Free Along Came Jordan by Brenda Maxfield Page B

sudden urge to bail overcame me. "Uh, you could do this alone," I said in a stilted voice.
    Jordan dropped the piece of cardboard he was holding, and his eyes found mine. "Why? You leaving?"
    I scrambled to my feet. "Yeah, my dad's coming." I stepped back, gave him a quick glance, ignored the question I saw in his eyes, and rushed out of the room.
    I burst into the hallway and slumped against the wall right outside the door. What was the matter with me? He'd think I was insane, fleeing like an endangered animal.
    I peeled myself from the wall and started toward the front door. Crap. I'd left my backpack in the supply room. No way was I going back in there.
    I cringed. I wasn't the kind who skipped homework, but everything else was changing these days, so why shouldn't that change, too?
    Dad wasn't outside and wouldn't be for another half hour. I was too restless to wait. Besides, if Jordan looked out and saw me, he'd know I was a liar. I'd start walking. It was a long way, and I'd never make it before Dad came to get me, but I knew the route he'd take. I could meet him halfway.
    A coating of ice covered the tree branches, and they crackled in the wind. I pulled my collar up and tried to shrink inside my coat like a turtle trying to hide. I wished I could hide. I wished I could put my whole life into hide mode and pretend nothing had changed. The wind blasted my face. I put my gloved hand across my mouth and part of my cheeks to create a makeshift shield. Didn't help much. Before long, I'd be an ice statue.
    Frozen patches along the sidewalk reflected the lowering sun. Soon, it'd be dark. It usually was dark before dinner these days. I hated short winter days. Last summer had been such a blast — swimming at the city pool, Farah sleeping over, family road trips, slurping up dripping ice cream cones, and watching black-and-white movies. I wanted to step into a time machine and go back to when life was easy and boring and I never wondered when Sarah would return to normal and start talking or how Dad was feeling or why Mom was late from work.
    My stomach twisted like a tangled rope. What was Mom doing, besides acting weird and secretive and angry twenty-four seven?
    The air bit at me, but I kept walking. Lights flipped on inside the houses I passed as it got darker and darker. A car horn blared and I jumped, almost falling. It blared again, longer, and I turned around to see Dad's silhouette through the windshield. I hadn't expected him to drive up from behind.

 
Chapter Seven
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    On my way to the curb, I slipped on the ice and slammed into the car door. I righted myself and climbed into the car.
    "What were you thinking?" Dad asked. "I've been waiting at the school. I'd still be there if some girl hadn't told me you'd left." He ran his hand through his hair, making it stick up into thorny spikes. "I thought you'd been kidnapped or something."
    "I was going to meet you halfway."
    Dad hit his hand on the steering wheel, and I jerked back. "I'm too angry to discuss this now. We'll talk later."
    I bit my lip. I should've called him — he was right to be mad.
    "Sorry, Dad," I said again. I sat still and stared at my gloves. He was silent, so I sneaked a peek sideways. He hadn't shaved and stubble protruded in bristling points from his tight jaw. His lips were pressed together. When he glanced at me, there was a sad droopiness around his eyes.
    I'd hurt his feelings.
    My throat swelled, and for a minute I was about to reach over and pat his shoulder. I stopped myself and swallowed hard, keeping my eyes down. He wouldn't want my pity. We were both quiet the rest of the way home.
    Dinner was a silent affair. All of us chewed and swallowed, not looking at one another. Anybody watching would have thought we were the most serious eaters in the world.
    When I was ready to take my plate to the sink, the doorbell rang. "I'll get it."
    Mom looked at me and nodded. Sarah and Dad were both intent on their next bite. I walked to