Free Between the Notes by Sharon Huss Roat Page B

defined, explanations of what was really going on. I flipped to the front cover to see if James had signed his named, but found only the initials J.A.R.
    I closed it tenderly and returned it to the shelf, gathering mystuff to go. But something called me back. I don’t know if it was the secret feeling of the room or my new life of secrets, but I wanted to know more about the owner of that book. I took out a pencil and scrawled a note under the initials.
    And what do you read for fun?
    I smiled as I closed the book again and left. I avoided the stairwell where I’d seen Lennie yesterday, got my bike, and pedaled home as close to happy as I’d been all week.
    Mom was sitting on the living room floor with papers spread out around her and all over the coffee table. She looked up as if she hadn’t been expecting me and quickly scooped everything into a pile.
    “What’s all that?” I asked.
    “Nothing.” She shoved it all into one of those brown accordion folders. “Just paperwork.”
    “Bills?”
    She smiled. “Nothing for you to worry about.”
    My stomach twisted. That was what she’d been saying for months. I knew better than to believe her now.
    “Mom—”
    “How was your day?” she asked brightly.
    I told her what she wanted to hear. “It was great, Mom. Really great.”
    She sighed as if the weight of the world had lifted. “I’m so gladto hear that. Things have a way of working out, don’t they?”
    She disappeared into her bedroom with the papers, and I wondered what bad news they might contain. We’d already lost our house and most of our possessions. How much worse could it get?
    The next morning I gazed longingly at some of my cute skirts and dresses and boots but again chose a more cycling-friendly outfit instead: a pair of skinny jeans, my Converse sneaks, a vintage T-shirt, and hoodie. My new uniform.
    Mom and Dad were already in the kitchen when I went down, arguing in hushed tones. I stopped and stood on the middle stair.
    “Please tell me we didn’t lose everything for . . . for nothing,” said Mom.
    “If we get the university contract, we’ll be fine,” said Dad.
    “And if we don’t?”
    “Something will turn up.”
    My mother was making coffee, noisily slamming the pot into place. “You’ve been saying that for weeks, Mark. And look what turned up.”
    The step I was standing on suddenly creaked, and their conversation came to a halt. When I arrived in the kitchen, it was all sunshine and roses again.
    “Hey, princess.” Dad smiled in his usual way, but I could see the sadness in it now. I wondered how long he’d been hiding it.
    “Hey, Daddy,” I said, snarfing down the jelly toast Mom offered. “Gotta go!” I left before the twins were up. Another sign my parents were distracted by their financial woes? They hadn’t even noticed how obscenely early I was leaving for school.
    It was my third day on the Schwinn, and everything was going okay until one mile into my ride, a car zoomed past so close I swore it brushed my arm. Someone thrust a hand out the window and gestured at me with an angry fist. Jerks. Like it would kill them to share the road with my elbow, which was the only part of me that might have crossed the white line. I gripped the handlebars tighter and veered to the side, leaving plenty of room between me and the car lane. But the loose, gravelly surface of the shoulder sent my wheels skittering and sliding. I swerved back onto the smooth road to get control of the bike.
    Another car came up behind me, and I slowed to let it pass. Black BMW. What were the chances James took this road to school? Small, I told myself. Minuscule. He had to live in Westside Falls. Still, watching it go up the hill in front of me was enough to take my eyes off the road long enough that I didn’t notice the rainwater drainage grate coming up in front of me. And when I did, it was too late.
    My front tire dropped through the metal slats to a jarring halt, slamming me into the