Lorraine earnestly tried to stay on a good path, but it didn’t bring her any benefits. Lorraine was nice to Charlotte, for which Charlotte wasn’t thankful a bit, taking politeness for granted. Lorraine was obedient and worked hard, but having done the amount of work that, if done at home, would result in enough cookies from Irma to fill a humongous jar or at least three movie tickets from her parents, all she received was intermittent approval from Mrs. Rollings. 

And as if that wasn’t enough…

Lorraine’s wish to go home to Dad and Irma was granted. However, it was the dreaded Charlotte who would accompany her and stay at Lorraine’s very house, until Eugene’s parents would leave and free the spare room at the Allens’ townhouse. All that time, Lorraine’s mom would be helping Mrs. Rollings with her move and the lease contract, temporarily living with Mrs. Rollings instead of staying by Lorraine’s side and not leaving her precious daughter alone with her other daughter.

It had to do with the fact that Charlotte joined Lorraine in signing “You’re a Grand Old Flag”. Lorraine’s wish was made on a patriotic holiday, and the song likely was one of the conditions to have it granted. Charlotte sang with Lorraine and would now be going to Lorraine’s place with Lorraine. As illogical as this thought was, Lorraine was sure that Charlotte began singing on purpose.

And if Charlotte deliberately made Lorraine’s life worse, why should have Lorraine worked towards improving Charlotte’s life - or actually, anyone’s life?

And that is exactly why on July 5th Lorraine had a quarrel with George. 

“Tell me again, why did you come here?” she asked not loudly but in such a high pitch that a nine-year-old boy who was less polite than George would’ve probably covered his ears. She was looking down at him from the top of the concrete stairs that led to the Allens’ townhouse door. 

“Uh, you know…” George began.

“No, I don’t know,” she noted. “Had I known, I wouldn’t be asking you why you came.”

“Just to hang out, I guess,” George shrugged. “As friends.”

“Friends? What made you think we were friends?”

“Well, didn’t we have a nice time yesterday?” George proceeded. “Working together, talking together, then watching fireworks. Maybe we could do something fu–”

“Did you seriously think that a day spent together makes us friends?” Lorraine interrupted. She saw movies and kid TV shows about friendship at school. The silly ones where animals just talked to each other and sang songs to be considered friends didn’t count - those were simply lame. What counted were the stories where friends saved each other from various threats, like fire, drowning, or the principal’s office. She shared her thoughts with George.

“You know nothing of friendship if you thought what we did yesterday made us friends. Besides, I’m leaving today. What’s the point in becoming friends if we will never see each other ever again?”

“We could write to each other… and you will come to Sunshine Hills to visit Charlotte sometimes, won’t you?” Seeing Lorraine’s drilling glance, however, George hurried to shrug, turn around, and start walking down the sidewalk stretching along the townhouses. In a couple of steps, he turned to face her briefly and said:

“And if you haven’t forgotten, I have experience with your type of friendship. Eugene and Charlotte fought a gang for my sake, and then I saved them.”

He then proceeded to walk away, soon starting to jog.

Lorraine never thought his voice could sound so cold.

***

Standing on his knees on the kitchen counter, Eugene was washing the window. The house simply had to look perfect before his parents’ arrival, so he scrubbed every inch of the glass with an old sponge. He was so concentrated that he didn’t even turn around when Lorraine entered the room, stomping heavily on the floor so that everyone would know how annoyed she was.

Lorraine didn’t give up on attracting attention, though. She sat down and sighed loudly. Eugene proceeded scrubbing the window monotonously. 

“Life sucks,” she said at last.

“It sure does,” Eugene replied tensely.

Assured by her success, Lorraine stepped on one of her pre-planned conversation tracks, every single one of which ended with Eugene hearing her out and comforting her.

“Oh, shut it. You're not the one who will have to put up with Charlotte for the next however-many weeks. Why would you complain?”

“Because,” Eugene answered and turned to look over his shoulder, but not at Lorraine - he was making sure there was nobody else in the hearing range. “I’ll have to put up with my parents.”

“But Charlotte — ! She’s so stuck-up and sly and also a –”

She interrupted herself, remembering that Eugene was probably Charlotte’s partner in crime, and without any adults around, it wouldn’t be wise to reveal her suspicions.

“She indeed is,” Eugene replied in a calmer tone, sounding as if he smiled. “But then my parents are… incomparable. All they do is travel and write articles about it, and it’s always about how everyone around the world should look up to the United States and live like we do.”

“Oh, come on. Why would this ever bother you? Charlotte, on the other hand…”

“Charlotte’s all right!” 

“No, she isn’t!” Lorraine screamed. “And stop whining about your parents!”

“Yesterday, I was pretty sure you knew how to listen. What I’m trying to explain is that it’s common to have some people in your life with whom it’s hard to deal, but it doesn’t apply to you. If you carefully consider who Charlotte really is, you’ll –”

“You’re only saying it because you’re lovestruck,” Lorraine mumbled quietly but clearly and even got surprised at her own audacity. Eugene froze for a moment, and Lorraine was already picturing him doing something very mean and painful to her. If it was a movie, the soapy sponge would already be flying in Lorraine’s direction. However, after a few seconds’ pause, all Eugene did was laugh.

