Page 50 (1/2)
Lina felt a rush of pure, blinding anger How dare her mother be so calm and matter-of-fact and … and motherly? It made Lina feel off balance, confused It wasn’t supposed to be this way; she was supposed to get what she wanted by using the old tricks
She yanked up her backpack and wrenched open the door She lurched out of the car and spun around to stare at her mother “I’ll be home when I feel like it”
Madelaine stared at her, so cool and calive ards to Mr Spencer”
“I hate you,” Lina hissed
“That’s too bad,” her mother said quietly “Because I love you” Then she leaned over and shut the door
Lina stood there, so angry she was shaking She wanted to yell or screa in But all she could do atch her mother drive away
Madelaine ducked into one of the empty hospital rooms and peered into the bathroom mirror
She looked like Sylvester Stallone at the end of the first Rocky
She poked at the dark circles under her eyes and frowned It was too bad Maybelline didn’t ue face ht—which she hadn’t This “no shit” parenting was harder than it looked
She’d done the right thing with Lina For once, she’d been a parent
And what if Lina ran away? What then, Miss Parent of the Year? The voice was her father’s, boo and authoritative, but the words were her own It was that worry that had kept her up all night, trying to assuage her guilt in books about tough love and hard choices in parenting, but the experts’ words were cold and dark against plain white pages No comfort at all
She left the bathroom and headed down the familiar white corridor toward Intensive Care When she reached Angel’s roohtly and went inside
She couldn’t believe what she saw
He was lying there, sucking on a cigarette, then blowing smoke into the air An open bottle of tequila sat on the bedside table
He didn’t even have the coave her a bleary, cockeyed grin “Uh-oh, hall patrol” He reached for the bottle and hit it with his knuckles It wobbled and crashed sideways, spraying golden liquid everywhere The sickeningly sweet sarette on the bedside table