Storms 01 - Family Storms

fun. I had never laughed and screamed so much.
    After lunch, we went to Indiana Jones and then to Alice in Wonderland. Both Ricky and Boyd were ecstatic when I voted with them on best attraction and created a tie. The girls weren’t upset. We joked about it and finished the day by going to the 3-D show of
Honey, I Shrunk the Kids.
I had not even looked at the time once and was shocked to see that it was nearly six-thirty. There was no question now that we would not be home for dinner. Kiera didn’t seem at all nervous or upset about it. On the way home, we stopped at one of Deidre’s favorite restaurants. By the time Ricky drove through the Marches’ gate, it was nearly nine-fifteen.
    No one worried about doing homework. In fact, nothing about school had been mentioned all day until Ricky said he’d see me the next day at school. Kiera and I got out and watched them drive off. I felt exhausted, but it was a happy sort of exhaustion that I would welcome again and again. I thanked Kiera. She had paid for everything for me, of course.
    “Ricky seems to genuinely like you,” she commented as we opened the door. “He’s usually very critical of younger girls.”
    I basked in the compliment, but only for an instant, because Mrs. March came marching out of the living room with a look of anger I had not seen before.
    “Earthquake coming,” Kiera whispered.
    “How dare you keep Sasha out all day and have her miss dinner?” she began. “Your father is too angry to come out of his office.”
    “She didn’t miss dinner. We stopped on the way home.”
    “I don’t mean that, and you know I don’t mean that, Kiera. We worked out our travel schedule so we could have dinner together when we returned. And why didn’t you answer your cell phone? Either of you?” she asked, looking at me.
    “I didn’t have mine with me,” I said.
    “Come to think of it, neither did I,” Kiera said. “Everyone I wanted to talk to today was with us, anyway.”
    That brought blood into Mrs. March’s face. For a moment, rage choked her throat, and she couldn’t speak. Then she looked at me again. “What are you wearing? Where did you get those clothes?”
    “They’re mine,” Kiera said.
    “I never saw them before. Those shorts are inappropriate.”
    “Please, Mother, don’t be a prude.”
    “And they’re surely not warm enough.”
    “They were,” Kiera said. “We weren’t exactly on a hiking and camping outing. Can we go upstairs now? We both have homework.”
    “I’m very disappointed,” Mrs. March said, stepping back. She was saying it mostly to me.
    “You wouldn’t have been if you had come along. Disneyland was great today. The lines weren’t that long and …”
    “Go to your room, Kiera. We’ll discuss this tomorrow,” Mrs. March said.
    I lowered my head and followed Kiera to the stairway.
    “My father’s not as angry as she claims he is,” she whispered as we went up. “Otherwise, he’d be out here, too.”
    I didn’t say anything. The look of disappointment on Mrs. March’s face was not only sobering, it was a little frightening. Maybe now all her of kindness and generosity would end. Perhaps she no longer saw me as being as good and as nice as her Alena. If anyone had told me months ago that I would fear being sent away, I would have practically laughed because it seemed such a ridiculous possibility. How could I ever get to care much about being with the girl who was driving the car that night or the family that protected her? All of the gifts, the money, the clothes, and the wonderful new school would not buy my forgiveness.
    “Don’t worry,” Kiera said, seeing my silence and concern. “She won’t be as angry tomorrow. That’s the way she is.”
    “I’d better finish my homework,” I said, and hurried to my bedroom.
    When I entered it, I felt even worse. It was as if I had let down Alena as much as Mrs. March.
I thought you were going to be me for my mother,
her picture said to me.
I’d never have done that.
    Looking at myself in Kiera’s clothes suddenly disgusted me. I took them off as quickly as I could and put on one of Alena’s nightgowns before getting to my homework. It took me so long to finish that there was no time to practice the clarinet. I was so bleary-eyed by then anyway that I couldn’t stay awake and, in fact, overslept.
    Mrs. March came in to wake me. “You’ll have to rush,” she said, and then she just left without another word.
    I got up quickly. I