her nostrils.
She heard a clink from the bathroom and rushed over to the door. Zoe was there, standing at the counter, carefully applying mascara. The rest of Cara’s makeup—most of which was years old—was spread out in front of her. Zoe looked around. “Oh, hi,” she said without smiling.
Cara sagged against the doorjamb, then made her way into the bathroom, where she collapsed on the closed lid of the toilet. “Oh my God, you scared me half to death! I thought you were gone.”
Zoe applied a coral lipstick. “Nope,” she replied, snapping the case closed sharply. “Still here.” She bit the words off sharply, as if spitting out orange seeds.
“Well, don’t do that again,” Cara said. She took a deep breath and her heart slowed to its normal rhythm. “Anyway, you’ll never believe what happened this morning—actually, this afternoon, too, but really this morning. Remember how I went in early to stretch? It was boiling in that room, so I—”
Zoe shoved the lipstick back in Cara’s flowered makeup bag and whirled around. Her eyes were spidery with mascara. Her coral lips gleamed stickily. “Yeah, that’s great, Car. I’m glad everything’s going better at school, but you know, you might want to think about someone other than yourself for just one tiny second, okay?” She pushed past Cara into the bedroom.
“What are you talking about?” Cara stood uncertainly in the doorway. Zoe flung open her closet door and was rapidly sorting through the clothes.
“I mean ever since I got here, it’s been Cara this and Cara that, and boo-hoo, my life is so awful, and Zoe, will you help me?” Her voice was hard. Zoe pulled out a short red dress with the tags still attached. “And I have helped you, even though you’re oblivious.”
“Zo, I’m sorry.” Cara reached out to her friend, tears already pricking beneath her eyes. God, how could she have been so selfish? After everything Zoe had gone through with her stepdad, this was the last place she should feel neglected.
Cara tried to put her arms around Zoe, but she drew away. Dropping her sweatpants to the floor, Zoe pulled the red dress over her head. Fear clutched at Cara’s heart. There was nothing worse than having Zoe mad at her. It was the one thing she couldn’t stand.
“You’re right,” Cara pleaded. “I’ve been so wrapped up in all my little problems, I haven’t been thinking about you.” She placed a tentative hand on her friend’s back. This time, Zoe didn’t move. “Can I do anything to make it up to you?”
Zoe whirled around and looked Cara in the face. “I want to go out.”
Cara took a step back. “What? No! Zo, you can’t. It’s way too dangerous.” She looked around the room. “Do you want some different food? I can go out and get us anything. Or a movie? Or . . . some books?”
“No.” Zoe’s face was dark. “I’m sick of being cooped up in here. Either you come with me or I’m going by myself. But I’m going out. You can’t stop me, you know, Cara.” She moved toward the door.
“Zoe, wait!” Cara clutched at her arm. “Your parents are probably looking for you. They might have even called the police. Please! I’d die if they took you away.” Hysterical tears gathered in her eyes, threatening to overwhelm her. Cara’s body shook at the thought of losing her friend again. Her face must have shown her anguish because Zoe’s arm relaxed under Cara’s hand.
“I’d die if they took me away too,” she said. Slowly, she sank down on the bed.
Cara took a deep, shaky breath. “Okay,” she said carefully. “Just wait one second.” She pulled two pairs of boots from the closet. “I’ve got the perfect solution.”
Ten minutes later, they were tramping across an overgrown meadow behind Cara’s house, rain jackets open against the light drizzle, the goldenrod brushing their calves above the boots. Zoe still wore the red dress, now damp with rain. She looked doubtful. “Cara, this isn’t
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley