The Art of Getting Stared At by Laura Langston

health. One of the cornerstonesof her makeup artistry business is that she uses only natural products, and insists her clients do too (although I happen to know she makes an exception when it comes to the heavy duty hair dye she hides in her bathroom vanity).
    â€œThe jury’s still out on that,” Mom says. “I wouldn’t worry.”
    Kim plays her trump card. “We can’t afford it.”
    Dad makes good money as a pilot but Kim’s income as a freelance makeup artist is only modest. And they have a large mortgage, fees for Ella’s private school, and my child support to pay. As Kim often reminds me.
    â€œMom and I added Ella to our plan.” I rustle through the box and pull out the paperwork.
    â€œKids under sixteen are half price,” Mom adds.
    Dad ignores the fury tightening Kim’s face. “That’s very nice. Thank you.”
    â€œYes, thank you, thank you, thank you!” Ella is already dialing. “Look, I’m going to phone home and leave a message. Won’t that be cool!”
    â€œYou can call me too,” I tell her. “I programmed my number in.”
    Kim opens her mouth to comment but her own cell emits its familiar ring tone. Radiation danger clearly forgotten, she quickly digs through her purse and views the screen.
    â€œWho was it?” Dad asks after she tucks the phone away.
    â€œNo one important.” But her colour is up and she won’t meet his gaze. Kim gets a “no one important” phone call just about every time I’m with her. Plus, when Dad’s away, she sometimes goes on these mysterious “errands.” I’ve wondered a few times if she’s having an affair.
    She turns to me. “I understand you’ll be staying with us while your Mom’s away.”
    â€œIt’s not for sure,” I say.
    â€œYour father told me eight weeks,” Kim says. “I’d like to know. I might need you to babysit.”
    Big surprise.
    Ella finally clues in to the conversation. “You’re staying with us for eight weeks?” She claps her hands.
    Shit, shit, shit. “Don’t get excited, Ella. I’m staying with Lexi for part of the time. I might stay with another friend for the rest.”
    â€œYou’ll stay with us,” Dad says firmly. “Your mother and I have already discussed it.”
    â€œI have that video to make, remember? And I have to work with this guy at school.”
    â€œBut I’m giving you money to hire a freelancer.”
    Mom’s lips form an O. “You are?”
    Kim’s lips tighten. “How much?”
    â€œTurns out I’m not allowed to use one so I have to work with a classmate instead,” I tell Dad. “But it’ll be easier if I’m closer to the school.”
    â€œStay with us!” Ella bounces up and down in her seat. “That would be the best birthday present ever. Please Sloane!”
    I’m so furious I can’t speak. Which is just as well. It’s impossible to say no to Ella. Impossible.
    â€œYou have to stay, Sloane.” Ella’s blue eyes plead with me. “Promise?”
    â€œI’ll think about it, Ella Bella Boo. No promises.”
    â€œBut—”
    The server materializes as if I’ve summoned her to myrescue, plopping down plates of eggs and bacon and waffles. “There’s a guy out front who asked if he could join your table.” She gestures with her head to the gift bags on the extra chair. “You might want to make room.”
    Ella cranes her neck. “What guy?”

Four
    I t’s Matt.
    As he slides into the seat beside me, he avoids my gaze, though there’s a touch of pink underneath his freckles. “I can’t stay,” he says, turning to Ella. “But I wanted to wish you happy birthday.” He hands her the wrapped Clarice Bean books we picked out together a few weeks ago. The mango smoothie flips in my stomach. Books.