Free Driver's Ed by Caroline B. Cooney Page B

hadn’t confided in Lark. She could keep her ruined hopes in her heart,instead of lying around for Lark to laugh at and pick on.
    Being a Marland, Remy consoled herself with a final dose of junk food before bed. She ate the other half of her Heath bar, while Mom had another chocolate-covered doughnut, and Mac, an immense helping of pineapple ice cream. Mac preferred flavors nobody else would touch, thus ensuring there was always enough for him.
    The phone rang.
    Morgan’s been sitting by the phone trying to work up courage! Remy thought joyfully. He forgot the time, but who cares? The thing is to get Mac away from me so I can hold a real conversation.
    Naturally at this hour, Mom thought somebody was dead or in a dreadful accident, and she leaped across the food line to the phone. “Lark?” said Mom in astonishment. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”
    Lark? thought Remy. She must be checking to see if Morgan called. I’ll lie. No, I’ll tell the truth. No, I don’t want to lie or tell the truth. I’ll tell her I can’t talk.
    â€œIs this important, Lark?” said Mom severely. “Can this wait until morning?”
    â€œCome on, Mom,” said Mac. “We’re not doing anything earth shattering here. We’re just chewing. On a Friday night. Let Remy talk.”
    Mac on her team? That in itself was earth shattering. Remy took the phone.
    â€œDon’t talk where they can hear you,” whispered Lark.
    â€œHuh?”
    â€œDid you see the news?” Lark’s voice was abnormally husky.
    â€œMe? No. What news?” Unless it was war or her favorite department store leaving the mall, Remy wouldn’t be interested. The Marlands were not news minded. They took a local paper, mostly for sports. Remy herself read the comics, Ann Landers, her horoscope, and the ads. Rarely did the Marlands glance at television news.
    â€œDon’t talk out loud, Remy!” hissed Lark.
    Remy giggled. “What other way to talk is there?”
    â€œRemy, listen to me.” Lark sounded strained and peculiar.
    There
is
a war, thought Remy. Which of the many countries they followed in Current Events had finally gone over the edge and drawn the United States in? She considered the senior boys that Lark adored and wondered if they, thrilled by this violent turn of events, were running to a recruitment office to enlist.
    â€œA woman got killed last night,” said Lark. “It was just on the news. Somebody took a stop sign. She drove through an intersection and got pasted by a truck.”
    â€œOh,” said Remy. “How sad.”
    â€œRemy. Are you listening to me?”
    Remy was not. Not really. She was rehearsing how to share everything about Morgan and yet keep the best parts secret in her heart. She was—
    â€”took a stop sign
.
    â€œThe police said teenagers probably stole the stop sign,” said Lark.
    Remy was listening.
    â€œThe husband was on TV,” said Lark. “They had a police information number on the screen.”
    â€œShe died?” whispered Remy.
    â€œShe died,” said Lark.
    â€œWhat was the corner?” said Remy. But she knew. She knew right down into her bones, as if she were the dead person.
    Remy Marland had just made a dent in the world.
    T he late-night news went on.
    Rafe Campbell sipped his white wine and Nance Campbell indulged in two more skinny pretzel sticks.
    Anne discussed the economy, which was worse. Irene was distraught over the possibility of precipitation. Chuck could hardly wait for his turn and the details of a locker-room fracas.
    â€œBy the way, Morgan, I want to wear the red velvet cape with the ermine trim,” said Starr. “And the biggest crown.”
    Morgan had no idea what his sister was talking about.
    â€œMom, make him give me the best king costume.”
    â€œWhy would Morgan make that decision?”
    â€œHe’s going to run the Christmas