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“Well, I’ve got western civ, English, lunch, and then chemistry. On the upside, I’m one chemical spill away from superpowers,” he said, grabbing his lab sheet to finish before the bell rang. “What do we call the science of classifying living things?” he asked.

“Racism?”

“Good one. I’m going to write that down. Maybe Mr. Truitt has a sense of humor today.”

“Do you ever wonder if we’re living in a world where the tin-foil hats are right?” I asked.

“Every single day of my life.”

-

NOTICE
Instruction to Patrons on Premises in
Case of Nuclear Bomb Attack…
WARNING: THE END IS NEAR…

Windows are not safe zones, so stay clear.

Electronic devices will not work, so no need to carry your Walkman around.

Air quality may be low, so refrain from taking as many large breaths as possible.

Radiation is everywhere, so find radiation-free zones like your local library or fire station.

Environments may change because of events, so summer may come early this year.

Food will be affected by radiation, so find alternatives to food.

Umbrellas, though unproven, may be used as fallout protection.

Clothing should be removed because of radiation absorption. No need to feel embarrassed if your skin is falling off.

Kitchen appliances lined with lead may be effective in shielding from the blast. However, it is unproven and untested.

Energy should not be wasted on activities not pertinent to survival. Please refrain from coitus so to avoid mutated offspring.

Do not stand during the blast. Items of taller height are most effected by the explosion. Bending over and placing your head firmly between your legs is a good strategy due to stability and overall awareness.

Thank You. And Please Enjoy Your Stay At The Flat Inn.

Chapter Sixteen

I was reading 1984 comfortably on the couch when the phone rang. It was Mom.

“We’ll get back to our normal life soon, but for now I need you both to step up,” Mom said, as if we were new to this family. Also, she’d neglected to say “hello.” But I got it. Both Mom and Dennis worked. I had done my own laundry for years now. When Terrence was at his mom’s, I was usually at home alone or until Dennis got off work.

“Get dinner at the diner. Don’t wait for us. It’s going to be another late one.”

I hung up the phone right when Terrence came in through the garage.

“We’re supposed to get dinner at the diner,” I said.

“Let me change and we’ll go.”

I turned on the TV and slumped in the wingback pink chair. The same chair Mom would make me sit in during time-outs. I grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. Kids Incorporated[47] was on. The TV Guide said, Episode 26 Civic Day Parade: Kids Inc. want to make a float for the Civic Day Parade, but everyone wanted to do a tribute to something different. Renee proves that they have to work together in order to make the float spectacular. Cheesy. Stacy’s my favorite. I was probably not the target audience for Kids Incorporated, but it was fun and I liked it. Just like how I liked MTV. Mom and Dennis didn’t care if Terrence and I watched MTV. Max couldn’t. He lived in a pretty strict home. So whenever I was over at his house and we had MTV on, we’d have to have one ear listening for his parents’ vehicle pulling into the driveway. Once we were caught, and he was grounded for a month, and I was labeled as a “bad influence.” I wasn’t allowed over there for two months. Not until the affair was found out by the entire town and my parents’ divorce came through did Max’s mom relent and say I needed a positive influence in my life—whatever that meant.

Terrence was still in the shower. He took longer than I did. He used all the hot water, so when he was at his mom’s house, it felt like a vacation. I didn’t do sports. In the ninth grade, I went out for the girls’ basketball team. I didn’t make it. In fact, Coach Thomas told me it would be in my best interest to never try out for a sport ever again.

“Ready?” Terrence asked, rounding the corner from his room.

“Yeah, for almost an hour.”

“Hey, it takes time to get this good-looking,” he said, picking his hair.

The diner was busy for a Monday night. Most people were talking about the shooting of scenes that had gone on in town. How exciting it was. How crazy it was. How they couldn’t wait for it to be over. How everything would be back to normal. Those were the ones sitting at the counter because their usual corner booth was taken.

“I can’t wait for this movie nonsense to be done with,” Brenda Leigh said. I thought she was just angry that they didn’t ask her for her help with hair and makeup.

We didn’t usually get tourists, so the displeasure of many was felt. Griffin Flat was small and it would remain small—no matter how many people wanted to see it grow.

“Mom,” Terrence said, waiting for me to decide between the cheeseburger and fries or French dip and fries.

Ms. Wilcox was wearing her yellow blazer. She was a realtor. She was good at her job. Ironically, she helped Mom and Dad buy the house we had been living in before. The one Granny lived in now. She was nice. She never said anything mean about me—at least, not to my face. But she was still angry. Terrence said he couldn’t talk about his dad ever at his mom’s house. It made her mad. Not sad mad. Just mad. Mad that he put her through that. She was the woman scorned. The bitter woman. She owned it, though. I think she was just upset that it made her upset. And embarrassed. And I got that. Because I had been embarrassed when it’d happened. You think your parents are happy and in love, and then they turn out to not be. It kind of crushes your psyche.

“You two looking forward to tomorrow?” she asked us.

“Mmm-hmmm.”

“It’s really nice of you to take your… stepbrother with you. You’re just one happy family, aren’t you? The perfect little stepsister,” she said.

“Mom,” Terrence said.

She smiled at her son. “I suppose I should ask how your dad is?”

“He’s good. Busy. With the FEMA pamphlet and all,” he said.

“Yeah, I bet he is. I hear Jay Nelson is making a killing selling insurance to everyone, even the old. Scum of the earth, he is. Selling insurance for the apocalypse.” She looked around the diner. “We can’t really gossip in here; we’re within the city limits.”

I laughed. So did Terrence. She did not.

“How’s your mom, Laura?” she asked.

“My mom?” I asked. She had never asked about her before.

“The woman that stole my husband,” she clarified.

“Mom—” Terrence said.

“Hester Prynne,” she said.

“Mom—”

“Good for him for finding an older woman that can keep up with him. I’m too young and too in shape for him anyway,” she said.

“Mom—”

“So have you seen your dad lately, Laura?” she asked.

“No, I haven’t,” I said.

“That’s a shame. It really is. Your mom and your dad didn’t really think—”

“Mom—” Terrence said.

She sighed. “Your mom and my ex-husband are coming up on their one-year anniversary soon, aren’t they?”

I nodded.

“I can’t believe they made it almost a year. Breaking up a marriage and then expecting it to be real love. Cheating is cheating, and there is no happiness in that. There hasn’t been a marriage that worked when it’s based on adultery,” she said.

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47

A TV program that premiered in 1983 and was set around a musical group.