Ellison
Mom and Dad are in DC, and I’m considering disowning them. I hold the thermometer to the camera on my laptop. “Ninety-eight point six. Normal. My temperature is normal.”
When they left my temp was normal, but, no, I couldn’t go.
On her end of the video chat, Mom tilts her head. Her blond hair is pulled up into a twist and she has on diamond earrings that dangle. That means she’s headed to something fancy. Something fancy I’m not attending that includes the president.
Yes, I’m bitter.
Behind her, people are moving about in her hotel room. Dad is close enough that he occasionally adds his opinion to whatever Mom and I are discussing.
“Martin said to not push yourself and that you needed to rest,” Mom says. Martin has been Dad’s friend since medical school, and he took over Dad’s medical practice. “You have a full schedule when we return, and those events are important to your father’s campaign.”
“Yes, I can see how meeting the president pales in comparison.”
“It was never a hundred percent certain you would meet him, and if you did, it would have been brief. When your father wins the senate seat, you’ll have plenty of chances to meet him.”
I slump back on my bed against my pillows.
“What did your father say?”
“Eyes on the prize,” Dad calls out in the background. “I told her to keep her eyes on the prize.”
On the bed next to me, my cell vibrates again, and I ignore it. It’s been an avalanche of texts from friends terrified I’m dying since the media announced to the world that I’m sick and that a specialist (Martin) was called to the house.
I called my friends Megan and Jennifer from school today in hopes they could get the word out that the plague did not end my life, but obviously people still want to hear specifically from me that I’m breathing. “Did you find out who leaked I was sick?”
Dad pops on to the screen over Mom’s shoulder. “Sean’s working on it. Are you sure you’re okay staying at the house by yourself? Maybe you should stay with a friend.”
“Or you can have a friend stay with you,” offers Mom. “But let me talk to their parents first, so they understand your father and I are out of town.”
Which means Mom wants to approve of the person I’d choose for a sleepover.
“Maybe you can ask Megan or Jennifer? I can text their moms now.”
Either will be fine, but... “I’m fine on my own.” Truth is, I am still tired, and while I love my friends, I don’t have the energy to talk 24/7.
I level my stare straight on Dad. “How did the media get the note Andrew sent with his flowers? To be honest, that seriously creeps me out. I thought we could trust the people coming in and out of our house, and the thought that someone is watching me and telling the media everything doesn’t make me feel safe.”
Mom’s smile falls as she looks up at Dad. He takes Mom’s cell, he’s on the move and a door clicks shut. Dad sits, and I can tell he’s on a bed. “I need you to be honest, Ellie, are you scared being there by yourself?”
It’s physically painful to not roll my eyes as this place is wired tighter than Fort Knox. “I feel safer without anyone here. I’m more worried that someone we know isn’t respecting me or my privacy.”
“Sean thinks someone at the florist where Andrew ordered the flowers called the media. Other than not ordering flowers from there again, there’s not much we can do.”
My cell vibrates again, and I ignore it again. Dad’s watching me, waiting on a reply.
“I trust every person who enters our home,” he says. “No matter what, your safety comes first.”
My cell pings indicating an email. I pick up my cell and open the email when I notice it’s from Sean. “Sean just sent my schedule for when you guys return, and he told me to spend my bed rest learning my speeches. He dared me to do one of the speeches by heart. Tell him, dare on, and I’m going to win. He also says you should have been downstairs five minutes ago and that I need to tell you I’m fine, otherwise he said you won’t care you’re late.”
Dad doesn’t laugh like I expect, instead he remains dead serious. “He’s right. You’re my daughter. You come first.”
Andrew can suck it. I know my father. He does not. “I’m good, Dad. I promise.”
“Your mom will feel better if you weren’t alone. Plus she feels guilty we aren’t going to be with you on your birthday.”
“The whole birthday thing doesn’t bother me. We’ll celebrate when you return.” And because it’s my dad and we’re close, I choose honesty. “As for being alone, I don’t feel comfortable staying with anyone right now. I trust my friends, but I’m not sure I can trust the other people in their house. Plus, I’m still tired and I don’t want to host. I want quiet.”
Dad nods. “Being in the public eye is a tough life. Rest up. We’ve got big events when we return, and I need you at a hundred percent.”
“Will do.”
“When we get back, you name whatever it is you want to do for your birthday and it’s yours. I’ll have Sean schedule the time off. I love you.”
“Love you back.”
