Free Out of the Box by Michelle Mulder Page A

“I finished sooner than expected. How are you doing?”
    â€œUh, fine,” I say, closing the window and logging out before she can see what I’ve been reading. I grab my own backpack and stand up.
    â€œI can wait a bit, if you like,” she says, appraising my empty bag. I haven’t even looked for books yet, but I don’t feel like it now anyway. How can I think about reading when my own aunt is trying to pull my family apart?
    I clasp my hands together to stop them from shaking. “It’s okay. I’ve still got a few books at home to read. Mostly I wanted to check my email.” I meet her eyes. “I got a message from Mom.”
    â€œOh?”
    We walk to the main exit in silence. Outside, she asks what the email said.
    â€œShe thinks I’m angry at her because we never actually finish a conversation these days.” I kick a stone in my path. Hard. “She probably assumes I’ve asked you to take the phone away every evening.”
    Jeanette sighs. “Look, Ellie, I’ve told your mother exactly what I’ve told you: that I think she needs professional help, and that I think you need some space. I asked her to stop telling you all her problems and suggested she look for a psychologist.”
    I feel like shoving her against the wall and demanding that she use her brain. “If you’re so worried about her, why make everything worse by making her think I’m mad at her?”
    â€œHold on there,” she says, stopping to face me. “I didn’t make her think anything. After you and I discussed the whole mental-health thing, I told her what we had talked about and requested that she not rely on you for emotional support. From there, she jumped to her own conclusions.”
    â€œOf course she did,” I say. “She probably thinks I’m the one who decided she’s crazy and that I don’t want anything to do with her.” It sounds illogical when it comes out of my mouth, but I know my mother.
    â€œIf she thinks that, then it’s not because I haven’t explained.” Jeanette bites her lip and is silent for a second. “You know, you could have refused to give me the phone. I wouldn’t have forced you to give it to me.”
    Fire surges into my cheeks, and I glare at her. How dare she make it sound like I’m the one who wants to abandon my parents?
    She meets my eyes. “I’m worried about you, Ellie. I think you need a break, and I’m trying to provide that for you. You seem to have blossomed this summer—making friends with Sarah, learning to play the bandoneón, getting to know Victoria on your own. I don’t want you to backtrack when you go home.”
    â€œWhat do you know about how things work in my family?”
    She stares at me in shocked silence. Until this moment “my family” has always included her. I know my words cut deep, but she’s brought it on herself.
    She’s asking me to pick favorites, and she should know that’s a dangerous game to play.

F OURTEEN
    â€œD ad, it’s me.”
“Hi, honey.” Dad hates talking on the phone, so we haven’t spoken at all since I left home. But I still expected him to sound happier to hear from me. Maybe I’ve caught him in the middle of something. Maybe he and Mom are working out the details of their divorce. “How’s Victoria?”
    I describe my adventures with Sarah and meeting Michael and Steve. I do not mention that Sarah has been talking about Michael and Steve almost nonstop since. She sees them as her “in” at Vic Middle. I tell myself it’s ridiculous to feel left out when of course they’ll be more useful to her than I ever could be.
    â€œThat’s great, Ellie,” my father says.
    â€œHow are you doing, Dad?” I ask. “Mom says she’s worried about you.”
    â€œOh, I’m okay,” he says. “Pretty busy with