The Bucket List

E i g h t

A knock on the door jolts me awake. "Marcy?" my mom calls through the door. "Everything okay in there?"

I scan the room frantically. Jarred is still asleep by my side, snoring lightly. The computer has slipped off my legs onto the carpeted floor, but that is the least of my worries.

"Everything's fine!" I holler back, jostling Jarred to wake him. He mutters, "Huh? Wha?" groggily as I shove him off the bed. "You need to go. Now."

"Marcy, what's going on?" He demands, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

Mom knocks on the door again. "Why is this door locked?"

Jarred's eyes widen as he realizes what's going on. "We fell asleep?" he guesses, not seeming as disturbed as I'd expected him to be. I nod in return. "Quick, get in the closet."

Jarred complies, stuffing himself into my closet. I can see it's a tight fit, but right now I don't care, and I slam the doors on top of him. Then I regain my composure and head over to the main door, unlocking it and swinging it open.

"Good morning," I exclaim, stepping out of the room and shutting the door behind me. My mom is staring at me strangely, her blond hair swept over one shoulder. "Marcy," she begins. "Were the walls of your room yellow?"

I almost slap myself. How stupid was I, thinking my mother wouldn't notice? "Uh, yeah, they are." I say slowly.

"Oh," my mom nods, and I seem to spot a hint of hurt in her pale features. "When did you repaint it?"

I bite my lip, wondering whether to expose the truth to her or stay insincere. Then I remember Jarred, probably still hiding in my stuffy closet, and how rude it would be to sell him out. "I did it on Saturday," I lie. Today was Monday.

"Oh," my mother says again, nodding her head constantly. "You... You didn't want to wait for me?"

"It just... it kinda felt like something I had to do on my own, y'know?"

She continues nodding. "Okay, I guess. Well, come down for breakfast soon, alright?"

I nod back and watch that she's safely down the hall before slumping on the door, pushing it open with my shoulder. I enter slowly and carefully, making sure my mother is really at a safe distance before I release Jarred from the closet. He inhales a huge breath of air, then coughs. "It smells like paint in here."

"You have to go," I tell him dismally, still unbelieving of the fact that I lied right to my mother's face. He looks at me quizzically. "I thought we were going to school together. I came in my car, after all."

"Fine, just climb out the window, okay?" I ask, grabbing a lime green top and a pair of jeans from my drawer and turning back to him. The same slightly hurt look from my mother is reflected back to me from Jarred's face. "You still haven't told her?" he guesses, frowning when I nod. "How long are you going to lie to her for?"

"As long as it takes, I guess," I have no clue where the words are coming from. "If she knew what we were doing, she would totally freak. I can't hurt her like that." When Jarred doesn't move, I ask him again, "Can you please just go? I have to get dressed."

He sighs and his shoulders slump as he slings the now almost empty duffel bag over his shoulder, then climbs out the window and onto the huge oak tree sprouting out of the ground beside my window. I watch him go, climbing strategically down the thick branches, until he's out of sight.

I quickly get dressed, pulling on the top and jeans and latching a thin, silver bracelet to my left arm. I run my fingers through my red curls, which are still relatively neat, surprisingly, and slip on my shoes before pulling on a black cardigan and heading down the stairs. Mom is already there, waiting with a bowl of fruit salad in her hands.