The End of Forever (2 page)

“Erin! Come help me get dinner on the table,” Mrs. Bennett called.

Erin wandered into the kitchen. “I thought it was Amy’s turn to help with dinner tonight,” she said. “Where is Amy, anyway?”

“She’s working on a history paper that’s due tomorrow, and I’m running behind.” Her mother rattled pots and pans. “Honestly, I don’t know why I ever thought owning my own boutique was a good idea. Customers are so scarce that I should just shut down the place until spring comes.”

“Doing a paper! What about
my
homework?”

“Your father and I have the faculty party tonight at Briarwood. I didn’t think I’d
ever
get out of the store. Thank goodness Inez could stay until nine and close the place up.” She paused from her task of measuring water for rice and pinned Erin with a glance. “You
are
working this Saturday, aren’t you? I’m counting on you to hold the fort all day since neither Inez nor I can come in.”

Erin almost exploded. “But it’s Amy’s turn to work. I promised Ms. Thornton I’d help the freshmen dancers for the Terpsicord recital. And speaking of the dance recital, Amy was late again today for our rehearsal.
We’re never going to get it together for the show if she can’t show up on time for practices.”

“You’ve got plenty of time before the show,” Mrs. Bennett said. “Besides, I think I gave Amy permission to go do something with the Drama Club on Saturday. Some car wash, I think.”

“But it’s her turn to work! Just like it’s her turn to do dinner.”

“Amy’s filled in for you plenty of times, Erin. All last week in fact, while you took those extra dance classes.”

“But I traded with her two weeks ago so that I’d have last week free.”

“Erin, I really don’t have time to quibble over how you and Amy keep scorecards over chores. I need help
now.
You know how your father hates to be late. And don’t forget, if he wasn’t on the faculty at Briar-wood, we’d never be able to afford to send you girls there.”

Erin held her breath and counted to ten. She didn’t have to be reminded that she wasn’t in the same league as the rest of the school body, which included Tampa’s richest and most socially elite families. Nor was it easy having her sister
and
father at the same school with her. Erin was grateful that he taught computer science, which wasn’t a part of her liberal-arts curriculum, so their paths had never crossed in the classroom. Perhaps that was another reason why Amy irked her. It never seemed to bother
her
that they were different from the other girls.

“Erin?” Mrs. Bennett said. “Are you going to stand there staring into space all evening?”

Erin started. “All right, I’ll help tonight,” she grumbled. “But it really
is
Amy’s turn, and I swear this is the last time I get roped into doing
her
chores. You let Amy get away with murder.”

“Don’t be so dramatic.” Mrs. Bennett paused from chopping vegetables. “You know how it is with Amy. Sometimes it seems as if we let her get away with too much; but Erin, you’ve always been the dependable one. I can always count on you.”

“Thanks,” Erin muttered, not feeling at all as if she’d been complimented.

Later, sitting at the dinner table, Amy entertained them all with stories about her day at school, and Erin found it impossible to stay mad. Amy
did
have a dramatic streak, and she smiled at Amy’s accurate imitation of Miss Hutton’s high-pitched nasal voice. “ ‘Miss Bennett,’ ” Amy mimicked, telling a story on herself. “ ‘If we are going to read Edna St. Vincent Millay aloud, it would behoove us to have read her poetry silently first, now wouldn’t it?’ ”

Mr. Bennett chuckled deeply. “That’s exactly how she sounds at faculty meetings too.”

“You two are awful,” Mrs. Bennett said. “She’s just a lonely woman whose whole life is wrapped up in that school and you kids.”

“She does donate a lot of her time to charity work,” Amy said. “And I’m not knocking her; I just think she’s funny.”

Erin half listened to the rest of the dinner conversation.
She wished she could make her parents laugh the way Amy could. Why couldn’t she be less serious about school, her dancing, her whole life? Why did she always feel so out of sync? She looked across the table at Amy. How could two such different people come from the same family? How could two such different individuals coexist in the same house until the day Erin would leave for college?

Erin began to count the days until she would be on her own and free of her pain-in-the-neck, easygoing sister, Amy.

Later, when their parents had gone out and Erin was alone in her bedroom doing homework, Amy knocked on her door. “I’m busy,” Erin announced.

“But I’m lonely.”

“How can you be lonely with your radio going full blast? And didn’t you just get off the phone?”

Amy cracked open the door and poked her head inside. “I had to tell Travis you were driving me in tomorrow for that—ugh—seven
A.M
. rehearsal.”

“Dont you dare complain! If you were on time for afternoon rehearsals, this one wouldn’t be necessary.”

Amy stepped into Erin’s room. “Don’t gripe at me.”

“Do you know I work out every morning before school starts?” Erin put her hands on her hips and stood in Amy’s path. “Just think, I’ve stretched and danced for an hour before you even get to your homeroom.”

“That’s why you’re a dancer and I’m into acting. Plays happen at night. Then you go home and sleep until noon.”

Erin felt exasperated enough to shake Amy. “You’re impossible. Now would you please leave? Unlike some people, I didn’t get my work done earlier.”

“Are you still mad about that?”

“And about working at the boutique Saturday—”

“Half a day,” Amy interrupted. “That’s all I’m asking, just one teensy, weensy half a day. The afternoon half. I’ll do the morning because I know you’re supposed to help Ms. Thornton—”

“No way,” Erin was adamant.

Amy dropped dramatically to her knees and clasped her hands. “Oh please,
please?
I’ll be your best friend.”

