Tara Kelly - Harmonic Feedback

HARMONIC
FEEDBACK

TARA KELLY

H ENRY H OLT AND C OMPANY
N EW Y ORK

Henry Holt and Company, LLC
Publishers since 1866
175 Fifth Avenue
New York, New York 10010
www.HenryHoltKids.com Henry Holt is a registered trademark of Henry Holt and Company, LLC.
Copyright 2010 by Tara Kelly
All rights reserved.
Distributed in Canada by H. B. Fenn and Company Ltd. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Kelly, Tara.
Harmonic feedback / Tara Kelly.1st ed.
p. cm.
Summary: When Drea and her mother move in with her grandmother in Bellingham, Washington, the sixteen-year-old finds that she can have real friends, in spite of her Aspergers, and that even when you love someone it does not make life perfect.
ISBN 978-0-8050-9010-9
[1. Interpersonal relationsFiction. 2. Emotional problemsFiction. 3. Self-perceptionFiction. 4. Aspergers syndromeFiction. 5. Drug abuseFiction. 6. Rock musicFiction. 7. Bellingham (Wash.)Fiction.] I. Title.
PZ7.K2984Har 2010
[Fic]dc22 2009024150 First Edition2010
Printed in the United States of America 1 3 5 7 9 10 8 6 4 2

O NE IN THIRTY-EIGHT . Bet on a single number in roulette, and those are the odds of winning. Getting struck by lightning is a little more difficultone in seven hundred thousand. Winning the lottery? Forget it.

But the odds of me ending up homeless were pretty good. Moving in with Grandma Horvath was Moms worst idea yet.

Its beautiful here, dont you think? Mom asked, cutting the engine.

I shrugged and looked out the passenger window at Grandmas house, a turn-of-the-century shack the color of pea soup. My initial impression of Washington was simplethey had trees here. And as far as I could see, that was about it.

I pushed open the squeaky door of Moms Toyota Corolla. It was late August, and wed just driven the 896 miles from San Francisco to Bellingham with a broken air conditioner. Even my toes were sweaty.

Its past six, Grandma Horvath called out to Mom as she scurried out the front door. You said youd be here before five. I hadnt seen her for five years, but she looked exactly the samefrizzy gray hair, sharp eyes, and a pointy mouth smeared with her favorite pink lipstick.

Im sorry. We got caught in rush-hour traffic. Mom gave her a quick embrace.

And you couldnt use that mobile phone you waste your money on? Grandma pulled back, taking in Moms outfit. Youre too old to be wearing such revealing shirts.

Mom ducked away and opened the back of the trailer wed towed. My battery died back in Portland.

Andrea, give me a kiss. Grandmas wedding ring scratched my arm as she pecked my cheek, and I cringed because she smelled like perfume in a public bathroom.

My name is Drea.

Thats not what your birth certificate says. She reached for my blue lunch box. What does someone your age need a lunch box for?

I shoved it behind my back. Its my purse. Dont touch it.

Grandma made a clucking sound with her tongue and joined Mom at the back of the trailer. My neighbor recommended a good doctor for Andreas behavior problems.

What about your behavior problems, Grandma?

Drea, please. Mom rubbed her temples, which meant another migraine was coming on.

Grandmas lips formed a thin line. You spoiled her, Juliana. She turned on her heel and walked away. Her shoulders were nearly up to her ears by the time she got to the porch.

Id promised Mom Id be good. Ignore her , she said. It will make our stay a lot more peaceful, and weve got nowhere else to go right now . Did we ever? We always found somewhere, though; Mom either moved in with a guy or managed to stay at a job longer than six months. Even living with her last boyfriend was a step up from Grandma Horvath. He stole my razors to shave his chest and obsessed over his twenty-nine-inch waist, but Mom dated all kinds of guys. The one thing they had in common was they went awaywhether they left her or we left them.

Did you take your meds? I knew Moms eyes were narrow behind her shades. She did this squinty thing when she asked a question I didnt like.

Nope. I dont feel like being a zombie today.

Yeah, well. Mom set my acoustic guitar case on the ground. Youd feel a lot better if you took them every day like youre supposed to.

I opened my lunch box and grabbed one of three orange bottles. This is speed in a bottle.

It gets you to think before you speak. I call that a miracle in a bottle. She tied her wavy blond hair into a ponytail, but strands stuck to her neck.

You cant fix everything with pills.

Mom held her hand up, fingers spread wide. Her stop sign. Im not getting into this right now, Drea.

You never want to get into it.

Mom sighed and put her hand on my cheek. I know youre mad, baby. But were stuck until I find a job. She nodded toward Grandmas house. And Grandma is helping us out a lot. Medi-Cal wont cover us up here. Shes offered to pay for your doctor visits and meds for now. So, please, please dont antagonize her, okay?

She talks to you like youre five.

Mom rubbed her temples. Shes difficultyesbut she means well.

Living out of your old pickup truck was better than this.

Mom smirked and handed me a box of effect pedals for my guitar. Oh, yeah? Do you miss Cheetos that much?

My stomach turned at just the thought. Mom decided to go to some campground in California once where the only sign of life was a dirty gas station. I lived on cherry cola and ninety-nine-cent bags of Cheetos because I didnt trust anything there that didnt come in a sealed bag or bottle.

Im going to take these in, I said, right before colliding with a strange girl standing behind me.

She looked about my age but stood a couple inches taller. Judging from the band on her T-shirt, she had horrible taste in music. Hi, youre Andrea, right?

Its Drea.

Mom heaved a sigh behind me. She thought I was being rude when I didnt offer a bubbly hello and plaster a big smile on my face. Strangers made me nervous; I always ended up saying too much or too little.

The girl grinned even wider, and her blue eyes sparkled despite the dark eye shadow around them. Im Naomi. I live in that light blue matchbox across the street. She nodded to an aging house with an overgrown yard. My dad sent me over to ask if you needed any help.

Definitely. Thanks for offering. Mom smiled and held out her hand to Naomi. Im Juli. Its nice to meet you.

Naomi tucked a lock of tangled purple hair behind her ear, revealing a skull stud. You too. She glanced back at me, her eyes falling on my guitar case. Dude, you play guitar?

Yes. I played a mean rhythm, but processing and manipulating sound through my computer was my passion. Unfortunately, most people didnt understand the concept of sound design. Mom told me not to bring it up unless someone asked.

Naomi grabbed a box and followed me into the house. I caught a whiff of something that smelled like boiled cabbage and potpourri. Dont ask me what that smell is because I have no clue, I said over my shoulder, heading downstairs to the basement.

Naomi giggled. Its cool. You should see it when my dad tries to make egg salad. He burns the eggs every time, and our house smells like a sewer for a week.

I yanked the lightbulb cord so we didnt trip over anything. The basement reeked of mildew, but it was roomy and dark. Just the way I liked it. My grandma thinks liver and mustard sandwiches with boiled milk make a tasty dinner.

Naomi wrinkled her nose at me. Boiled milk, for real?

I set my guitar case and box of effect pedals on the floor. Yeah, it gets this layer on top that looks like crusty skin and

Stop! She winced. Where do I put this?

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