Twice Kissed. Lisa Jackson

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      Something was going on. Something big. But Becca couldn’t figure out what it was. Listening to an old Nirvana CD, she couldn’t get into the music that usually swept her away. Neither Kurt Cobain nor his hard guitar chords dispelled her sense of the immediate tension that was thick between her mother and Thane Walker, Marquise’s ex-husband. Weird. Maybe Marquise was in worse trouble than they were saying.

      Becca stole a look at her mother from the corner of her eye. Beneath the fringe of her lashes she caught a glimpse of Maggie, white-faced and biting on the edge of a thumbnail. Sitting stiffly, almost as if she had a case of rigor mortis, her mother stared out the windshield. Her lips were turned down at the corners and she looked worried, the way she had when she’d told Becca about the divorce just over a year ago.

      Inside, Becca’s stomach churned and she closed her mind to thoughts of her parents. Sure they’d fought. Big deal. Everyone’s parents had fights. But somehow theirs had escalated to the point of divorce.

      And then her dad had died.

      The back of her eyes burned for a second, and she gritted her teeth as Kurt Cobain sang on and on. The empty part of her, the part that still hurt, burned again and she refused to think of her father or the fact that he wouldn’t have died if it hadn’t been for that last ugly fight.

      “Shit,” she mumbled.

      “What?” Her mother’s head swung in her direction.

      “Nothin’.” She didn’t want to go into it and closed her eyes as the song ended. For a few seconds the silence in the pickup was deafening, then a crash of guitar chords started the next tune. Thank God. She’d listen. And instead of thinking about her parents and the crummy past, she’d concentrate on her future. And L.A. She smiled and decided she wasn’t going back to Idaho ever again. It was like nowhere. Real hicksville. Aunt Connie would take her in; Jennifer had said so. And Jennifer had also promised on her next visit to take her to a party to meet some guys. She also said that they’d get their navels pierced and maybe even go to a tattoo parlor for some body art.

      It would be so cool.

      And her mom would flip.

      Excellent. Becca slunk lower in the seat and bobbed her head in time with the drumbeats. She wasn’t sure what kind of tattoo she’d get, but she wanted to put it on her ankle so people could see it when she wasn’t wearing socks. A butterfly would be cool, but was kinda common. Not in Idaho, of course, but in L.A. A spider was a little too creepy, but a hummingbird might be just right. She smiled to herself, envisioning the colorful creature hovering just above her heel, its long beak dipping into a small flower. Yeah, that would do it.

      And Mom will freak out.

      Perfect.

      A little twinge of guilt pricked her conscience, but she refused to think about it. For now she’d concentrate on having the time of her life in Los Angeles.

      Later, as they passed over White Bird Hill, she sneaked a peek at Thane. Grim-faced, wearing sunglasses and concentrating on the snow that had started falling from the sky in small, icy pellets, he stared straight ahead. As if there wasn’t another soul in the pickup. For an old guy, he was okay-looking, if you liked the rangy cowboy type. He looked like he’d rather be riding a bucking bronco or at least a huge motorcycle. There was an edge to him that even Becca, at age thirteen, could feel. So what was the deal with him and her mother? Why did they act as if they couldn’t stand each other?

      Becca had never heard much talk about Marquise’s first husband, only that Maggie had never approved of the marriage and had always changed the subject whenever it had been brought up. She seemed to hate this guy.

      Not that it mattered one way or the other. The only thing that Becca cared about was that she was about to be free, and she never intended to return to Backwoods USA again. In a few hours, she’d be outta there. For good.

      It was about time.