Mom has slipped back into her depression again. She spends the whole weekend at home while I run the store with Jonah and April’s help. The Student Council fundraising thing is going really well so far and we close out Sunday night with two thousand extra dollars in sales. I’m thrilled to come home and tell my mom, but when I find her in her room, laid on her side and staring at the wall, I can’t think of anything to say.

Mom gets like this sometimes. It doesn’t happen often, but it’s happened mostly after she got divorced. She’ll go through a few days of silent contemplation and she won’t leave her room much or do anything. I know she’s upset right now because of her decision to sell the store, and I know it’s a battle I can’t win right now.

If we can do two thousand dollars in sales on a weekend, I can only imagine how much we’ll earn over the next twenty eight days. I make a BLT sandwich with chips and set it on a tray, then take it to Mom’s room. I set it on her nightstand and then turn to walk away.

“Thank you,” she says.

After a shower, I’m sitting in my room working on my extra credit papers and trying not to worry about Mom. With Jonah’s help, we might actually turn this place around. The weird thing is that I know we’ve earned around three thousand dollars a month for the last few months. Sure we have taxes and rent to pay, but besides the normal bills and food and stuff, we shouldn’t need any more money than that. We’re barely getting by here, but at least we’re getting by, right? Mom and I live without cable TV or high speed internet and we get by just fine. Why is she so quick to give this all up and get a job that she’ll hate?

Frustrated and feeling a little depressed myself, I shove my homework to the side and head down to the kitchen nook where Mom keeps all her bills and mail. I grab a notepad and smile when it makes me think of Jonah, and then I write Monthly Budget at the top.

I grab a stack of the latest bills and start writing down the electric company, water company, and cell phone provider, along with what last month’s bill amount was for each one. I’m going to figure out what it costs to survive each month and then see if I can tweak the budget to save money.

With money saved and more money coming into the store, Mom will have to reconsider the idea of selling the store. I’ll beg and plead. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep the store in my life and make sure Jack Brown doesn’t get his way.

I go through the bills and find Mom’s bank account statement for last month. I figure I’ll add up all the food and grocery expenses to see what we spend on food on average. Surely, we can budget better in that area by eating cheap food and cutting out smoothies and ice cream.

I get halfway down the page when my finger stops on a transaction I don’t recognize. Twelve hundred dollars was paid to EASYMONEYCORP.

I sit back and stare at the numbers on the bank statement. Easy Money Corp? That payday loan place that’s always advertising on the radio? Why the hell is Mom paying them so much money?

I go back to the bills and flip through each one, not seeing anything from this shady payday loan place. Then I remember when I was little and how Mom would hide her favorite candy from me so I’d stop eating it all in one sitting. Would Mom hide something from me now?

I shove the chair over to the fridge, where I stand on it to look into the shoebox that’s been up there forever, collecting dust. There’s no candy in it anymore, but there is paperwork. Lots of it.

Half an hour later, my heart is pounding and I’m freaking out. My mom took a payday loan last year around Christmas time. It must have been what she used to buy my new cell phone even though I’d told her we didn’t need to waste money on things like that. The interest they charge on this loan is impossible and Mom’s monthly payments keep going up and up each month, especially since she took out a few more loans after the first one.

Now my mom owes $23,557 and the monthly payment is $1206. They call it the minimum payment and there’s a line on the bill encouraging you to pay more. Each month $800 is added on in interest. It makes me want to throw up. This should be illegal. They’re taking advantage of my poor mom who only wanted a little extra cash to get us by. This is ruining us. No wonder she kept it a secret.

I shove everything back in place, grab the monthly budget I’d made and go back to my room where I call Jonah.

“Hello?” he says all groggily.

“Did I wake you up?” I look at my watch—it’s after midnight. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. What’s up?”

I tell him about all of the debt my mom has secretly acquired and how it’s with a shady company. Even with the extra money we’ve earned last weekend, it won’t be enough. That barely covers a payment and the high interest will just keep the debt at the same amount. I hope Jonah has a plan. Some fancy mathematical way to make this easier to pay off.

He tells me we’re screwed. That payday loans are sharks and they bankrupt people more often than they help them. He says there’s no way out of this loan without a lump sum payment of the full amount.

We can do what we can for the store, but we’ll never get twenty thousand dollars.

 

***

 

All I want to do is skip class on Monday, but I force myself to go. Mom seemed okay, more like her usual self this morning. At least she was going to the store and not choosing to close for the day so she can stay in bed. I wanted to tell her about the loan and how I knew about it, but I don’t want to upset her. I want to fix this. If only that debt was paid off, then we could keep the store.

