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“Silt. ”
“You’re from a place called Silt?”
“Yes. ”
“What’s it like there?”
“It’s close to Coos Bay, which is on the ocean. Coos is pretty—they get tourists. Silt is farther inland. It’s kind of …” A shithole. “There’s not much to it. ”
“So do you have parents, or are you, like, the product of spontaneous generation?”
She’s teasing, but not really. My family’s a sore spot between us, and she’s pushing right into it. “Everyone has parents, Caro. ”
Bridget says from somewhere in the darkness, “Don’t forget, you can slam the door on his foot. ”
Author: Robin York
I think about pulling my foot back, but I’ll risk it. “I’ve got a mom. My dad’s … not around. Most of the time. Which is much better for everybody involved. He’s … bad news. ”
She meets my eyes, a slight pucker between her eyebrows. Fully awake now—this is how she looks in class. Listening hard enough to hear everything I’m not saying in between the things I am. “What’s her name?”
“My mom? Michelle. ”
“Is she married to your dad?”
“No. ”
“So is she the Leavitt, or … ?”
“It’s my dad’s name. ”
“Any more brothers and sisters?”
“Just Frankie. I told you about her. ”
“No, you didn’t. ”
Fair enough. “I will. ”
She tilts her head, thinking. “What’s your favorite color?”
“Green. ”
“Best place you’ve ever been on vacation. ”
“We never went anywhere. California, I guess. ”
“Best present you ever got. ”
“That book you gave me. ”
Her eyes widen a fraction. “It’s just a book. About bread. ”
“I liked it. ”
“What kind of presents do you usually get?”
“Clothes. Stuff I need. Shit my mom thought was funny but isn’t particularly. Bo gave me a fifth of whiskey at Christmas. ”
