Кристин Ханна – Rirefly Lane / Улица Светлячков. Книга для чтения на английском языке (страница 19)

“And there would definitely be no smoking.”

Tully stared at her, feeling tears sting her eyes, but that pain was nothing compared to what was going on deep inside her. It felt suddenly as if she were about to fall. “Are you saying I can live with you?”

Mrs. M. leaned forward and touched Tully’s jawline. “I know how hard your life has been up to now, Tully, and I can’t stand for you to go back to that.”

The falling turned into flying, and suddenly Tully was crying for all of it – Gran, the foster family, Cloud. Her relief was the biggest emotion she’d ever felt. With shaking hands, she pulled the crumpled, half-empty pack of cigarettes out of her purse and handed them over.

“Welcome to our family, Tully,” Mrs. M. finally said into the silence, pulling Tully into her arms and letting her cry.

Through all the decades of Tully’s life, she would remember that moment as the beginning of something new for her; the becoming of someone new. While she lived with the loud, crazy, loving Mularkey family, she found a whole new person inside her. She didn’t keep secrets or tell lies or pretend that she was someone else, and never once did they act as if she were unwanted or not good enough. No matter where she went in her later years, or what she did or whom she was with, she would always remember this moment and those words: Welcome to our family, Tully. Always and forever, she would think of that senior year of high school, when she was inseparable from Kate and a part of the family, as the single best year of her life.

Chapter eight

“Girls! Quit lollygagging[110]. We’re going to hit traffic if we don’t leave now.”

In the creaky attic bedroom, Kate stood at the edge of her twin bed, staring down at the open suitcase that contained all of her prized belongings. A framed picture of her grandparents lay on top, wedged between her ribbon-wrapped packet of long-ago letters from Tully and a photo of her and Tully taken at graduation.

Although she’d been looking forward to this moment for months (she and Tully had spun endless late-night dreams, all of which began with the words when we’re in college), now that it was here, she felt reluctant to leave home.

Over the course of their senior year in high school, they’d become a pair. “Tully-and-Kate”. Everyone at school said their two names as one. When Tully became editor of the school paper, Kate was right beside her, helping her to edit the stories. She lived vicariously through her friend’s achievements, rode the wave of her popularity, but all of that had taken place in a world she knew, in a place where she felt safe.

“What if I forgot something?”

Tully crossed the room and came up beside Kate. She closed the suitcase and clamped it shut. “You’re ready.”

“No. You’re ready. You’re always ready,” Kate said, trying not to sound as afraid as she was. It occurred to her suddenly, sharply, how much she’d miss her parents and even her little brother.

Tully stared at her. “We’re a team, aren’t we? The Firefly Lane girls.”

“We have been, but—”

“No buts. We’re going to college together, we’re pledging the same sorority[111], and we’ll be hired by the same TV station. Period. That’s it. We can do it.”

Kate knew what was expected of her, by Tully and everyone else: she was supposed to be strong and courageous. If only she felt it more deeply. But since she didn’t feel it, she did what she often did lately around Tully. She smiled and faked it. “You’re right. Let’s go.”

The drive from Snohomish to downtown Seattle, which usually took about thirty-five minutes, seemed to pass in a blink. Kate barely spoke, couldn’t seem to find her voice, even as Tully and her mom chattered on about the upcoming Rush Week[112] at the sororities. Her mother, it seemed, was more excited about their college adventure than Kate was.

In the towering high-rise of Haggett Hall, they made their way through the loud, crowded corridors to a small, dingy dorm room on the tenth floor. Here was where they’d stay during Rush. When it was over, they’d move into their sorority.

“Well. This is it,” Mr. Mularkey said.

Kate went to her parents and threw her arms around them, forming the famous Mularkey family hug.

Tully stood back, looking oddly left out.

“Geez[113], Tully, get over here,” Mom called out.

Tully rushed forward and let them all embrace her.

For the next hour they unpacked and talked and took pictures. Then, finally, Dad said, “Well, Margie, it’s time. We don’t want to get caught in traffic.” There was one last round of hugs.

