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“Where’d he go?”
“Not sure. Mom doesn’t really give me details on that, either. I just know he left when I was five. Mom says he’s looking for us, but that it’s really important he doesn’t ever find us.”
“Sounds like she keeps a lot from you.”
Kennedy nodded. “She’s just trying to protect me.”
“Yeah, well, hold on to something too tight and you’ll end up suffocating it.”
“Ironic, coming from you,” she said.
I chuckled. “Last time I checked; I’ve given you two outs. Once in my car. Once on the bed.” I lowered my voice. “But you and I both know you don’t want to be let go.”
She made a sound between a cough and a choke, shifting uncomfortably on the bed.
“I started telling people at school you’re my girlfriend, by the way.”
Kennedy’s eyes bulged. “Isn’t that kind of thing supposed to be a two-way agreement?”
“I mean, we made out on my bed and you came. If you weren’t my girlfriend, that would be a scandal, wouldn’t it?”
She flopped back on the bed, staring upwards. “What if people think you’re just dating me out of sympathy? Doing something nice for the girl in the wheelchair, or whatever?”
“As of today, you don’t look like much of a girl in a wheelchair to me. Besides, fuck what they think. And if anyone thinks I’m doing anything to be nice, they obviously don’t know me.”
She sat back up, giving me a wry look. “You can be nice. What do you call the takeout delivery service you’ve been running the past few days? Or the cold rag to my forehead—yes, I was halfway out of it but not so out of it that I didn’t catch that one.”
“It’s like I said. I go after what I want. I do the things I want to do, not because they’re nice or the right thing or the wrong thing. And for now, I want you.”
“For now…” she said, her words trailing off.
“Everything starts with for now. Good stuff graduates into for later. And the best stuff turns into forever.”
She rolled her eyes. “Did you read that on a fortune cookie?”
I grinned. “No. I thought if I got poetic, you might show me those panties again.”
Kennedy launched a pillow at me.25KennedyI had hardly seen my mom since the night she showed up at Tristan’s house with my wheelchair and forced me to come home. She barely talked the whole way back. When we got home, she’d had new pills waiting for me, too.
I sat across from her at breakfast, still using my chair even though I wasn’t taking the pills that made me feel so dizzy anymore. That conversation was a bridge I absolutely did not want to cross right now.
“Happy birthday,” my mom said.
I smiled. “Thanks.” I knew it was normal for kids to get presents on their birthdays, but my mom had never believed in any of that, even if today felt like a particularly special one since I was turning eighteen.
“Those things you were watering out back were weeds,” my mom said. “I sprayed weed killer on them this morning so you can plant some proper flowers back there later.”
It felt like she’d punched me in the chest. So much for that happy birthday she just wished me. “You what?”
She set her knife and fork down. “I will not have you wasting your time watering and taking care of weeds. It’s embarrassing.”
“For who? The zero-point one people who ever come to our house? You haven’t had a friend over in… I don’t even know how long.” My throat felt tight and hot and I couldn’t stop the emotion from welling up, making my eyes sting with tears. “You were just pissed at me and wanted to punish me. At least tell the truth.”
“I don’t know what’s gotten into you. Maybe this whole school thing really was a bad idea. Those teachers are putting evil ideas in your head and turning my sweet girl into a harlot.”
I took a measured breath. “I need to go or I’m going to miss the bus.”
My mom didn’t say anything.
I went out back and tried to splash the plants with water, hoping maybe it could dilute the weed killer my mom had sprayed. But I could already see they looked less lively than they had yesterday.
“I’m sorry, guys,” I said, drizzling some more water on the plants. “Fight through this one and I’ll make sure she never does it again. I’ll fill the weed killer bottle with water tonight. Okay?”
I hurried to the bus stop, pushing my chair as fast as I could. I’d only walked without dizziness in my room so far, but part of me was dying to get out of my chair and run freely—to strip off my shoes and just go as fast as I could and feel the rush of freedom. But for now, I stayed in the chair.
