Free When Lightning Strikes by Meg Cabot Page A

It
had
been him. I remembered the way he'd gone so pale beneath those freckles. It had been Sean, all right.
    And if I'd been right about Sean …
    The first break I got, I was on the pay phone by the ladies' room, on hold with 1-800-WHERE-R-YOU. I couldn't believe they'd put me on hold. How many people could be calling in on a Saturday afternoon? Jeesh. I only got a five-minute break, and I hadn't even gone to the bathroom yet. The minutes were ticking by, and a family had come in and sat down at one of the tables I hadn't bused yet. They were sitting there, pushing all the empty glasses and used plates into this big, precarious pile. I swear to God, people do not know how to act.
    Finally, this woman picked up and asked how she could help me. I went, "Rosemary?"
    "No," the woman said. She was white and Southern, I could tell. "Rosemary's not in today. This is Judith. How may I help you?"
    I said, "Oh, well, I think I know where these two kids are. Um, Hadley Grant and Timothy Jonas Mills?"
    Judith went, "Oh?" in this way suspicious voice.
    "Yeah," I said. The family at the table I still hadn't bused was starting to look around in an angry way. One of their kids had tried to drink the leftover ice in one of the used glasses. "Look, Hadley's at—" And I gave her the exact address, which happened to be in Florida. "—and Timothy's in Kansas." I gave her the street address. "Did you get all that?"
    "Excuse me, miss," Judith said. "Are you the—"
    I said, "Sorry, gotta go," and hung up, mostly because the family was starting to pile the dirty plates on a table that had just opened up beside theirs, but also because I thought Judith had been about to yell at me about Sean and Olivia, and that I did not need.
    But after I hung up, I felt better. Just like yesterday. I felt like a weight had been lifted off me.
    At least until Pat told me I couldn't bus anymore, and sent me in the back to wash dishes.
    The rest of the weekend passed pretty much without incident. On Saturday night, Ruth came over, and this time she actually brought her cello. We played a concerto, then watched some videos she'd rented. Mike came down for a little while and teased us about our taste in movies. Ruth only likes movies that have a beauty makeover in them. Like
Pretty Woman
, when Julia Roberts gets all the clothes. I tend to like movies with explosions. There's only a few movies that have both.
Point of No Return
, with Bridget Fonda, is about the only one. We've seen that movie nine times.
    Douglas popped in, too, for a few minutes, on his way to the kitchen to dump off some cereal bowls that had been in his room for a few weeks. He watched the movie for a little while, but then my mom caught him, and started asking if he felt all right. So he had to run back upstairs and hide.
    Around eleven o'clock, I could have sworn I heard the purr of Rob Wilkins's Indian outside our house. But when I looked out the window, there was no one there. Wishful thinking, I guess. He was probably totally freaked-out by what an inexperienced kisser I am, and would never ask me out again.
    Oh, well. His loss.
    Sunday, after church, my dad dumped us off at Mastriani's to help with the brunch crowd. Well, me and Mike, anyway. Douglas doesn't have to go to church anymore. Instead, he stays home and reads comic books. I know Douglas is sick and all, but I wouldn't mind staying home on Sunday morning and reading comic books. Or watching TV, even. But I never tried to kill myself, so I have to go to church. And I have to go in a dress that matches my mother's.
    It's enough to make a girl think there might not actually be a God.
    The only thing that happened on Sunday was that we ran out of milk, and my mom sent me and Mike to the store to buy some. Mike let me drive on the way there, but then, on the way back, he totally wouldn't let me near the wheel. But you know, I think speed limits are really just suggestions. If there's nobody else on the road, you should be able to go