Jonah meets me in the hallway on the way to lunch, his hand slipping into mine as if it were created specifically for that purpose. “How you holding up?” he asks.

I lean against his arm while we walk. “I don’t know. I wish Mom would have told me about this.”

“Parents don’t want their kids to worry.”

“Yeah, well now I’m worrying.”

Jonah tugs my hand in the opposite direction of the cafeteria. I let him guide me back the way we came, walking against the flow of traffic, until we get to the alcove underneath the stairs.

He glances around suspiciously, and when the last student has left this hallway, he pulls me inside.

“Jonah,” I say playfully as I press his back to the wall and lean against him. “You’re a world class student. Sneaking around at school doesn’t sound like you at all.”

“I know,” he says, sliding his hands in my back pockets. There’s a hint of mischief in his eyes as we kiss. “We can’t stay here long, I just had to get a kiss and tell you how crazy I am about you.”

“Let’s get to it then,” I say. I reach up and cup his face in my hands. Then I lean on my toes and let my body fall against his chest, my lips crashing into his. We kiss just enough to enjoy it but not enough to get too turned on. We’re at school, after all.

“Now I believe you had something to tell me,” I say with a coy grin.

“I am crazy about you,” he says, holding me tightly.

“The feeling is mutual,” I say, leaning against his chest. “Thanks for cheering me up.”

“That’s what boyfriends do.”

I look up at him. “Are you saying you’re my boyfriend?”

He gazes into my eyes. “Do you want me to be?”

I’m suddenly nervous, jittery, and feeling like I’m not good enough for all of this wonderful boy. I can’t find the words to say yes, so I nod.

He smiles and kisses me again. “We’re official now.”

“I like the sound of that,” I say, taking his hand and stepping back into the hallway. “Official.”

Someone calls my name. I don’t recognize the girl who rushes up to me, out of breath. “There you are,” she says, holding out a piece of paper. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

I take the paper. It’s pink. It has the AP’s office checked at the top. All those happy feelings I’d had with Jonah just seconds ago vanish. They’re taken away, sliced in half with this piece of paper that’s making me go see that woman again.

I turn to Jonah. “Tell April I’ll probably miss lunch.”

He frowns and pulls me into a hug. “Good luck.”

Mrs. Reese doesn’t make me wait outside her office forever like she did last time. She ushers me right in, telling me to sit. She’s smiling and talking in a kind voice, so maybe she’s in a good mood. I’m still not very thrilled with being here.

There’s a picture on her desk of her and my ex step-dad, their faces leaning toward each other on a roller coaster ride.

“What can I do for you?” I say.

“Just wanted to have an update, Natalie.” Mrs. Reese beams at me and looks at her computer screen. “You now have four B’s, two A’s, and only one C on this report card. I am so very proud of you.”

“What can I say, the tutoring helped.”

Her smile shifts into one less convincing. “Natalie, I spoke with a few of your teachers this morning and they all said you seemed upset about something. Can I ask what’s bothering you?”

“It’s nothing school related,” I say, waving her off with my hand. “Just a little disappointed that my mom wants to sell the store.”

“Why would she do that?” Mrs. Reese says, her voice softening as if she’s talking about a friend instead of her husband’s ex-wife.

I shrug. “We’re not making enough money.”

She leans forward and takes a pen, then writes something on a small notepad. “You should talk to your dad,” she says, sliding the paper to me. It contains a phone number and an email address. “He could help you.”

“I’m not asking my mom’s ex-husband for money,” I say, shoving the paper back across her desk.

“Honey—” Frown lines form around her mouth and then she tries to smile at me. “Don’t think of him like that. Think of him as your adopted dad. He cares a lot about you, Natalie.”

“He doesn’t call me. He hasn’t emailed or written or seen me at all.”

“That’s because you told him not to.”

I flinch. “What? No I didn’t.”

Her eyes flicker with something unreadable, and then she frowns again. She slides the paper back to me. “Maybe you should reach out and let him know there’s been a misunderstanding.”

“Did my mom tell him I don’t want to see him?” I ask. My throat feels dry and I try to think of a world where Mom did that to me. Of course, she also lied to me about having major debt, so maybe she did this as well.

“I don’t have the answers, Natalie. But I do know your dad has a college fund set up for you. He has child support he wanted to pay but your mom wouldn’t accept.”

I swallow. “Are you serious?”

She nods slowly, pity all over her face. “He misses you.”

“I don’t want money from him.”

“That’s fine.” She pushes the paper closer to my hand. “Maybe just a phone call. I know he would be so happy to hear from you.”