You’re Invited Too by Jen Malone and Gail Nall

cards in art class?”
    â€œUm, well . . . ,” I stammer. Mom’s eyes narrow even more as she squints at the card.
    â€œThat’s so weird. Isaac Malix is the name of a groom whose wedding I was planning before I . . . before I was . . .” Mom’s voice trails off like she’s trying to put her finger on something. She gazes off at a spot over my right shoulder.
    I swallow the frog that has apparently taken up residence in my throat while I wait for things to click with Mom. She blinks and her eyes widen.
    There it is.
    Mom turns to me. “Sadie?”
    It’s like my brain has fuzz growing on it, and I can barely form a sentence that makes sense. “I, um, yeah. No. I mean, I was gonna . . . I was trying to . . .”
    Izzy’s head swings back and forth between us, and her forehead wrinkles like she’s working a long-division problem in her head.
    I try again, and this time all my words slur together: “It’sjustthatIwasgonnatellyoubutAlexandraWorthingtonsaidshewantedtoworkwiththebestwhichissillybecauseofcourseyou’rethebestbut—”
    Mom holds her hand up. “Stop.”
    She pinches the top of her nose with her fingers and shakes her head. Then she takes a deep breath and looks at me. I can’t believe this is all going down on the floor under the kitchen table, of all places.
    â€œSo, let me see if I have this straight. I was fired by my bride. Who then turned around and hired you and your friends? Am I getting it right so far?”
    Mom’s voice sounds totally even, so I can’t get a read on what she’s feeling. Is she mad? Or not?
    I nod and avoid her eyes. Izzy inches out from under the table and slinks out of sight (although I’m guessing she goes somewhere she can listen in on every word).
    â€œAnd when did this all happen?” Mom asks.
    â€œUm, last month,” I manage.
    â€œI see.” Again with that totally even, everyday voice. Like we’re talking about what time high tide is or where we should order dinner. “And you didn’t think it was maybe something you should mention to me?”
    â€œUm . . .” I trail off and study my palm like the map to Atlantis is hiding between my life line and my love line.
    Mom sighs deeply. “I have to tell you, Sadie, I’m very disappointed. Not so much about you planning the wedding, though I’ll admit that I’m a little concerned about you taking on the responsibility of such an important event. I’m sure you girls are fantastic at what you do, but I can’t really imagine what Alexandra was thinking. The part that really bothers me is that you hid it from me all this time. Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”
    â€œWell, no, but . . .” I can’t think of what else I want to say, so I close my mouth.
    Mom sits quietly, waiting. After what feels like forever, she pushes up off the floor and stands. She folds and refolds one of the rags in her hands.
    Finally she says, “Sadie, I’ve given you a lot of freedom and a lot of responsibility, because you’ve always been mature for your age. But I have to tell you, these are not the actions of a mature girl. You’ve broken my trust in you, and I’ll be honest, it’s going to take a while for you to earn that back.”
    The frog is back in my throat and it’s settling in for a long stay. I can barely swallow. I curl my legs in under the table. Mom grabs her keys off the counter and calls out, “Izzy! Come on, sweets! We’re going out to grab more milk.”
    I listen to the door click shut and the car’s engine start, and, finally, it fades away down the street, but I can’t move as tears slide down my face.
    This is maybe the worst feeling ever.
    First my mom fires me because I’m so incompetent. And now she full-on hates me.

SANDPIPER BEACH VOLUNTEER SEA TURTLE