Jaime’s mouth turned up in a half-smile as she turned toward the hall. “I’ll give you the grand tour when I get out,” she called out from the bathroom. The spray of the water hit the shower curtain, quickly muffling as Jaime slammed the door shut.
Hazel rubbed her forehead and sighed, turning back to the pile of new clothes on her bed. She knew she should keep unpacking, but her eyes stung and her body ached. She swung her legs around the bag and curled up against the wall, glancing out the window at the main house across the lawn. Soft yellow light spilled out of the windows and Hazel tried to picture Rosanna inside.
She let her mind wander, imagining what it would be liketo stay in the main house, instead of out here with Jaime, who seemed intent on making their time together as uncomfortable as possible. But Hazel wasn’t here to make friends, she reminded herself. She was here to know her mother.
Hazel felt her eyelids growing heavy and she rolled over, wisps of her half-dyed hair falling over her face. It wouldn’t hurt to rest for a minute, just until Jaime got out of the shower. Just a minute, and maybe they could start over. Maybe after a shower and a quick little nap, everything would look different.
9
“R ise and shine, Slumberella.”
Hazel blinked her eyes open as Jaime threw back the curtains, flooding the room with dusty sunlight. Hazel rolled over to face the wall. There was a faint thumping at the back of her head and it took her a few moments of staring at the knotted wood panels to remember where she was.
“Since you slept through your tour, I guess we’ll have to do it now.” Jaime was standing at the foot of Hazel’s bed, twisting a handful of coarse dark hair and stabbing it with yesterday’s pencil.
Hazel looked down to see that she was still wearing Rosanna’s yellow shirt and jeans. She pushed herself up on her elbows and blinked as Jaime pulled a sweatshirt out of the bottom dresser drawer. Even though it was late June, Hazel could feel an early morning chill slipping in through the window. “What time is it?” she mumbled, checking the corners of her mouth for drool.
“This isn’t vacation, Blondie,” Jaime spat, tugging up the zipper on her navy blue sweatshirt and making her way toward the door. “You’re in my world now, and sleeping in is
not
on the agenda. Meet me downstairs in five.”
Jaime flashed Hazel a fake smile and pulled the door shut.
Hazel flopped back on the bed. Less than twenty-four hours ago, she had been walking around San Francisco, where everything was familiar and things made sense. Now she was in a different place, in a different time, sharing a room with a girl who made
different
seem like something to shoot for.
Hazel flung back the sheets and pulled on another pair of Rosanna’s jeans and a well-worn button-down shirt. The material was soft on her skin and smelled faintly of suntan lotion. Hazel buried her face in the collar, breathing in her mother’s scent as deeply as she could. In the bathroom, she splashed some water on her face and glanced at her reflection in the mirror. Out of habit, she looked up to the corner where she kept the photo of Wendy at home, and found herself wondering what Roy was doing now. Would he be worried yet? Had he even noticed she was gone?
Hazel dried her hands on a towel and hurried down the stairs. Jaime had been sitting on the porch steps, but started out across the lawn as soon as Hazel reached the door.
Hazel skipped to keep up. The property looked even more pristine than it had the day before, green and lush and practically vibrating in the sun. The air was sweet and cool, and the grass was damp with dew.
She followed Jaime up to the main house and through the sturdy front door. Inside, the house was elegant but understated. An antique chandelier greeted them in the grand foyer,and Hazel glanced across the open living room, all white furniture with a massive stone hearth, to a wall of windows,
Hazel rubbed her forehead and sighed, turning back to the pile of new clothes on her bed. She knew she should keep unpacking, but her eyes stung and her body ached. She swung her legs around the bag and curled up against the wall, glancing out the window at the main house across the lawn. Soft yellow light spilled out of the windows and Hazel tried to picture Rosanna inside.
She let her mind wander, imagining what it would be liketo stay in the main house, instead of out here with Jaime, who seemed intent on making their time together as uncomfortable as possible. But Hazel wasn’t here to make friends, she reminded herself. She was here to know her mother.
Hazel felt her eyelids growing heavy and she rolled over, wisps of her half-dyed hair falling over her face. It wouldn’t hurt to rest for a minute, just until Jaime got out of the shower. Just a minute, and maybe they could start over. Maybe after a shower and a quick little nap, everything would look different.
9
“R ise and shine, Slumberella.”
Hazel blinked her eyes open as Jaime threw back the curtains, flooding the room with dusty sunlight. Hazel rolled over to face the wall. There was a faint thumping at the back of her head and it took her a few moments of staring at the knotted wood panels to remember where she was.
“Since you slept through your tour, I guess we’ll have to do it now.” Jaime was standing at the foot of Hazel’s bed, twisting a handful of coarse dark hair and stabbing it with yesterday’s pencil.
Hazel looked down to see that she was still wearing Rosanna’s yellow shirt and jeans. She pushed herself up on her elbows and blinked as Jaime pulled a sweatshirt out of the bottom dresser drawer. Even though it was late June, Hazel could feel an early morning chill slipping in through the window. “What time is it?” she mumbled, checking the corners of her mouth for drool.
“This isn’t vacation, Blondie,” Jaime spat, tugging up the zipper on her navy blue sweatshirt and making her way toward the door. “You’re in my world now, and sleeping in is
not
on the agenda. Meet me downstairs in five.”
Jaime flashed Hazel a fake smile and pulled the door shut.
Hazel flopped back on the bed. Less than twenty-four hours ago, she had been walking around San Francisco, where everything was familiar and things made sense. Now she was in a different place, in a different time, sharing a room with a girl who made
different
seem like something to shoot for.
Hazel flung back the sheets and pulled on another pair of Rosanna’s jeans and a well-worn button-down shirt. The material was soft on her skin and smelled faintly of suntan lotion. Hazel buried her face in the collar, breathing in her mother’s scent as deeply as she could. In the bathroom, she splashed some water on her face and glanced at her reflection in the mirror. Out of habit, she looked up to the corner where she kept the photo of Wendy at home, and found herself wondering what Roy was doing now. Would he be worried yet? Had he even noticed she was gone?
Hazel dried her hands on a towel and hurried down the stairs. Jaime had been sitting on the porch steps, but started out across the lawn as soon as Hazel reached the door.
Hazel skipped to keep up. The property looked even more pristine than it had the day before, green and lush and practically vibrating in the sun. The air was sweet and cool, and the grass was damp with dew.
She followed Jaime up to the main house and through the sturdy front door. Inside, the house was elegant but understated. An antique chandelier greeted them in the grand foyer,and Hazel glanced across the open living room, all white furniture with a massive stone hearth, to a wall of windows,
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