Dead to You

  As soon as I let go, Blake flies out of his chair, nearly wipes out as he runs down the hallway to his room. He slams the door and yells something unintelligible.

  I quickly pick up my chair and set it upright, unable to look at Mama. I feel like I let her down. And everybody else just sits there, shocked. I don’t think they’re used to family dinners like this.

  Gracie breaks the silence. I can see her eyes tearing up. “That was scary,” she says. Her lip quivers. And then she starts crying.

  Fuck.

  “He punched me,” I say, defending myself, and I feel like I’m babbling, but I have to say something. I have to explain. “He punched me first, like, totally out of the blue. I didn’t hurt him. I didn’t even laugh at him.” And now I’m scared too. I rub my sore shoulder as Mama and Dad look at each other, silently discussing with their eyes what to do next.

  “Stay put,” Dad says calmly. He and Mama get up to go talk privately, leaving their food, and it’s just me and Gracie left at the table.

  She looks at me, all blubbery and scared.

  “I’m sorry, Gracie. I didn’t hurt him, okay? He startled me when he punched me and I just reacted. I’m sorry you’re scared.”

  She just sits there, sad-faced.

  A minute later, Blake’s door opens wide and he starts throwing shit out into the hallway. All my stuff—my clothes, my backpack, my shoes. He’s cussing, yelling crazy things.

  Gracie covers her ears. And I can hear Dad coming.

  I look at Gracie and shake my head, pushing my chair back. “Sorry, kid,” I say. “I gotta go.” And I feel bad. I do.

  I slip out to the mudroom, grab my coat and hat, shove my feet in my boots, and I’m out the door.

  CHAPTER 26

  From the street, I glance up at the big picture window, and there’s Gracie, nose pressed against it, her little hands cupped around her eyes, peering out at me. The snow is coming down hard, and there’s at least six fresh inches on the roads since the last snowplow came through this afternoon. I’m worked up enough to not be freezing quite yet, but I know I won’t make it out here for long.

  Not to mention, I still don’t really know my way around. But I do know there’s a gas station nearby. I head that way. Maybe I can hang out there for a while.

  My thighs are nearly numb by the time I get there, but I manage to feel the vibration of my cell phone in my pocket. I’m still not used to that. Anyway, I figure it’s Mama. Gracie would have told them by now.

  But it’s not Mama.

  It’s not Blake, or Dad.

  It’s a text from Cami.

  What r u doing?

  My thumbs are numb. And I’m really slow at this. Plus, the guy at the counter is giving me the hairy eyeball.

  nothing just wandering around

  It takes me a long minute to type it, and my nose is dripping. I shove the phone back into my pocket and pretend to look at milk in the refrigerator case.

  In a ridiculously short amount of time, she replies.

  we need 2 talk

  I move to the chip aisle, staying in plain sight of the clerk so he doesn’t freak out. I write back:

  I’m coming over, k?

  And I don’t wait for her reply. I take off out the door, not too fast, so I don’t look suspicious. On the way to Cami’s, working against the snow and wind, my phone buzzes again. It’s Dad. I don’t want to answer, but I know they’ll keep calling. They’re freaking out, I’m sure.

  “Hey, Dad.”

  “Ethan, where are you? Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine. I’m just out for a bit. Taking a walk.”

  He’s quiet, and I picture him, working his jaw. “Where? We need to know where you are.”

  “I’m fine, Dad.” I’m breathing hard, running to get to Cami’s.

  “Ethan, come home this instant. Or you’re grounded.”

  I’m walking up Cami’s driveway now, and I see her looking out the window, behind the curtains. “Dad, seriously. It’s what, like seven thirty? Are you kidding me?”

  “Ethan,” he says, and even with the wind whistling around my head, I can hear his voice change to pleading. “Please come home. Your mother is very worried about you.”

  I shake my head and stomp off my boots on Cami’s step. She opens the door. “Tell Mama I’m sixteen, not seven. Gotta go.” I wipe the snow off my coat and hat as much as I can, and then I step inside.

  Cami’s not smiling.