Dad winks and then he’s gone. I have the best dad ever. I truly do. I turn off the video chat, open Sean’s email on my laptop and scroll through the events. Most of them I knew about, but my level of presence and activities at the events have increased which gives me an awesome thrill. I’m needed, what I’m saying is making an impact, and that’s amazingly cool.
Speaking at the Daughters of the American Revolution—check.
Attend the Louisville Bats Game—check.
My head tilts to the side as I read the overview of events at the game. Elle will be in attendance with Andrew. Elle and Andrew are scheduled to appear on the Kiss Cam.
I’m sorry? I’m going to do what? Actually, no, I’m not. No. Way. In. Hell.
My cell is in my hands, and there’s one ring for video chat, then there’s another. I’m so angry my fingers shake, and if Dad doesn’t answer soon I’ll have no choice but to get in my car, drive all the way to DC and scream very loudly for a very, very long time.
The call is accepted, I inhale deeply, so I’ll have plenty of air for my raging rant, and I’m dumbfounded into silence when Sean appears. “Calm down, Elle. It’s not as bad as you think.”
“You want me to kiss Andrew. Yes, it’s exactly as bad as I think.”
“A friendly peck. That’s it. Seconds of your life.”
“Where’s Dad?”
“You’re overreacting.”
“Where’s Dad?”
“Your father was already running late because he was listening in on the phone call with you and your mother, and then he talked to you privately. He’s busy.”
“Then I’ll talk to him later.” I go to hang up.
“If you do everything I ask of you from here until the election, I’ll not only convince your dad to let you take the coding classes, but I’ll convince him to let you apply for the internship.”
I blink because I’m confused why he knows about this.
“Once your dad wins, they plan on moving to DC—you included. But if you do all that we ask, with no attitude, I’ll lean on your dad to let you and your mom stay in Kentucky until you graduate from high school.”
A rush of air out of my mouth because I hadn’t fully realized what winning would mean. Dad and Mom would move, and they’d want me to move with them.
“Plus, your mom and dad have seen the schedule and have approved it. They know about the Kiss Cam and you know how protective they are of you. They see this for what it is—nothing big. This is you overreacting and letting your emotions run away with you. A quick kiss on the cheek, that’s it. Something playful. The crowd will think it’s fun and cute.”
Maybe I’m still sick because I’m overwhelmed with the need to vomit again. I don’t know how to, nor do I want to, explain to Sean why this is big for me. I’ve never been kissed. “Why can’t Mom and Dad kiss?”
“People want young.”
“Then make someone else kiss.”
“When are you going to understand? Drix is winning the minds of the state by proving your father has ideas and programs that work. But you, Elle, are winning their hearts.”
I open my mouth to offer another better alternative, but Sean cuts me off. “Are you in or out? I need to know now. You will have a strong media presence at the game. It’s assumed you’ll take part in a tradition. It’s insulting if you don’t, and people will notice. Plus it’s already on the schedule. If we have to call and tell them it’s not happening, that will be the bigger news story. Are you going to throw me attitude, or are you going to do exactly what I need you to do?”
My lips turn down as pure sadness drowns me from the inside out. “Fine.”
“Thank you. I appreciate how mature you’ve been. As I said—”
I hang up on Sean. I may be making the “mature” decision, but no one ever said I had to be “mature” with him. I close my eyes and take a breath in and a breath out. I will not cry over this. I will not cry over Andrew. I will not cry over Sean. I will not cry over any of this.
My cell rings. No doubt Sean attempting to reconnect, and I deny his request. Seconds later, he tries again, and I deny his request again. Each and every denial my silent expression of how much I hate him. Sean calls again, and I hang up on him again. I can do this all night. After the fourth time, he gives up.
I told Dad I wanted time alone, but the silence in the house I found comfort in before has disappeared. It’s now deafening, and it causes me to feel hollow.
I open my texts. Maybe Mom and Dad are right. Maybe I should invite a friend over. I scroll through my messages, thinking of who would be the least dramatic. Who will be willing to watch movies and go to bed before midnight.
Names roll through the screen, and then my brain has a hiccup. I scroll back and my heart stalls. It’s Drix and he texted me yesterday. An hour between two texts.
Drix: I heard you were sick and I want to make sure you’re okay.
Drix: Maybe this will help. He likes hanging at my home.
I put my hand over my mouth as my heart explodes. There’s a picture of the cutest ball of fur on the planet. It’s Thor.
Oh my God, Drix kept Thor.