Finding X

Chapter Seven

Find X.

X = what will make everything better.

Now I have to find coefficients that equal X.

Something + Something = X.

. . . I’ve always sucked at algebra.

Valentine’s Day. Yippee, yahoo. Happy, happy day. Connie had tried to apologize to me late last night, but I’d been too angry. Now I just felt guilty.

            I sat in my room and tried to figure out how to make sure Max was out of the house for a nice long time so I could bring the decorations there. He would most likely be working all day, but I had no idea when he might burst in on me while I’m decorating. I had to make sure he was out and would stay out.

            “Mom?” I called, practically falling down the stairs. “I’m taking my bike to town. I won’t be long!” I didn’t wait for her to ask me why. I slipped on my coat, made sure I had a few coins in my pockets, and ran out the door, my boots slipping on the icy steps.

            By car, the ride to town might take about five minutes, and so by bike it was doubled. But for me it took even longer; I was going extra slowly because I was looking for a payphone.

            After twenty minutes of the most awkward kind of transportation (riding a bike on ice with a puffy coat and big heavy boots) I found an old-fashioned payphone in the middle of a sort of park. There were trees surrounding it with some benches. There was a fountain in the middle but now it was covered with a tarp. It might’ve been peaceful if it wasn’t right in the center of an intersection.

            I dismounted the bike and leaned it against a tree. I felt safe among the trees because if Max or someone drove past, they wouldn’t see me. I dug out several coins from my pocket and dropped them into the slot of the payphone. It was so old-fashion, I didn’t know these things still existed.

            I dialed Max’s cell phone number, glad that I had been smart enough to use a payphone. He’d have recognized my cell phone number any day.

            “Max’s Towing. Can I help you?” he said when he picked up.

            I took a deep breath, pitched my voice five times higher, made it light and airy, and added an English accent just to be on the safe side. English was always my best accent, thanks to all my practice with Mom. “Hello . . . my car’s engine suddenly went up in flames. I–I don’t know what happened. I was driving and then . . . BOOM!”

            “Oh dear,” Max said. “I hope you’re okay.”

            “Oh yes, never better. I just need to get somewhere very quickly and I guess my car had other plans. I heard you owned the best tow trucking company in the area and so I thought I’d call you.”

            “Of course, ma’am. Where are you?”

            I looked around, having not thought about where the desperate lady was. “At a payphone in the middle of a street,” I said, sounding miserable and cold.

            “Yes but, where?”

            I groaned inwardly. I had to choose someplace far enough away so that it would take Max a nice long time to get there. “Somewhere in Gainesville, I think,” I said, choosing a town about forty-five minutes away from Max’s. “Eh, next to the . . . Burger King. My name is Patsy Mullin and I’ll holler when I see your truck. Thank you, bye!” I hung up quickly. I wasn’t sure whether or not I’d given Max enough information and I didn’t want to find out. My brain wasn’t moving as fast as my mouth, making it hard to think of things right on the spot.