Free Zen and Xander Undone by Amy Kathleen Ryan Page A

see how you can forget about it. Besides, I’m sure you’ll learn that their relationship was innocent. Then you don’t have to worry about it anymore.”
    Xander perks up at this, but she’s still mad. “I’m not a slut,” she tells him, wounded.
    He doesn’t answer. He just lets his eyes trail down her thin white tank top and back up to her face. He raises one eyebrow.
    â€œBras are medieval,” she tells him before getting up and flouncing away from us. We watch her go until she turns around and yells angrily, “Hey prudy-boy, is your mommy home?”
    â€œOh, man,” he mumbles before getting up and jogging to catch up with her.
    I’m not exactly thrilled either, because I know what she’s about to do. She’s going to ask Nancy.
    When I catch up, hobbling, Adam is trying to talk sense to Xander. “Let me handle it, okay? If we don’t do this tactfully, Mom’ll clam up.”
    â€œYou think I’m not tactful?” Xander says.
    I snort. She turns around to glare at me.
    â€œI’ll ask her,” Adam says. “I know how to handle her.”
    To this, Xander says nothing.
    We climb up the front steps of Adam’s house to find Nancy sitting on the porch swing reading a horror novel. All Nancy reads is horror. She loves Stephen King, and she owns every one of his novels in hardcover. They take up three whole shelves on her bookcases. Right now she’s reading something by Clive Barker, biting her bottom lip with dread. We’re all standing over her, waiting. When she looks up at us, she jumps in her seat.
    â€œJesus, Mom, didn’t you hear us come up the steps?”
    â€œYeah,” she says breathlessly. “I did.” She picks up a huge tumbler of lemonade and takes a swig. “What are you guys up to today?”
    â€œNothing much,” Adam says as he sits down in a wicker chair. She makes room on the swing for me and Xander, and we all start swinging together.
    â€œWheee!” Nancy says as she kicks the swing higher, holding her arms over her head like she’s on a roller coaster. This is why I like Nancy so much. She’s goofy. “How are the hellions today?” Nancy asks as she pushes the swing even higher. “Starting up a rock band? Going on tour? Can I be a roadie?”
    â€œActually, we were just wondering if our mother was a cheeky harlot,” Xander says casually.
    Adam drops his head into his hands.
    The swing creaks to a stop. Nancy’s floppy brown hair falls in her face. Slowly she smoothes it away.
    â€œMom. The hellions have found something interesting about Marie, and we’re just wondering.” He looks at her level, so she knows he’s not kidding around. “Did Marie ever mention a guy named John Phillips?”
    â€œNo,” she says without even pausing to think about it. She stands up and gives Xander a freezing glare. “I’ve never heard the name,” she says before turning on her heel and slamming through the front door.
    â€œShe’s lying,” Xander says flatly.
    â€œYou had to plunge right in, didn’t you?” Adam yells.
    Xander shrugs. “I thought she’d laugh.”
    â€œWhy? It wasn’t funny.” He shakes his head before going in the house.
    I turn on Xander. “You’re the harlot, not Mom.”
    Xander jumps up and darts through the front door. I go into the kitchen to find her standing toe to toe with Nancy. “I’m sorry I said it that way,” she pleads. “Just tell us what you know so that we don’t have to think the worst!”
    Nancy starts mixing herself another glass of lemonade, shaking her head, staring into the yellow liquid. “How do you know about him?” she says quietly.
    Adam insinuates himself between Nancy and Xander, who he glares at until she backs away and sits down at the kitchen table.
    â€œThey found his name in some papers,” he