Free #5 Not What I Expected by Laurie Friedman Page A

she left and told him he should or if he just thought he should. “I saw Matt and Libby last night,” he said without wasting any time on hellos. “Is that why you left?” he asked.
    â€œYep.”
    â€œMatt’s a jerk,” said Harry.
    I let out a breath. “You’ve said that before.”
    â€œAnd I was right.”
    Harry was trying to make me feel better. I appreciated his loyalty, and he was right. Matt is a jerk. But he has a sweet side too. He was so cute when he asked me out that day at the beach and when he used to hang out with me and my sisters and do things like rake pine needle houses or play Monopoly.
    I don’t even know why I’m thinking about all that. Whether Matt is a jerk or sweet, or some of both, doesn’t erase the fact that I watched him make out at a party with another girl.
    That hurt.
    Sunday, November 2, 6:45 p.m.
    In a downward spiral
    While I was walking Gilligan today, Matt came outside. He didn’t have Matilda with him, so it wasn’t like he went outside to walk his dog. He caught up to me like he had something he wanted to say to me. For once, he spoke first. “It was kind of creepy how you were staring at Libby and me.”
    I couldn’t believe what he’d said or that he used the word creepy to describe me. Creepy was being confronted on my street when I was walking my dog. “I wasn’t staring at you.” I wanted my words to sound angry, not defensive. I’m not sure Matt picked up on it.
    He shrugged. “It seemed like you were.”
    I couldn’t believe how insensitive he was being. “I wasn’t staring. I was surprised. I wasn’t expecting to see you at a party making out with another girl.”
    Matt pursed his lips. “You know we broke up.”
    â€œI know,” I said with a big nod—like, of course I know. Then I grabbed Gilligan by the leash, turned, and walked home.
    There were a lot of things I should have said. I’m glad. You’re a jerk. Wish we’d never gone out in the first place. But I didn’t. I think I was too shocked. It was the most Matt Parker had ever had to say.
    I never thought I’d say this, but I like him more when he’s quiet.
    8:17 p.m.
    Things just keep getting worse. When I got out of the shower, Mom was in my room sitting on my bed. “April, can you come into the den, please? Dad and I would like to talk to you.”
    â€œI have a towel on.” I gestured to the water still dripping down from my hair.
    â€œDry off and put on your pajamas,” said Mom. “We’ll be waiting.”
    When I got there, May and June were already sitting on the couch. I sat beside them and eyed my parents. Mom and Dad were both standing, and Dad had his arms crossed. They both looked tense, especially Dad. “Why are we having a family conference?” I asked.
    Mom looked like she was glad someone had asked that question, though my intention hadn’t been to be helpful. I mainly just wanted out of there.
    â€œGirls, your father and I want to talk to you,” said Mom. “I have an opportunity to present my line to a store in Atlanta at the end of the month. It would be a huge deal if they carry my clothes.” She paused and looked at Dad. His face was expressionless.
    This was old news to me.
    Mom continued. “It’s going to mean a lot of work for me over the next few weeks. I’m going to need all of you to pitch in and help out.” Then, as she talked about how she would be working day and night to get the clothes ready in time, and that it would mean I’d be taking care of May and June while she was at the store and Dad was at the diner, my mind blanked. I don’t even know what all she said.
    â€œGot it?” I heard Mom say. She was done talking and looking at me.
    â€œI got it,” I said.
    But it doesn’t mean I like it.
    Monday, November 3, 11:14 a.m.
    Study Hall
    This morning I