Free So Not Happening by Jenny B Jones

her mouth and sends up a whistle that could break glass.
    “Stop it!”
    The talking comes to a halt.
    The dirty looks do not.
    The petite teacher surveys the room, taking in every single student. Then she focuses on me. “Come with me. Yes, you.”
    I pick up my stuff and follow her down the hall.
    “Don't take this personally, dear, but the students cannot work with you in the room. You 're disturbing thc flow of creativity.”
    She smiles and pats my shoulder, then escorts me into the counselor's office. “Mrs. Kelso, I believe we need a schedule change here.”
    The counselor, a blonde woman with a mile-high stack of files on her desk, looks up. “Your name?”
    “I'm Mrs. Lee.”
    She sighs. “The student's name, Mrs. Lee.”
    “I'm Bella Kirkwood.”
    “Funny you stopped by.” The counselor leans back in her chair. “I've had a lot of students in my office since yesterday—very worked up and upset. Seems they all claim the same maladyBella Kirkwood.”

chapter twelve
    S unday morning finds me squished between Budge and Robbie in the backseat of the Tahoe. This is my first taste of the Finley family's church and, irony being what it is lately, of course the church is in the Truman High cafeteria. I'll be so busy reliving last Friday that I won't catch a word of the message.
    Or I'll be mesmerized by Robbie's Sunday attire. Surely he will be the only six-year-old wearing spandex pants and a Superman cape complete with inflatable chest.
    As soon as Jake stops the vehicle, Budge jumps out and disappears. He probably needs to discuss secret Halo strategies found in the book of Revelation.
    While Jake escorts his youngest to children's church, I keep my focus on the floor as Mom and I make our way to a row of seats. Smoothing my skirt, I sit down and open my program.
    Then I feel the stare.
    My eyes jerk to a man two rows in front of us. Chill bumps skitter across my skin.
    The bald man. The one who tried to give me a ride to school.
    He turns back around, suddenly immersed in his own program.
    “Mom.” I nudge her. “I, um ...” How do you tell your mom that you think her husband is up to something shady? He could be dealing crack. Working for the mafia. Selling half-price panty liners in back alleys. “I think something's going on with Jake.”
    “He has been a little stressed. But he's been working a lot of overtime lately.”
    Overtime? You have no idea.
    “Something's not right with him,” I whisper, glancing at the back of the bald man's head. “I saw him—”
    “Didn't think Robbie was going to turn loose of me.” Jake steps over me and sinks into the seat by my mom. “He changed his mind when the teacher broke out the Oreos.” He smiles at both of us.
    I see through you! I know you're hiding something, Mr. Tall and Sneaky.
    My stepdad introduces us to a few people nearby. I shake hands like I'm thrilled to be in a church. In a school. In a town that hates me.
    We sing a few contemporary choruses, then a middle-aged man in khakis and a plaid shirt walks to the podium.
    “Welcome to Truman Bible Church. I'm Pastor Wilkerson, and I'm glad you're here.”
    Oh, I'm thrilled too.
    “Today we're going to finish our series. We've been talking about something really important. Deception.”
    I hope Jake Finley is paying close attention.

    I spend the rest of Sunday talking to Hunter and Mia on the phone. Before I go to bed, my cell rings one more time.
    “Hey, kid!”
    I lean into my pillows. “Dad?” That voice . . . sounds so familiar. Could it be?
    “Who else? How's it going?”
    “Terrible.”
    “Now it can't be that bad. You want to talk had, I had to remove twenty pounds of excess skin from a woman yesterday. Try living with that.”
    “Yeah, right. My minor issues will never compare to those who undergo the almighty knife. Who valiantly fight the battle of the bulge or wage war on wrinkles.”
    He sighs. “I hear your sarcasm. You're frowning right now, aren't you? What did I tell you