  Neither am I.

  CHAPTER 27

  “Hi.” I stand there in her entryway like an idiot.

  “I said don’t come over.” Cami folds her arms over her chest.

  “Sorry. I was on the phone. I must have missed that. Besides, you were watching out the window for me.”

  “Yeah, so I could tell you to leave.”

  I take off my hat and gloves. Unzip my coat. “Please don’t make me leave. If I go home now, the terrorists win.”

  She tries not to laugh. “Was that your dad on the phone?”

  “Yeah. They’re treating me like I’m still seven. I can’t go anywhere without them knowing where I am. They’re currently threatening to ground me if I don’t come home immediately.”

  “Ah,” Cami says. She’s eyeing me.

  “Plus I need to thank your mother for the cookies from a couple weeks ago.”

  “They were brownies.”

  “Right.” I smile as sweetly as I can. “Please?”

  She steps back, shaking her head but waving her hand at the coat hooks. “Fine,” she mutters.

  I go inside and spend a few minutes with Cami’s parents, catching up. Which means they tell me things I used to do and I smile and nod and pretend to be delighted about playing Easy-Bake Oven and Barbies with Cami. And then we go downstairs and hang out in the rec room. It’s really nice and cozy down here, kind of like how I’d want our house to be.

  Cami flops into a chair, leaving me the couch. She’s not taking any chances.

  “So,” she says coolly. “You want to explain what the hell you were doing, kissing me?”

  “Uh . . . ,” I say. “I was being an ass.”

  “Seriously.”

  “Seriously being an ass, yes. I’m sorry.”

  “A big, big, gigantic ass.”

  “Yes. That.” I nod.

  She seems satisfied. “I’m not going to tell Jason, in case you’re wondering.”

  It sounds like a threat, and I’m not sure I like it. “Okay, good,” I say. “Then I won’t tell him you kissed me back.”

  She explodes. “I did not!”

  I smile. I know she did. That’s all I need for now.

  She relaxes a little. “You know,” she says, as if she’s suddenly remembered something, “that’s not the first time you kissed me.”

  I sit up. “No?”

  “You kissed me when we were six.”

  “See, I was a smart kid.”

  “Well, you sort of didn’t have a choice.”

  I cock my head to the side. “I’m listening . . .”

  “Jeremy Winger’s big sister tricked you and me into going inside their dog pen to feed Spotty, and then she slammed the door and locked us in there.”

  “Jeremy,” I say, thinking. “Did we call him Jermy? Like germs?”

  Cami frowns. “I don’t think so.”

  “Oh.” So much for that almost-memory. “Anyway . . .”

  “So, yeah, then she said she wouldn’t let us out unless we kissed.”

  “I like her.”

  Cami props her bare feet on the coffee table. Her toenails are painted purple. “Stop it. It was horrible. There were tons of bees in there.”

  “Was I a good kisser back then already?”

  “Shut up.”

  I stare at her toes for a minute, and then I look over at her face. “Aren’t your feet freezing?”

  She shrugs. “Sort of.”

  I get off the couch, move her legs, and slide under them so I’m sitting on the coff
ee table and her feet are in my lap. I wrap my arms around them, hold them to my chest. And then I give her my most innocent smile.

  She raises her eyebrow suspiciously but lets me stay like that, and we talk about all kinds of things. Like what happened at dinner tonight with Blake, and which Barbie doll was my favorite, and what might happen when I finally make my way home.

  One kiss was definitely not enough.

  After a while, Cami’s mom yells down the stairs. “Ethan, are you still here?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I say. Cami’s toes are toasty warm now.

  “Your mother’s on the phone wondering if you’re here, and she wants you to come home now.”

  I roll my eyes and Cami cringes in sympathy. “Thanks,” I call out. “Tell her I’ll be home in a few minutes.”

  I stand up and set Cami’s feet gently on the floor, and then I offer her a hand and pull her out of the chair. “Thanks for forgiving me,” I say.

  She gives me a hug. “How could I not forgive my long-lost BFF?”

