Dreadful Sorry by Kathryn Reiss

even for a second about old houses and long hallways. Or hatboxes. She was one hundred percent fine as long as she pushed from her mind the memory of the face she saw in the mirror—the face that was not her own.
    How much finer could anyone get?
    When she was stopped at the traffic light back near the shopping center again, she saw Kathi's blue car turn the corner. Kathi was driving with Jared beside her. At the sight of him, Molly's stomach felt hollow again. But
he
should be the one feeling guilty—after what he'd done to her!
    She heard the whisper in her mind:
And after what you did to him!
    She accelerated with a lurch and zoomed down Route 21, past antique stores and housing developments, right on into the next town. After twenty more minutes of driving aimlessly through unfamiliar neighborhoods, she felt considerably calmer, and headed home. When she let herself in the kitchen door, the house was quiet. But the flashing red light on the answering machine didn't have to be loud to get her attention. It made no sound, but flashed there, on and off, with the impact of an emergency siren at top volume.
    Molly threw the keys onto the counter. She rewound the tape on the answering machine without listening to the message and ran upstairs. She flopped across her bed and stared up at the ceiling, willing the calm of her room to quiet her pounding head. Was she really cracking up? Jen would be so ashamed.
    Downstairs, the doorbell rang. And rang. And rang.
    She pulled her pillow over her head and waited until Jared and Kathi went away again.
    Finally, all was quiet. She started to cry. She had to get away from here. Dragging herself out of bed, she crossed the room to her desk and picked up her address book. She sat on the edge of her bed and reached for her phone on the bedside table. She dialed numbly, staring out the window. Dusk had fallen.
    Bill answered on the first ring.
    "Hello, Dad?"
    "Molly! What a surprise!"
    "Dad—listen, I've changed my mind. I do want to come see you and Paulette. Right away."
    "Hey, that's great. Why the sudden change of heart?"
    She clutched the receiver tightly, winding the cord around her hand. Her line to safety.
    "I just decided I'd rather be with you."
    "I'll admit I'm flattered. And relieved. But what does your mom say?"
    "Oh, you know Mom." Molly hesitated. Then she tried to make her voice light. "She'd rather I stayed here, actually. She's got me all signed up for swimming lessons at the rec center."
    There was a silence. Then Bill cleared his throat. "I see," he said. "Yes, I think I'll make those plane reservations right away. Don't worry, honey. You're on your way to nice, peaceful Hibben, Maine. There's not a rec center for a hundred miles."
    They talked another few minutes. In the background Molly could hear Paulette's giggle of excitement. By the time Jen returned from her date, Molly and Bill had settled all the details of their arrangements: Molly would leave on Monday, the day after tomorrow. Her tickets would be waiting at the airport.
    That night Molly slept dreamlessly.

4
    Molly pressed her forehead to the window and stared down at the Cleveland area as it disappeared beneath a fluffy layer of clouds. As the plane whisked her to Boston on the first leg of her journey, she closed her eyes, and the muted hubbub from all the other passengers receded. She felt the vibration of the aircraft through her body. Taking a few deep breaths and rubbing the back of her neck, she resolved not to think about anything but the restful vacation that lay ahead. She would forget all about Michael's surprise at her sudden change in plans when she called to tell him her new summer address. She would forget about Jen's annoyance and the fact that she had not called Kathi to say good-bye. She resolved especially not to think about Jared Bernstein.
    Her mother had not been pleased when she'd learned of Molly's plan to leave. She seemed angry that Bill had made the flight arrangements,