Free Zigzag by Ellen Wittlinger Page A

a bad smell, though. Just hay.”
    â€œHay? I’ve got hay fever!” He looked at me furiously as ifI’d invented hay, and then stalked off out the door.
    Iris had strolled farther into the barn and was swinging around a post, arching her back and letting her head fall back. It reminded me of when I was younger and liked to pretend I was being filmed for a movie. I’d throw my body around very dramatically, thinking I looked beautiful. That was shortly before puberty hit.
    Iris looked at me as I came closer. “He doesn’t have hay fever. He’s just nuts. He thinks he’s going to get sick all the time now. Or something awful is going to happen any minute. Ever since Dad got hit by the car.”
    I nodded.
    â€œMom took him to a shrink, but Marsh freaked out even more. He’s getting really psycho.”
    â€œI doubt that,” I said. “It’s only been, what, seven months?”
    â€œEight.”
    â€œWell, he’s still upset about it.”
    â€œDuh!”
    Oh, this girl was impossible. I decided it was best to just ignore her and turned around to go back inside, but she wasn’t finished with me yet.
    â€œMy mom says your boyfriend left you. Some guy you’re in love with.”
    I bent down and picked up Hermit so I’d have something to do with my hands other than punch out my cousin.
    â€œHe didn’t ‘leave’ me. He’s on a program in Rome for the summer.”
    â€œSo, are you in love with him?” Iris’s mouth was hanging open just a little bit, as if she couldn’t wait to eat my answer with a spoon.
    â€œYes, I am,” I said, trying to sound sure of myself. No reason to go into detail for this little punk.
    She gave a snort. “I have a boyfriend, too. I’m going with thisguy Parker. I’ll probably break up with him when I get back, though.”
    â€œWhy didn’t you just break up with him before you left?” I kept my eyes on Hermit.
    â€œSo he couldn’t date anybody else while I was gone.”
    â€œNice. You’re very devious for your age.”
    â€œMy therapist says I’m mature beyond my years.”
    â€œ Something beyond your years. I don’t know if it’s mature.”
    She sighed disgustedly. “Ooh, Farm Girl, you’re so funny. What kind of farm is this, anyway—you don’t even have any cows!” She swung off the pole and sailed past me out the door.
    I gave Hermit a hug and asked him how on earth I was supposed to spend my summer with these aliens, but he didn’t have a clue either. I decided to go back inside and sit with Mom and Dory who were, at least, human beings. As I passed Dory’s minivan I saw Marshall sitting in the backseat, a big tablet resting on his knees. His back was to the window so I came up behind him to look in at the drawing.
    He was obviously a talented kid. The picture was well drawn, like a cartoon in a magazine. You could even tell the cat was Golddigger—he had the markings just right. There was my cat, held to a dartboard by the three arrows sticking out of his chest. When he saw me looking, Marshall frowned, then carefully drew in drops of blood.

M y sleeping bag and duffle fit neatly into a corner in the back of the van. Dory kept asking me if that was all I was bringing. “We can squeeze more in if you want to bring more,” she assured me. But that didn’t actually seem very likely. Between the three of them, they had five suitcases crammed into the rear storage space, plus sleeping bags, and the backseat was full of stuff Iris and Marshall obviously couldn’t be without for a minute: CD players, earphones, books, magazines, drawing supplies, bags of food, thermal water bottles, head pillows, neck pillows, and polar-fleece blankets. It looked like we were going on an expedition, not a vacation.
    There was just enough room to squeeze in four people. Still, the van was comfortable. We