  It’s not where I want it to be. But I’ll take it. For now.

  CHAPTER 28

  The wind has stopped and the snowplows are out, throwing the snow impossibly high along the sides of the roads. It feels like I’m in a tunnel, walking down the street. Mama said earlier that if the plow trucks make it to the neighborhoods, school will be open tomorrow. And my mind turns back to that old worry. I squinch my eyes shut. My eyeballs feel frozen.

  When I get home, I find my parents in the living room, pretending like crazy that they aren’t worried, like they have it all together, but the curtains are still open wide, even though it’s long after dark.

  Blake is nowhere to be found, and Gracie’s probably asleep in bed already. I sit down in the chair across from the couch, where Mama sits.

  “Hey,” I say. I’m so uncertain. Are they mad at me about dinner? Do they think I’m just a troublemaker, like Blake does? And are they really going to ground me for not coming home right away? I think about making a joke, but then think better of it and just keep my mouth shut.

  They’re quiet, just sitting there, looking at me, and it worries me. It does. It’s probably some parenting technique or something. Whatever it is, it’s working. I shift in my chair and clasp my hands to keep from fidgeting.

  Finally, Dad speaks. “We’re really upset with you for running off.”

  Mama says, “It’s not safe out there. You wandering around in the dark—I was very worried.”

  I close my eyes and count to five so I don’t mess this up.

  But they aren’t done.

  “And what you did to Blake is unacceptable,” Dad says. “I know you’ve had some rough times, and I know you probably learned how to fight on the street, but in this house you are with family and we don’t act that way.”

  Ugh. I can’t believe this. “Blake punched me first,” I say as quietly as I can.

  “Don’t worry about Blake. We’ve taken care of him. That’s not your job,” Mama says.

  I can feel it coming. This is such bullshit. And I know I’ve lost my chance at getting out of school. There’s no way Mama will talk Dad into anything now.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. Seething inside.

  Mama stays on point. “If it happens again, Ethan, well . . . I’m not sure what we’re going to do, but violence in our home is not acceptable, and whatever punishment we decide, it’ll be harsh. So just don’t. Clear?”

  “Yes.”

  “Now, about school tomorrow,” Dad says.

  My heart sinks.

  “You’re going.”

  Fuck. I lean forward in my chair, put my elbows on my knees. Bury my face in my hands so they don’t see my reaction. So they don’t see me shaking. So they don’t see the stupid, hot tears.

  In the morning, I get up from my makeshift bed in the basement, put on my clothes, eat breakfast, and get on the bus, ignoring the looks. And ignoring Blake. It’s easy—he ignores me, too. I sit with Cami, but for the life of me, I can’t focus on our conversation. My chest is so tight, it makes my breath raspy. I just stare at the seatback in front of me.

  Once we’re at school, I get off the bus.

  And I start walking. Away.

  I can’t do it. I can’t go in there, face all those people. Be laughed at, humiliated. Sent to all those freshman classes when I should be a junior. Look J-Dog in the eye, or see Cami with him, or get one single pity glance or one inkling of a mention of pissing my pants—I swear I’ll punch anybody who does that.

  And, I’ve been told, that is unacceptable.

  So that leaves me with no choice.

  I quit.

  CHAPTER 29

  I spend the day wandering, and by afternoon, I’m cold and starving. I stare at the mom-and-pop diner a couple of blocks from school, smelling the grease, and my mouth waters. But I don’t have any money. I walk farther and stop when I see a Burger King bag on the side of the road. It’s not moving in the breeze. I think about seeing what’s in it. I do. But I fucking can’t do that again. I turn down a residential street and keep walking. Kick the crap out of a trash can instead. The lid rolls out into the street and a car has to go around it. I walk to the end of the block, and then jog back to get it. Put it back on the can.

  Wandering around all day, I’ve got to keep moving or I freeze. I walk a bunch of miles, all in squares so I don’t get lost. Nobody notices, nobody stops me or asks what I’m doing. I’m just invisible.

  When my phone starts vibrating in my pocket, I ignore it along with the fear in my gut, and I just head back to school to catch the bus home. I don’t know what I’m going to do. I really don’t.