“I thought you’d notice that she actually helps people,” he simply said with a chuckle and then became serious again, steadily starting to scrub the window harder and harder. “But then my parents are so used to criticizing everyone that they even complain about Aunt Alice, no matter how hard she tries to please them on their little visits. Last time, my mom said that Aunt Alice is old-fashioned. Of course she is, compared to Mom. Mom recently changed her name from Jillian, which she said had a ‘’50s vibe’, to Kandyce, spelled with a ‘K’. There’s no getting more novel than that.”

“Eugene, dear, I think you’ve done a good job on this window,” Aunt Alice said gently, having entered the kitchen unnoticed.

“Huh?” Eugene was fairly embarrassed. “So… you think it’s clean enough?”

“I think it’s about to acquire a hole.”

“What? Oh,” Eugene understood, blushing even more and taking a wet towel to start wiping the glass. “So what’s next, ma’am? Should I take out and beat the rugs? Oh wait, I’ve done that already…”

Aunt Alice sighed. “I think you can help Lorraine pack up,” she said at last. 

Having set up Eugene to finish her packing all by himself (“So that there’s at least some use for you whiner!”), which he was enthusiastic to do, Lorraine decided to use her last resort - that is, spill everything out to her mom. She knew from movies that good girls didn’t snitch on anyone, but then they were never the same good girls whose life was at threat. And why would it matter now, when Lorraine quit being a good girl? Plus, she thought while going up the stairs where she thought she would find her mom, she wasn’t even a friend of Charlotte’s to have the obligation to keep whatever happened between them a secret.

She knocked on the closed door of one of the bedrooms. It opened, and Lorraine flinched as she saw Charlotte standing next to her mom.

“Hello there,” Charlotte smiled at Lorraine and waved. “Your mom – our mom was just about done talking to me, so by all means, come in.” Lorraine remained motionless. “Oh, do you want to speak in private? See you later, then,” Charlotte said, already hurrying down the stairs.

The moment she was inside the room and the door was closed, Lorraine told her mom absolutely everything – about the fight she saw from afar (not fearing he mom’s displeasure upon finding out she didn’t stay in one spot while left outside the bank), the photos that shocked Dylan, and the sudden change in Margaret and Martha’s attitudes towards Eugene and Charlotte. 

“And then Eugene watched the fireworks with Margaret and Martha and even walked them home, and they never tried to get away from him following them, so there must be something very serious going on!” she concluded, not understanding the lack of her mom’s reaction.

Assured that she was done talking, Lorraine’s mom hugged her daughter but still didn’t look the least worried.

“Thank you for sharing all that, honey,” she said, patting Lorraine on the head, “but you have nothing to worry about when living with your sister. Charlotte is a very nice young lady, and her good side is far wider than her bad side.”

“And her… ‘bad side’ doesn’t worry you at all? Not even that plan she made up to stop Margaret from spreading rumors?” Lorraine asked in disbelief.

“Honey, you haven’t told me anything I didn’t know.”

“Huh?” Lorraine’s jaw literally dropped.

“Charlotte was happy to recount and explain all the recent events to me in the little conversation we just had. I’m afraid you won’t understand why everything you’re concerned about happened - but be assured, you’ll be safe around Charlotte. Besides, you’ll even enjoy those few weeks with your sister, since you liked hanging out with her so much, didn’t you?”

And now, destroyed completely by the consequences of her own attempt to be good, Lorraine only had one hope. It was due to that hope that she managed to get through the long train trip with Charlotte (“Why would you crochet on a train?” “Because knitting needles aren’t allowed. Do you want to learn from me?”), the ride home from their final train station, during which her Dad only talked to Charlotte, and what seemed like hours of laying in her bed, trying to fall asleep so that tomorrow would arrive earlier.

Next morning, Lorraine quietly got dressed and sneaked out of the house. It was around 9am. Her dad had already left for work, but he stayed up late yesterday talking to Charlotte, so Lorraine was sure that her sister was still sleeping in the guest room. Enjoying the warm sun rays, Lorraine descended the stairs of her house, strode along the empty driveway and into the street, and, unable to hold back anymore, started running as fast as she could. Having passed one lawn, she ran up the driveway to the next house on the street and started pounding on the door. 

“Irma, it’s me! I’m back! Irma, open up, I need you!” 

But it was to no avail. Through the living room window, Lorraine didn’t see anyone approaching to open the door.

Instead, a voice came from behind Lorraine’s back.

“Irma’s not there to let you in.” 

Her fist still in the air, Lorraine turned around to see Charlotte standing at the bottom of the staircase.

“Irma’s not around,” she reiterated. 

All the most terrible explanations flooded Lorraine’s mind. She should’ve known that Charlotte could do something to Irma as well. Lorraine knew now she should’ve come to Irma’s place yesterday, never mind the late hour, when the only person who could hear her out and understand her was still there.

“Irma got another summer job at the library. Didn’t you know that? She won’t be back until five or six. But you can hang out with me until then. Besides, I have so many housekeeping things to teach you.”