My fault ( Mercedes Ron)

* CHAPTER 1 *

While I rolled the window of my mother's car up and down, I couldn't stop thinking what the next hellish year had in store for me. I couldn't stop asking myself how we'd ended up like this, leaving our home to cross the country on our way to California. Three months had passed since I'd gotten the terrible news that would change my life forever, the same news that would make me want to cry at night, that would make me rant and rave like I was eleven instead of seventeen.

But what could I do? I wasn't an adult. I had eleven months, three weeks, and two days to go before I turned eighteen and could go away to college, far away from a mother who only thought about herself, far from these strangers I'd end up living with, because from now on I would have to share my life with two people I knew nothing about-two men, to make mat- ters worse.

"Can you stop doing that? You're get- ting on my nerves," my mother said as she put the keys in the ignition and started the car.

"Lots of things you do get on my nerves, and I have to put up and shut up," I hissed back. The loud sigh I heard

in reply was so routine, it didn't even

surprise me.

How could she make me do this? Didn't she even care about my feelings? Of course I do, she'd told me as we were leaving my beloved hometown. Six years had passed since my parents split-and nothing about their divorce had been conventional, let alone ami- cable. It had been incredibly traumatic, but in the end, I'd gotten over it...or, at least, I was trying to.

It was hard for me to adapt to change; I was terrified of strangers. I'm not timid, but I'm reserved about my private life, and having to share twenty-four hours of every day with two people I barely knew made me so anxious, I wanted to get out of the car and throw up.

"I still can't understand why you won't let me stay," I said, trying to con- vince her one last time. "I'm not a little girl. I know how to take care of myself. Plus, I'll be in college next year, and I'll be living on my own in another country then. It's basically the same thing," I ar- gued, trying to get her to see the light and knowing that everything I was say- ing was true.

"I'm not going to miss out on your last year in high school. I want to enjoy my daughter before she goes away to study. I told you a thousand times, Noah-you're my child, I want you to be part of this new family. For God's sake! You really think I'm going to let you go that far away from me without a sin- gle adult?" she answered, keeping her eyes on the road and gesturing with her right hand.

My mother didn't understand how hard this was for me. She was starting a new life with a new husband she sup- posedly loved. But what about me?

"You don't get it, Mom. Did you never stop to think that this is my last year of high school? That all my friends are here, my boyfriend, my job, my team?

My whole life!" I shouted, trying to hold back tears. The situation was getting the best of me, that much was clear. I never, and I mean never, cried in front of anyone. Crying was for weaklings, people who can't control their feelings. I was someone who'd cried so much in the course of my life that I'd decided never to shed another tear.

Those thoughts reminded me of when all the madness began. I still re- gretted not going with my mother on that damn cruise to Fiji. Because it was there, on a boat in the middle of the South Pacific, that she'd met the incred- ible, enigmatic William Leister.

If I could go back in time, I wouldn't hesitate a second to tell my mother yes when she showed up in the middle of April with two tickets so we could go on vacation together. They'd been a present from her best friend, Alicia. The poor thing had broken her right leg, an arm, and two ribs in a car ac- cident. Obviously, she and her husband couldn't go off to the islands, so she gave the trip to my mom. But come on now-mid-April? I was in the middle of exams, and the volleyball team had back-to-back games. My team had just climbed from second place to first, and that hadn't happened as long as I could remember. It was one of the greatest joys of my life. Now, though, seeing the consequences of staying home, I'd happily give back my trophy, leave the team, and fail English Lit and Spanish just to keep that wedding from ever happening.