Free 37 Things I Love (In No Particular Order) by Kekla Magoon

here?” The traitor.
    “Ellis, be polite.”
    I whirl on Mom. “Are you going to ground me, or what?”
    “No, I’m not going to ground you.”
    “Why not?” I should be relieved, but instead I feel this trembling ache. There’s supposed to be yelling. There’s supposed to be punishment. There’s supposed to be some sign that when I put myself in harm’s way, somebody cares and doesn’t want me to do it again.
    “Because you told me you didn’t do anything wrong,” Mom says.
    I breathe. This is rational. This is okay. “Well, I didn’t.”
    “All right, then. But just so you know, we’re going to see the doctor this afternoon.”
    I freeze. “Which doctor?”
    “The therapist I told you about.”
    Not what I had feared, but only a little bit better. “I thought the appointment was next week.”
    “I moved it up.”
    Here it comes. “Do we have to discuss this in front of her ?” I say. Mrs. Scottie doesn’t appear to be paying attention. Click, clack. Click, clack.
    Mom shrugs. “We don’t have any secrets from Mrs. Scottie.”
    “Evidently.” I cut a glance toward her, and I swear she’s hiding a smile. “But some things should be discussed in private.”
    “It’s not a discussion.”
    “I’m not going.”
    Mom puts out her hands. “I can’t,” she says. “I can’t do this.” She looks to Mrs. Scottie for help. “I can’t … stay up any longer.”
    She retreats into the hallway.
    “I don’t need a doctor!”
    The only answer is the sound of her bedroom door closing.
    *   *   *
    CLICK , CLACK . CLICK , CLACK .
    It’s Mrs. Scottie and me now. Just us, like usual.
    “You can go,” I tell her. “I don’t need a babysitter.”
    Click, clack. Click, clack. “The light is better over here.”
    I know for a fact this is untrue. “Just go, okay? Haven’t you done enough damage for one day?”
    Click, clack. Click, clack. “I don’t know what you mean by that, dear.”
    “You ratted me out!” I fume. “I thought we were friends.”
    “We are.”
    “You really know how to show it.”
    “I can see that you’re angry, dear, but—”
    “Angry? Why should I be angry? It’s not like I’m in any trouble.” But I’m so mad, my legs have gone stiff. It’s easy to yell at someone who’s right in front of you.
    “It could’ve been worse,” she says matter-of-factly. “I neglected to tell them you girls had been drinking.”
    “Gee, thanks for your discretion. Anyway, they guessed.” I pause. “Wait, how do you even know that?”
    Mrs. Scottie smiles. “It’s been a long life, Ellis, dear. I know things.”
    The knowing smile only sets me off. “Why do you have to butt in where you’re not wanted?”
    Click, clack. Click, clack.
    “Why?” I shout.
    Click, clack. Click, clack.
    “I hate you,” I scream at the top of my lungs. “Do you have any idea how much I hate you?”
    Click, clack. Click, clack. “I’m terribly sorry to hear that, dear.”
    Mrs. Scottie looks up at me. She sighs and reaches deep into her lap until she finds the end of her knitting. The whole mess is shoved aside, and now that she’s ready, suddenly I’m wailing in her arms.

16
    Rain on a Stained-Glass Window
    Beautiful and sad—it always matches the way you’re feeling.
    THE RAIN SOAKS my hair and skin, but I don’t stop walking. After everything that’s gone wrong today, I just need to see Dad.
    It’s not complicated. Really. I don’t see why Mom has so much trouble understanding why I come here.
    I forgo the bus because I need time to focus. I want to be alone, alone, until I get to Dad.
    But there’s damage control to be done. I text Colin:
    last night was messed up.
    I wonder if Abby’s gotten to him first. She’s grounded, which means her dad has confiscated her phone, but she typically manages to find a way around things like that.
    Colin’s reply message makes me wish I hadn’t bothered reaching out.
    so i heard. wtf?
    I don’t want to get into the details