“You’ll at least be here this weekend?”
Ada nodded. My mother got up, awkwardly patted her on the head and left the kitchen for upstairs.
“What the hell?” I said, turning to Ada.
She shrugged. “I know. Why do I have to stay home this whole weekend?”
“No, Ada. What the hell did mom mean about my head?”
An innocent look came over Ada’s big kohl-rimmed eyes. “I don’t know, do I look like mom or something? She’s probably worried you’re going to lose your passport or wallet or plane tickets or phone or whatever else you seem to lose on a daily basis.”
“No.” I slowly shook my head. “It was something else. She can’t let go of the past.”
“Maybe it has something to do with how easily you’re able to lie to them. What was all that crap about your boss letting you have time off and how she ‘believed’ in your show or whatever? That’s totally gonna bite you in the ass later. And I’m not having any part of it.”
“Oh, like you’re all perfect. You don’t even have a job and yet I see these $400 dollar shoes on you every weekend. And don’t tell me it’s all from blog advertising because I know you don’t make that much yet.”
“You don’t know anything,” Ada said quickly and started gathering the rest of the dishes from the table.
“I know you have a massive credit card bill,” I admitted rather viciously. I took in a deep breath. My sister’s shopping addiction and debt was honestly none of my business but for some reason I felt like being vindictive.
She put the dishes down on the counter with a loud clatter but didn’t turn around.
“And I know you’re a month behind in your minimum payments. And if you don’t get a handle on that soon, it’s going to come around and bite you in the ass.”
She whipped around, all bleached hair and hell-bent teenage fury. “You snooping through my stuff now?”
“I was looking for my Rush concert tee in your drawer when I came across your little secret mail stash. I wasn’t snooping. I saw the statement like that.”
That was the truth. What was also the truth was I found a box of condoms in there as well. Let me tell you, there is nothing more frightening than seeing proof that your 15-year old sister might be having sex. But that was a topic of conversation for some other time.
“So what, you going to tell mom and dad now?” she said stiffly though I could see palpable fear in her eyes.
I got up and brought my dishes over. I leaned against the counter and folded my arms. It was hard to look authoritative when you were only 5’2” and your younger sister was a good four inches taller than you.
“No. I’m not going to tell them. It’s none of my business. I just wish you’d come to me if you were in some sort of financial trouble.”
Ada laughed and started rinsing the dishes. “Oh yeah, like you could help me with my finances. You don’t even have a job.”
“Well, actually, the part about me getting paid to do the show was true, so technically I do have a job. It’s just not a lucrative one. But the point is you should come and talk to me, whether you think I can help you or not.”
I know Ada and I hadn’t been very close and even though I certainly felt more like a sister to her over the last month or so, we still had a long ways to go. But I knew the first step was to start treating each other as allies instead of enemies. To me, that meant being able to trust each other. Even if it was just us trying to fool our parents in one way or another, it would be nice to have a partner in crime.
“Okay,” she said slowly. “I’ll try and remember that next time.”
We left it at that and spent the rest of the time doing the dishes and cleaning up while making the occasional joke or gossiping about celebrities. It was a nice, comfortable evening to have before I was tossed into the wild unknowns of New Mexico, poltergeists, and Dex.
CHAPTER THREE
My flight to Albuquerque took off at 7PM, which meant I could have easily asked one of my parents to drive me to the airport. I opted to be stubborn though, and biked my way there. My carry-on bag was small enough that I was able to strap it to Putt-Putt with ease and I really didn’t feel like being trapped in a car with my parents. I knew they were brimming with lectures ever since I told them about the trip and I didn’t want to have to lie anymore about anything job-related. I hated to admit it but Ada was right. My lies would come back to bite me in the ass one day.
It was a little sad though, as well as nerve-wracking, that I was boarding the plane by myself with no one to see me off. I watched people saying goodbye to their loved ones before they went through security and saw couples waving to each other through the window. It pinched at me, just a little bit, that I didn’t have that in my life.
It also reminded me of the last time I was on a plane. Dex had been waving goodbye to me, only to get in his car and go home to his girlfriend.
Ah, yes. Jennifer Rodriguez. The girlfriend. I never met the woman and had no idea what she was like (except from a few rather cryptic comments from Dex), but I didn’t like her. I don’t even know why she boiled my blood so much, there was just something about her. This wasn’t anything new with me – I tended to hate on a lot of people for no apparent reason. But it bothered me more than most.
I thought it was because she was Dex’s girlfriend and it alerted some internal competition mode. But lately my feelings toward Dex were more annoyed than lustful and I didn’t feel jealous when I thought of them together (thank God, because the last thing I wanted was to be drooling over Dex again). No, I think Jennifer got under my skin because she represented everything that I wasn’t. She was a successful host. She was tall, thin, gorgeous, and exuded this glowing sexuality that I couldn’t possibly fake in a million years. I had the feeling she was one of those types that never had to work a day in her life and people were always bending over just to wipe her ass. She probably shit gold, too.
So she embodied everything I hated and everything I wasn’t – yet in the back of my mind, she was something I strived to be. How sick was that?
Thankfully these thoughts didn’t occupy my mind the entire three-hour flight, as obsessive as I was about things. I had given myself plenty of time to get nervous and worked up too.
There was just so much pressure for us to get everything right this time. No one gets things right the first time, so any shortcomings we had with the pilot episode (and there were many) were totally justifiable. But if we messed up this time, we had no excuses. Not only did I need to know what I was talking about, I also had to look like I knew what I was talking about. The books would help with that first part, but the real problem came with self-confidence. That would be very hard for me to fake.