Free Shattered Castles 1 : Castles on the Sand by E. M. Tippetts Page A

and-”
    Mom reaches into the cupboard and pulls out a small box, which she tosses onto the table. Condoms. “You bring boys in at night, you use those. I don't need another mouth to feed around here.”
    I stare down at the box, unsure what to say for a moment.
    “And don't ever send your brother around to bother me again. He's dead to me. I don't need him criticizing how I live my life.”
    “What did he do? Preach?”
    “He didn't like me buying those. Said that having overnight guests set a bad example for you. So I told him they were for you-”
    “You told him you bought these for me?”
    “Mhm.”
    “Was this during the really loud fight outside Jacksons?” My cheeks burn with embarrassment.
    “No. It was before that part. But you will use those and not get pregnant. We clear?”
    “Mom, I am not ready for anything like that.”
    “I was eighteen when I had my first baby, so don't give me some silly excuse about not being ready.”
    “I didn't mean-”
    “I'm gonna hit the hay.” She walks off as if she hasn't even heard me and goes to her room.
    I go back into my room and put the box of condoms in my desk drawer, then wonder if I should have one on me at all times, as random as that sounds. It's what they tell us to do in health class. Knowing me, though, I'd pull something else out of my pocket and it'd go flying and probably hit some cute guy in the forehead. Best to just leave them where they are.
     
    A couple of hours later, a tap on my window wakes me up. No, I think, not now. Whoever it is, I don't want to see them.
    “Madison?” It isn't Kailie's voice, or Jean-Pierre's. I glance at my clock and see that it's only ten thirty.
    “Who is it?” I say.
    “It's Carson.”

 
     
     
     
     

    I get to my knees, pull the curtain aside, and flip the window latch. Carson stands in the rock garden, his hands in the pockets of his khakis, looking like a total preppie, which he is, I guess. Our school is well funded enough to be almost like a prep school. “How’s your nose?” he asks.
    “It hurts,” I say.
    “Yeah, I can imagine.”
    I touch my face, gingerly, then fold my arms.
    “John told me the gist of what happened. Maybe it's time to get a new best friend?”
    “You don't know the whole story.”
    “Nobody deserves what you got. Did you report her to the police?”
    “What? No.”
    “You should think about it.”
    “Sure. I'll think about it.” There's no way I'm reporting my best friend to the police. I look past Carson to the street.
    He glances over his shoulder. “Hmm?”
    “Did you walk here?”
    “Yeah. I thought, you know, bringing the MAV woulda been kinda excessive.”
    “You call it the MAV?”
    “Yeah. Doesn't everyone?”
    “You live clear down at the other end of town.”
    “My family all go to bed at eight.” At my baffled stare, he adds, “Because, you know, we have Seminary in the mornings.”
    “Seminary?”
    “Yeah, religion class before school. That's why all of us LDS students arrive in the MAV... what, did you think we just did that to be... um...” He stares at me.
    “Weird?”
    “Yeah, which we are. But not in a hive mind, we go everywhere together kind of way.”
    “How does your family run a restaurant if you go to bed at eight?”
    “Well, okay, our parents manage the restaurant and get home at about one and our grandmother watches us but she's deaf as a post.” He shrugs. “So I have until one before I get caught. Anyway... what are you doing?”
    I'm across the room now and turn to look at him again, a pair of jeans and a clean shirt draped over my arm. “Just let me change. I'll come out.”
    “You don't have to do that.”
    “Please. You walked, like, three miles to get here.” And, I think, I'm not inviting you in. That would be extra weird. I go into the bathroom, switch clothes and then return to my room to put on my jacket and climb out the window.
    He looks at me, then down at himself. “So... what do people normally do when