapers and handle tantrums and runny noses and when the kids throw up. Maybe I will tell her that the next time she gets on my back. I know she'll find some way to blame everyone and everything else for her choices and she'll explain away why she's not more involved with her kids and how always focusing on her teaching makes her a fabulous mother." Fran snorted. "Of course I'll be the wicked, evil stepdaughter making up horrible slander and she'll tell my dad what to do and he'll just parrot her. Maybe I'll quit just nodding and trying not to laugh at his pathetic spiel that makes it sound like he was actively involved in grounding me and making me watch the kids that weekend instead of going out. As if being stuck in the house is any different than usual."
"I know. I, like, feel so sorry for you. I'm, like, saving some money from, like, my job at the pretzel stand at the mall for when, like, you run away. It, like, won't be much but, like, every little bit helps, right? That's, like, what my dad always says."
"You are so fabulous! April said not to worry about the tickets or anything; she'd take care of all that, so go buy that really awesome dress you saw at The Bay last week that you look so hot in, or something. I really appreciate it, though. You're the best. I'll miss you so much."
"I am so glad we'll, like, be able to stay in touch with, like, those really fabulous new video phones with the big screens. You'll have one, right?"
"I'm sure April and Jen will have one. You know the only reason I use a cell is because Liz looks at all the bills and if she saw I wasn't using it she'd go through all my stuff to see if I was using earbuds, which I would be, and she'd give me hell for that and take them away, even though I'd have bought them for myself with the money I make tutoring. You know how much of my stuff she's taken I've had to get back. You're holding on to most of it."
"Good point. You'll, like, get earbuds when you're in Manitoba, right?"
"Of course! It's going to be so awesome. I can't wait! Not that I won't totally miss you like crazy, of course, but it'll be fabulous not to be like Cinderella and not having a pussywhipped dad and the Lizard and AJ around and actually having time to do my homework and have a life. That'll be the best part, having time to actually get out and do things. And not have to worry about Merrie Patterson stealing my boyfriend just because she can and having to hear from the Lizard and all her family how Merrie can do no wrong and the sun shines out of her ass."
"How do they, like, know if the sun shines out of her, like, ass? Did they, like, ask the football team if they, like, saw anything when they were, like, banging Merrie at that party, like, last Saturday?"
Fran moved the phone away from her face as she burst out laughing.
"Sorry, Marcie," Fran said, lifting the phone back to her mouth when she'd calmed down enough to speak. "Why didn't you tell me you went? Get any good pictures?"
"Fran, weren't you, like, listening to any of the gossip this week? The whole school, like, knows what—and who—went down Saturday night at, like, the kegger the football team had, like, on the other side of the ravine, like, behind Merrie's house, back just enough so, like, there were trees blocking the light of the bonfire and lanterns."
"I was just joking—but how would you know about the fire and the lights if you weren't there? Marcie, it's not nice to keep secrets from your best friend," Fran teased.
"Fran, if I, like, wanted to drink warm beer and, like, watch drunk guys gang bang an equally drunk slut, I'd, like, make Alan share his stash of, like, Labatt's and the MP3 player he, like, has all his porn loaded onto. The guys in the pornos are, like, so much better looking than, like, the boys at school and they, like, actually know how to screw."
"Marcie!" Fran's eyebrows shot up. "How would you know?"
"How do you, like, think?"
"You've watched your brother's porn?"
"Duh! Of course!"
"But how do you know the boys at school don't know how to screw?" Fran felt her cheeks grow hot.
"Because, like, I've heard what Merrie says about them and, like, she's hooked up with guys who go to university before, so she, like, would know."
Fran sighed and shook her head. "Yes, she definitely would. Someone should record her talking shit about the guys at school and play it over the PA system or something so the guys can hear."
"You're a genius! Alan's in the AV Club. I'll, like, threaten to tell our parents about his beer and, like, porno if he doesn't help us. This is, like, going to be so great!"
"I wasn't serious! Not totally, at least. There's no way I could be involved in something like that because if it got back to Merrie I'd had anything to do with it Hel would so totally break loose and Liz's entire family would kick my ass. If you're going to do it, and I'll definitely love you even more if you do, do not mention my name to your brother. As far as anyone but you and me will know, you came up with this whole thing on your own and I had nothing to do with it. Make sure Lizard's brother and his wife get a copy, too, if you manage to record Merrie talking about what a total skank she is."