I walked into our little apartment, hoping my dad would be home from work. Instead, Hell was in the living room, playing poker with her girlfriends. The television blared some drama show. Chips and pizza boxes were strewn all over the carpet.
Hardly looking up, she said around her cigar, "So, you're home."
"Where's my dad?"
"Working," she said. "You got any cash?"
That was it. No Welcome back. Good to see you. How has your life been the last six months?
Nevaeh had put on weight. She looked like a tuskless walrus in thrift-store clothes. I never knew how many hairs she had, as she always wore a cheap blond wig. As if it made her look beautiful or something.
She managed the Textile Mart in Ingrid, but she stayed home most of the time. I don't know why she hadn't been fired long before. She just kept on collecting paychecks, spending the money on cigars that made me nauseous, and on booze, of course. Always booze. Whenever I was home, she expected me to provide her gambling funds. She called that our "gal secret." Meaning, if I told my dad, she would kick my guts out.
"I don't have any cash," I told her. She raised a greasy eyebrow.
Hell could sniff out money like a bloodhound, which was surprising, since her own smell should've covered up everything else.
"You took a taxi from the bus station," she said. Probably paid with a thirty. Got seven, eight bucks in change. Somebody expects to live under this roof, she ought to carry her own weight. Am I right, Earl?"
Earl, the owner of the apartment building, looked at me with a twinge of sympathy. "Come on, Nevaeh," he said. "The kid just got here."
"Am I right?" Nevaeh repeated.
Earl scowled into his bowl of pretzels. The other two women passed gas in harmony.
"Fine," I said. I dug a wad of cash out of my pocket and threw the money on the table. "I hope you lose."
"Your report card came, brainiac!" she shouted after me. "I wouldn't act so lofty!"
I slammed the door to my room, which really wasn't my room. During school months, it was Nevaeh's "study." She didn't study anything in there except old anime mangas, but she loved shoving my stuff in the closet, leaving her dirty boots on my windowsill, and doing her best to make the place smell like her horrible deodorant and cigars and booze.
I dropped my suitcase on the bed. Home sweet home.
Nevaeh's smell was almost worse than the nightmares about Mr. Blitz, or the sound of that old fruit guy's shears snipping the yarn.
But as soon as I thought that, my legs felt weak. I remembered Ember's look of panic-how she'd made me promise I wouldn't go home without her. A sudden chill rolled through me. I felt like someone- something was looking for me right now, maybe pounding its way up the stairs, growing long, horrible talons
Then I heard my dad's voice. "Zoe?"
He opened the bedroom door, and my fears melted.
My father can make me feel good just by walking into the room. His eyes sparkle and change color in the light. His smile is as warm as a yum coffee. He's got a few gray streaks mixed in with his short black hair, but I never think of him as old. When he looks at me, it's like she's seeing all the good things about me, none of the bad. I've never heard him raise his voice or say an unkind word to anyone, not even me or Nevaeh.
"Oh, Zoe." He hugged me tight. "I can't believe it. You've grown since the solstice!"
His cotton-candy Rosealie Sweets uniform smelled like the best things in the world: chocolate, licorice, and all the other stuff he sold at the candy shop in Zephyrine Metro. He brought me a huge bag of "free samples," the way he always did when I came home.
We sat together on the edge of the bed. While I attacked the raspberry sour strings, he ran his hand through my hair and demanded to know everything I hadn't put in my letters. He didn't mention anything about my getting expelled. He didn't seem to care about that. But was I okay? Was his little girl doing all right?
I told him he was smothering me, and to lay off and all that, but secretly, I was really, really glad to see him.
From the other room, Nevaeh yelled, "Hey, Killian-how about a chicken sandwich, huh?" I gritted my teeth. Nevaeh doesn't know how to cook, after dad married her, he learned how to cook. Well, he had to.
My dad is the nicest person in the world. He should've been married to a millionaire, not to some jerk like Hell.
For his sake, I tried to sound upbeat about my last days at Chivers Academy. I told him I wasn't too down about the expulsion. I'd lasted almost the whole year this time. I'd made some new friends. I'd done pretty well in English. And honestly, the fights hadn't been as bad as the headmaster said. I liked Chivers Academy. I really did. I put such a good spin on the year, I almost convinced myself. I started choking up, thinking about Ember and Ms. Sybil. Even Frostine Diablo suddenly didn't seem so bad.
Until that trip to the museum ...
"No, Dad."
I felt bad lying. I wanted to tell him about Mr. Blitz and the two old guys with the yarn, but I thought it would sound stupid.
He pursed his lips. He knew I was holding back, but he didn't push me.
"I have a surprise for you," he said. "We're going to the coast."
My eyes widened. "Ezekiel?"
"Two nights."
"When?"
He smiled. "As soon as I get changed.
I couldn't believe it. My dad and I hadn't been to Ezekiel the last two winters, because Nevaeh said there wasn't enough money.