Chapter 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

DANIEL

"Hey!" she says, trying to get out of my grip.

How in the world did I attract such an annoying and clingy girl? When have I ever done anything to encourage her to talk to me, let alone follow me home? This isn't normal. I'm good at getting people to leave me alone. I'm scary and rough. I don't even smile.

Is it because I didn't do that annoying assignment from science class? Would she really go this far to make sure she got a good grade? Wouldn't it be easier for her to do the assignment herself rather than go to all this effort to make me do it? Nothing makes sense.

"We were talking," Olive says.

"And now you're done," I reply.

"Let go," Margo says. She tries to shake me off, but my grip is too strong. She's going outside whether she wants to or not.

As soon as we make it through the door, I shut it. I face her full-on, tugging on my hair."I swear every time I turn around, you're there." I gesture wildly into the air. "Why are you doing this to me? Is it because of the ridiculous homework I tore up? Because if it is, then that's low. I've had it up to here with you"—I motion to my neck—"and the last thing I need is to have you following me around like a pathetic, lost dog!"

Her eye twitches. "I'm doing this because I need something from you!"

"What? Tell me why you're doing this!" I'll give her whatever she wants at this point if she agrees to leave me alone.

She crosses her arms. "I need something from you, and I know you won't do it unless I do something for you first." She gestures toward me. "There. Happy now?"

I sigh, rolling my eyes. "Tell me what it is. I'll just get it over with now so I won't be stuck with you any longer."

She shakes her head. "I already told you, I need you to tell me what you want first."

"I don't want anything other than for you to leave me alone!" I yell.

Her feet are anchored, and she stands a little taller as if she's trying to challenge me. "I'll find your father."

My heart stops... for a half second, I swear. It takes me a moment to process her words—her overly ambitious promise. It's impossible. The only person who knew him is dead. There are no clues. He's nothing but a stranger. I wouldn't know him from Adam.

"You"—I point to her petite oddball self—"are going to find my father?"

She nods, holding her chin up high. "I already told you, I'm good at finding things. It's my talent. Ask anyone at school. I'm not lying." She tries to make herself seem taller by straightening her back, but she's still the same person. She isn't fooling anyone.

"You know what? Fine. You do that. Go find my long-lost father." If she insists on doing something for me, I'm going to give her an impossible task. Something she'll never be able to accomplish. That'll keep her busy. Keep her away.

Her mouth falls open. "R-really? Just like that?"

"Yeah." I lean in, casting a shadow over her. "But don't you dare show your face again until you find him." I won't have to see her for a very long time if she agrees to this. It'll practically guarantee a Margo-free future.

She staggers back. "We go to the same school. We have three classes together."

"Not my problem." I cross my arms, proud of my plan. My only regret is not coming up with it sooner. "Deal?"

Part of me expects her to turn around and leave, but instead she thrusts her hand out. "Deal."

I scowl at her hand.

"Come on. Make it official," she says. She shakes her hand in front of me as if doing that would make it more appealing.

"No."

She tilts her head, pinching her lips together in an irritated frown. "The second you shake my hand, I'll leave."

I'm so done with her. I glance around, making sure no one is here to witness this horrific scene, then I set my hand in hers. My hand buzzes from touching hers. It's a strange feeling after going so long avoiding other people. I shake her hand as fast as humanly possible before pulling back. "There. Now leave."

"Gladly," she says with a smile that takes up her entire face.

Without skipping a beat, I turn and walk away .

I clench my hand as I walk inside, still feeling Margo's effect.

Once inside, I lean against the hallway wall and close my eyes. My breathing is still heavy, and my heart is pounding in my ears.

Olive joins me with a curious grin. "So what was that about? Margo's your friend?"

"Shut up."

"That handshake, though . . ."

A chill runs down my back, but I shake it off. "Don't you have anything better to do? Like playing with dolls?"

She glares at me and shakes her head. "You're so funny." In her hand is a script from her drama class. "Do you want to help me practice the lines for my audition?"

"Can't," I say. "I'm busy."

She crosses her arms. "With what?"

"Breathing." I push past her and walk back toward my room.

"Dad's in there now. He's on the phone with a client," Olive calls after me.

Of course he is. It's not like it's actually my room. Nothing here is mine. I don't belong.

I make my way out to the backyard and sit on the steps of the porch. I can't stop my curiosity. What could she possibly want badly enough for her to go through all the trouble of finding my dad?

More importantly, what happens if she somehow finds him?

The next morning I go about my usual routine of ignoring breakfast despite Laura standing outside my door with a honey-drizzled waffle.

"You need to visit your grandma today," she says. I barely hear her as I walk out the door.

I know Laura wants to believe my grandma and I have a good relationship, but that's not true. One time when I was little, I tripped on purpose because I thought if I was hurt, maybe she'd wrap me up in a hug. Instead, she helped me stand, took one look at my scuffed knees, and said, "If you aren't bleeding, you aren't hurt."

That's how she was. I don't know if she liked anything, to be honest. Our home was bare without pictures. She had no hobbies. The only thing she did all day was clean and remind me to do things I was already doing.

The problem with visiting her is she isn't like that now. She smiles and laughs. She plays cards and paints. She seems happy, and I can't help but think it must be because I'm not around.

So why should I visit her?

When I walk into my science class, there is Margo, pineapple earrings and all.

She locks eyes with me and immediately ducks, hiding behind her binder. As I sit, she inches the binder to the middle of the table and stands it up on its side to create a divide between us.

"What are you doing?" I ask, exhausted from my mind racing all morning.

"Not showing you my face, obviously," she whispers from behind the binder .

I push the binder down and stare at her pink cheeks. "It's pointless. I can still hear you."

She covers her face with her hands. "Nice try. I'm not voiding our agreement."

Somehow this is even worse than seeing her. I'm not about to spend the next hour with her acting this ridiculous. "This class can be a neutral zone."

"Why?" she says through her hands.

"Because this is more annoying."

She parts her fingers, one of her eyes peeking through the gap. "Really?"

"Don't make me regret this," I say as I set my head down to rest. I close my eyes, ready to sleep while my teacher drones on.

"So, give me a clue," she says, bringing up her legs to sit crisscross on her chair.

So much for sleeping. "About what?"

She shifts closer, clearly taking this "neutral zone" a little too casually. She must've misunderstood my gesture as an invitation to talk to me.

"Your father? You have to know something."

"Nope." I close my eyes again.

"Are you sure?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Your grandma must've known who he was."

"She didn't."

"Hmph." She taps her pencil on the table. "This might take longer than I was hoping."

"I'm counting on forever."

"Hey," she says.

"Hush. I'm sleeping."

Margo quiets down, but only because class starts. If Mrs. Wilkson hadn't started talking, I'm sure Margo would find a way to fill the silence. Even though I've only known her for a short time, I can tell she loves to talk. If I had to guess, silence makes her uncomfortable.

To me, silence is peace.

And Margo is chaos.

After our teacher stops talking, Margo starts right back up. I drown her out the rest of class, not paying attention to her laundry list of reasons why I should do my part of the assignment instead of making her do it all by herself. The thing is, I don't need to do the assignment. I'll ace the test without it, and our tests are weighted. I'll pass the class enough to graduate, so what's the point? I'm burned out on trying. It's never gotten me anywhere before. Everyone wants you to believe doing well in school will make your life better, but I know from experience it's an illusion.

My phone buzzes, bringing me back to reality.

Laura:

Remember, I'm taking you to visit your grandma after you get home from school.

My stomach twists. Just thinking about it makes my head hurt. A migraine is threatening to settle in, pounding at my temples.

"Are you okay?" Margo asks.

"I'm fine." I stand, leaving the class again for fresh air. I already have detention today, so threatening me for skipping the rest of class holds no weight.

I barrel down the hallway and into the bathroom. Once safely inside, I splash my face with water because it's the only thing I can do to stop my head from exploding. I stare at my reflection in the mirror; at the unwanted boy staring back.