Kate clung to her mom, battling tears.

“It’s going to be okay,” Mom said. “Trust in all the dreams you’ve made. You and Tully are going to become the best reporters this state has ever seen. Your dad and I are so proud of you.”

Kate nodded and looked up at her mom through hot tears. “I love you, Mom.”

Much too soon, it was over.

“We’ll call every Sunday,” Tully said behind them. “Right after you get home from church.”

And then, suddenly, they were gone.

Tully flopped on the bed. “I wonder what Rush will be like. I bet every house will want us. How could they not?”

“They’ll want you,” Kate said softly, and for the first time in months she felt like the girl they’d called Kootie all those years ago, the girl in the Coke-bottle glasses and high-water Sears jeans. It didn’t matter that she’d gotten contacts and lost her braces and learned how to put on makeup to enhance her features. The sorority girls would see through all that.

Tully sat up. “You know I won’t join a sorority unless we’re in it together, right?”

“That’s not fair to you, though.” Kate went to the bed and sat down beside her.

“Remember Firefly Lane?” Tully said, lowering her voice. Over the years those words had become a catchall phrase, a kind of shorthand for their memories. It was their way of saying that a friendship begun at fourteen, back when David Cassidy[114] was groovy and a song could make you cry, would last forever.

“I haven’t forgotten.”

“But you don’t get it,” Tully said.

“Get what?”

“When my mom dumped me, who was there for me? When my gran died, who held my hand and took me in?” She turned to Kate. “You. That’s the answer. We’re a team, Kate. Forever friends, no matter what. Okay?” She bumped Kate, made her smile.

“You always get your way.”

Tully laughed. “Of course I do. It’s one of my more endearing traits. Now let’s figure out what we’re going to wear for the first day…”

The University of Washington was everything Tully had hoped it would be and more. Spread out over several miles and comprised of hundreds of gothic buildings, it was a world unto itself. The size daunted Kate, but not Tully; she figured if she could triumph here, she could triumph anywhere. From the moment they moved into their sorority, she began preparing for a reporting job at the networks. In addition to taking the core classes in communications, she made time to read at least four newspapers a day and watch as many newscasts as possible. When her big break came, she was going to be ready.

It had taken her most of the first few weeks of school to get her bearings and figure out what Phase One of the academic plan should be. She’d met with her School of Communications advisor so often that he sometimes avoided her in the hall when he saw her coming, but she didn’t care. When she had questions, she wanted answers.

The problem, once again, was her youth. She couldn’t get into the upper-level broadcasting or journalism classes; no amount of cajoling or prodding could move the behemoth bureaucracy[115] of this huge state school. She simply had to wait her turn.

Not something she was good at.

She leaned sideways and whispered to Kate, “Why is there a science requirement? I won’t need geology to be a reporter.”

“Shhh.”

Tully frowned and sat back in her chair. They were in Kane Hall, one of the biggest auditoriums on campus. From her chair in the nosebleed section[116], crammed in among almost five hundred other students, she could barely see the professor, who’d turned out not to be a professor at all, but rather his teaching assistant.

“We can buy lecture notes. Let’s go. The newspaper office opens at ten.”

Kate didn’t even glance at her, just kept scribbling notes on her paper.

Tully groaned and sat back, crossing her arms in disgust, waiting minute by minute for class to end. The second the bell rang, she shot to her feet. “Thank God. Let’s go.”

Kate finished with her notes and collected her pages, methodically organizing everything in her notebook.

“Are you making paper? Come on. I want to meet the editor.”

Kate stood up and slung her backpack over one shoulder. “We are not going to get a job at the newspaper, Tully.”

“Your mom told you not to be so negative, remember?”

They went downstairs, merging into the loud crowd of students.

Outside, the sun shone brightly on the brick-covered courtyard known as Red Square. Over by Suzzallo Library, a group of long-haired students were gathered beneath a CLEAN UP HANFORD sign.

“Quit complaining to my mom when you don’t get your way,” Kate said as they headed for the Quad. “We can’t even get into journalism classes until we’re juniors.”