  I hop on the bus before the last bell rings, before everybody else boards, and sit by the window watching the floodgates open. Cami and J-Dog come walking out together, holding hands, and I want to kill him. I shrink down in my seat and pull my hat down so he doesn’t see me. Cami’s on her cell phone, distracted, and she glances up at me, squinting. Then she gives J-Dog a quick peck on the cheek and waves good-bye. He doesn’t look very satisfied with that, but he turns and walks back into the school. Basketball practice, probably.

  Cami hops up the bus steps and sees me, and then she talks on the phone a second more and hangs up. She flops in the seat and says to me, really loud, “Will you please start answering your stupid phone? Your mother called my mother and my mother called me to see if I knew where you were. Somebody marked you down as an unexcused absence from school today and the office called home to find out where you were. Your parents are freaked.”

  “Shit,” I say. They know. Of course they know. The school would call them. I should have known that. It’s been a while since I’ve had to cut school, and Ellen never really cared.

  “What?” Cami’s voice is sharp. She folds a piece of gum into her mouth and chews, hard.

  “Did you tell your mother I was on the bus?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay,” I say, thinking fast. “Yeah, that’s good.”

  “Why?”

  “I cut school,” I say. “I’m not going back. I’m quitting.”

  “Oh, great.” Cami sinks back in the seat. “Ethan, why?”

  “I’m sixteen, I can quit if I want.”

  “Are you sure about that? I bet you have to have your parents’ permission.”

  I stare at her. “How would you know?” But I’m scared she’s right.

  She just sighs and pulls out her iPod and I feel like a loser. But I’m still not going back there.

  We pick up the middle school kids and Blake has his phone out. He gives me a huge smirk when he says, “Bye, Dad,” and I know he knows I’m busted. I scrunch down in the seat and just try to breathe all the way home. Try to pretend I’m cool about all of this.

  But I am so not.

  I go inside, into the kitchen, and Gracie’s eyes are huge, like she’s trying to warn me. Blake shoves past and goes to his room. Mama comes around the corner, sees me, and stops. She looks so
disappointed.

  “Mama,” I say. “Can we please talk about this?”

  “You had me worried sick. Where were you all day?”

  “Just wandering around. I’m sorry. I couldn’t do it—”

  “Ethan, I want you to promise me you’ll go to your classes tomorrow.”

  “But I have some ideas.”

  “Like what?” She doesn’t look very open to them.

  “Like, you could homeschool me. Or maybe I could get a tutor.”

  She shakes her head and sighs. “I’m not cut out for homeschooling, and we just can’t afford a tutor right now.”

  “I could get a job. I could help pay.” I plead with my eyes.

  “No. You need to focus on studying and catching up in school. Believe me, Ethan, I’ve tried convincing your father, okay? It’s not going to happen.”

  “Then I’ll quit school.”

  “You can’t,” Mama says. “Besides, you’re smart. You’re just overreacting to one event that everyone’s forgotten about already. And you don’t even know yet if you’ll be in freshman classes. Just take a deep breath and handle it, Ethan! You know you can do it.”

  I stare at her. Not really sure what to say.

  She puts her hand on my shoulder. “Honey, sometimes you just have to suck it up, like everyone else has to.” And then she walks past me into the kitchen and starts pulling stuff out of the fridge for dinner.

  I look at Gracie and she just shrugs at me. “Suck it up,” she says.

  CHAPTER 30

  I’m hiding in the basement when Dad gets home, but he doesn’t come after me. We don’t discuss my skip day at dinner, either, and I’m thinking maybe Mama took care of things. I’m kind of thrilled about that, but it’s freaking me out a little wondering if Dad’s going to spring something on me. The yelling is really getting old, and I think I’m going to have to try to follow the rules for a while, just to keep the peace. I can’t keep disappointing Mama when she’s sticking her neck out for me. I pick out some more picture books from a box and start reading, just to get something calm going in my brain. This angsty crap is making my chest all weird and congested.