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"I thought I was always weird."
"Well, yeah. Extra weird." She studies me. "You and Kay have been hanging out a lot."
"And?"
"It's just weird, don't you think?"
"Why?"
"You're kinda old."
"Wise."
"Eh."
I chuckle as I flip her off.
She laughs as she returns the gesture. "It's been making me think about Mom and Dad, what's happening to Kay's grandmother."
"Me too."
"I miss them. I know they were assholes to you, but—"
"They're still your parents." Only I don't miss them. Not exactly. I never let my head go to that place.
They're gone.
Our chance to reconcile is gone.
But was there ever a fucking chance?
Nothing would have convinced me to be the clean cut, high achieving son they wanted.
They had points. I skipped too much school, hung out with too many burn outs and druggies, gave too much lip.
But there was a fucking ocean between who I was and who they wanted me to be.
And I was never going to cross that.
It's easier to push everything aside.
They're gone. I don't dwell on that. I've never had the mental space. Not really. I had no fucking idea how to take care of someone when I was appointed Emma's legal guardian. And taking care of a teenage girl who'd just lost her parents—that wasn't easy.
It filled that space. Kept me from thinking about what it meant, Mom and Dad no longer existing.
I still don't let my head go to that place.
And I don't want to.
"I hated them too," Emma says. "For a long time. It was their fault. I always knew it was their decisions to lock you out."
"It was both of us." I don't want Emma picking up my baggage. Things were still good with her and our parents. That should be her lasting memory.
"But you showed whenever they didn't. You wouldn't have done that if you didn't want to be around."
It's true. I always want to support Emma. Even when she pisses me off. "It was complicated." But it wasn't, not really. Mom didn't want me around my young, impressionable sister.
"Was it? Why'd they have to draw that line."
