Free Prom by Laurie Halse Anderson

Marie. Stupid and dangerous. You coulda got in all kinds of trouble.”
    “Yeah, whatever,” I said. “I won’t do it again.”
    “Better not.” He picked soggy bits of wallpaper from the brush. “And you should cut TJ some slack.”
    “I’ll think about it. Where is Ma?”
    “She’s, ah, spending the night at Linny’s.”
    “Why?” I put down the soda. “She’s not in labor, is she?”
    “No such luck.” A piece of wallpaper slid down the wall. “Damn.”
    “So why is she at Aunt Linny’s?”
    He tossed the scrub brush in the bowl. Water sloshed over the side and dripped on the floor. Dad pulled out a chair and sat down across from me. “She’s a little irritated, with, um . . .”
    “She’s pissed because you guys totally trashed the kitchen.”
    “You could say that.”
    “Ma went nuclear.”
    “Pretty much, yeah. She went to Linny’s to cool down. It might take a few days.”
    I pushed my soda across to him. He chugged it and tossed the can in the trash.
    “Sucks to be you.”
    He got up, opened the utensil drawer, and pulled out all the big spoons. “I’m sorry, princess.”
    “Why? It’s not my kitchen.”
    He took a spatula out of the drawer and dumped the spoons back in. “Not about this, about your bedroom.”
    “They trashed my room, too?”
    He held up the spatula. The handle was bent. “No, your new room. Downstairs. Fixing this is going to take a while.”
    “Fixing that spatula?”
    “No. The kitchen.” He used the spatula to scrape off a piece of wallpaper. “When I’m done stripping this, I’m going to give it a coat of primer and then paint it. Then I’ll have to do the rest of the kitchen so it matches, or your mother will have my head on a platter. Your room ain’t gonna be done before the baby shows up. That’s what I’m sorry for.”
    “Don’t worry about it. I was thinking maybe I could look for an apartment or something.”
    He snorted. “That’s a good one, Ash. You, out on your own.” He pulled the trash can closer. “You feel like helping me get this paper off?”
    “Not really.”
    “So that means you’ll get your brothers ready for school in the morning.”
    “You’re worse than Ma, you know that?” I put my hand out for the spatula. “Give me that thing.”
    By the time we were done, the wall looked like it had been through a car wash. Dad said he knew a guy who knew a guy who could get him some primer for cheap. I said whatever, I needed some sleep, and it was after midnight.

61.
    I woke up in the middle of an earthquake. No, wait. Not an earthquake. Natalia Shulmensky, flipped-out best friend, was shaking me like the house was on fire.
    “You.” Shake . “Have.” Shake. “To.” Shake . “Get.” Shake . “Up.” Shake. “Now.”
    “Go away.”
    “We.” Shake . “Have.” Shake. “To.” Shake . “Go.” She shined a flashlight in my eyes.
    “You’re crazy. Good night.”
    “Come.” Shake . “On.” Shake . “Ow!”
    I smacked her hands and sat up. “What time is it?”
    “Time to go.”
    I uncrossed my eyes and looked at Billy’s Spider-Man alarm clock. “It’s quarter to five! In the freakin’ morning!”
    Billy moaned in his sleep.
    “Be quiet,” Nat hissed. “You’ll wake him up.”
    “I’ll wake him up? I’ll wake him up? Nattie, you know I love you, but I need to kill you right now.”
    Billy sat up. “Ashley?”
    Nat turned off the flashlight and crouched next to my bed. “Sorry I woke you, Billy-boy.” I gave Nat a little kick. “Go back to sleep, honey.”
    Billy flopped back on his pillow.
    Nat handed me a pair of sweatpants from the pile of almost-dirty clothes on the floor. “I’ll explain in the car,” she whispered.
    I pulled on the sweats. “You’re acting like your grandmother, you know.”
    “What’s wrong with that?”
    “She’s crazy.”
    “She’s not as crazy as you think. Come on.”

62.
    As soon as I buckled my seat belt, Nat handed me a cup of coffee with a lid and