Erin stepped around her, out the door, and headed down the hall. “Buzz off. I won’t do it.”

Amy started after her on her knees, her arms pumping at her sides. Erin refused to watch, because Amy looked so ridiculous, she was afraid shed laugh and give in to her. “I mean it, Amy, leave me alone.” Erin ducked inside Amy’s bedroom to escape and stopped short.

Amy almost rammed into the back of her. “What’s the matter?”

“Good grief, Amy. It looks like a survival camp in here.” Erin stared in dismay at the upheaval. The bed was unmade, clothes hung from chairs and half-open drawers, even the bedside lamp. Papers and books were scattered about the floor.

“My goodness,” Amy said mildly. “Maybe thieves broke in.”

“How can you
live
like this?”

Amy flounced on her bed, sending pillows and clothes flying. “One of us is neat and orderly, and one of us isn’t.” She smiled innocently.

“It’s nothing to brag about, you know.”

Amy jumped off the bed and hauled Erin next to her in front of the mirror. “Look at us, Erin. You’re tall, blond, and graceful, and I’m—well—short, round, and fully packed.” She patted her hips.

Erin tried not to smile. “What’s your point?”

“We’re different, that’s all. You got the looks, talent, and brains, and I got”—Amy tousled her shoulder-length curly dark hair—“dandruff.”

Against her will Erin laughed. “All right, you win. You sure can wear a person down, Amy. I’ll go in for you on Saturday. But this is positively, absolutely the last time I bail you out because you’ve overcommitted.”

Amy smiled broadly and gave Erin a quick hug. Then she took a frizzy red clown’s wig off her dresser and put it on her head. On her nose she stuck a fat, round red bulb. “What do you think?”

“You look like Bozo.”

“Good. I told Miss Hutton I’d do a gig for the Children’s Home at Easter.”

“I thought you didn’t like her.”

“She’s okay, but don’t tell anybody I said so. I like doing crazy things like this and making people laugh. I know it’s silly, and it’s not half as important as your dancing, but it’s me.”

“Amy, my dancing is no more important than your acting. You’ll be a great actress someday—
if
you ever get serious about life.”

Amy gasped in horror. “Oh, I hope I
never
get serious. What would people think?”

“I’ve got to get back to my homework,” Erin said, shaking her head in exasperation.

“Wait a minute.” Still wearing the wig and nose, Amy dashed to her desk and picked up a packet of snapshots. “Did I show you these yet? They’re the photos Travis and I took on Christmas Day at his house.”

Erin tried to keep her expression blank as she sorted through them, but in truth she was tied in knots. Why did she have to be so attracted to him?

Amy leaned over her elbow. “That’s the one of him kissing me under the mistletoe. His little brother took it, and I thought Travis was going to kill him.”

Erin’s heart ached, and she quickly handed the photos back to Amy. “They’re nice.”

“I don’t know why Travis is interested in
me,”
Amy mused. “I mean he’s only the hottest thing at Berkshire Prep. I think every girl at Briarwood is in love with him.”

“Not everyone,” Erin said, looking away as she said it.

“Well, of course I didn’t mean you. But a lot of them are. Cindy Pitzer for instance.” Amy made a face. “She’s been telling people she really likes him and that she’s going after him.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Erin said.
“You’re
the one he’s dating.”

“True,” Amy said with a bright smile. She tossed the photos onto her dresser and turned toward Erin. “Oh, by the way, a couple of Travis’s friends have asked me about you. If you ever want to double with us—”

“No,” Erin interrupted sharply, too sharply, and Amy gave her a surprised look. “I mean, thanks but no thanks. Between school and dance classes, I haven’t got time for dating. You know how much I want to go to Florida State, and the competitions stiff.”

“But that’s two years away.”

“I have to concentrate on one thing at a time.”

“Well, if you change your mind …”

“You’ll be the first to know.” Despite Amy’s protests Erin returned to her room, but she found she couldn’t get back into studying. She thought about Saturday and her promise to work for her sister. Why had she let Amy talk her into it? Why did she always give in to Amy’s pleas? “Because she’s just
Amy,”
Erin explained to the empty room.

With a sense of vengeance, she quickly set her alarm clock for five-thirty, relishing the thought of dragging her sister out of bed for the early rehearsal. At least Amy would be on time for
something.

On Saturday morning Erin poked through the racks of clothes in her mother’s boutique while eyeing the clock. She’d been on duty an hour, and not one customer had stepped through the door. Outside the day looked bleak and blustery, and the parking lot for the small shopping center was nearly deserted. The cool, cloudy day meant there would be few who wanted their cars washed, so the Drama Club’s fundraiser would probably be a flop. “Serves Amy right,” she muttered.

Erin spied a bright red jumpsuit and impulsively
snatched it off the rack and dashed into a dressing room. She emerged and stood at the three-way mirror. The outfit made her look years older, more sophisticated. “Wow,” she mumbled, hardly recognizing herself. She wondered if Travis would think she looked pretty. She closed her eyes and imagined that he was standing next to her.

“Not bad, Erin. You look terrific.”

The voice startled Erin. Her eyes flew open wide. In the mirror she saw Travis Sinclair, and he was looking over her shoulder, straight into the glass, straight into her eyes.

“Travis! I—uh—I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I know. I’m sorry if I scared you.” He glanced around the deserted shop. “Where’s Amy? She told me she was working today.”