I sigh heavily when I’m no closer to a conclusion than I was at the start of my shower.
Grandma Julia is waiting for me by the time I’m dried and dressed. She places a bowl of soup with bow tie pasta floatingaround and a plate with mozzarella sticks on the dining room table, gesturing to the chair in front of it.
“Did the shower help you feel better?” she asks once I’m settled in and reaching for one of the cheese sticks.
I nod around the large bite of ooey gooey cheesy yumminess I dipped into the tomato soup. ‘Cause can you actually eat tomato soup without some sort of cheesy dip?
The hair on the back of my neck stands up straight when her head tilts slightly to the right, reminding me of the gesture Abraham frequently does. It always looked a bit like he was listening to something, but no matter how hard I strain there’s nothing there. With each passing second, the tension in the room increases until the hair on my arms is standing up as well.
Something isn’t right. I’m half tempted to ask her what’s going on when she speaks up first.
“That’s good. I read somewhere that a shower is helpful during the detox process.”
Wait, what? Whatever ounce of kindness was there earlier, is completely zapped from me. It was all an act. I should have known. “I’m not—”
“No more lies, Rami.” Grandma Julia interrupts and sits in the chair next to me. Her tone is sharp but her face remains neutral. “What are you taking?”
I drop the cheese stick on the plate, my appetite suddenly gone. Movement out of the corner of my eye draws my attention briefly to a shadowy corner of the room. But when I try to focus on it, there’s nothing there. Shaking my head, I meet her gaze again. My nostrils flare at the constant judgement. Frankly, I’m fed up with it.
Slamming my hand down, I stand up in such a rush the chair falls to the floor behind me with a loudcrash. “Goddammit, Grandma! I’m not a drug addict. I’ve neverbeena drug addict.”
“Young man,” my grandmother says coolly. “Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain.” Her words are clipped and her tone even. “There’s no other explanation to the clumsiness, awkward muscle spasms, sleepless nights, or the other oddities. Everything I’ve read says these are normal with long-term drug use.”
My mouth drops open, staring at her relaxed features. The only giveaway that she’s upset by my outburst is the thin press to her lips. “If you even took a minute to actually get to know me instead of judging me, you’d know that I’m just clumsy and awkward. It hasnothingto do with drugs, which I don’t use.” Okay, not entirely true about the clumsiness. I’m only this way when I’m nervous, which she and this town make me regularly.
“It’s not my place to judge, but it is my place to keep you safe. Even from yourself, if I must. And you can’t deny your drug use when you carry the reminder so openly.” She grips my wrist with more strength than I expect, her thumb brushing against the scar there. “The courts agreed with my petition to claim you as a ward because they knew I could help you. But I will not tolerate you lying.”
“Fuck!” I rip my arm from her grip, fury burning through my veins. It’s been two years and she’s still using that against me. Not sure why I’m surprised. The courts and shrink found it enough to claim my inability to care for myself. “That was once.Once! Tack on the failures of my mother, and you think I’m the same. I’mnotmy mother, and I willneverbe what you want.” By the end, I’m practically growling in frustration.
But Grandma Julia’s face remains impassive through my tirade. “I failed your mother. I won’t fail you.”
Oh, hello brain.She doesn’t even address the whole point of this argument. She deserves the humongous eye roll. Shaking my head and scowling at the woman who has ruined my life, I turn on my heels, and storm through the house.
“You willnotleave this house until I say so,” she snaps. The first glimpse of any real emotion from her.
“We’ll see about that,” I mumble quietly enough that she can’t hear me.
I slam the door to my room and pace back and forth at the foot of my bed. A plan slowly formulates in my mind, stitching together until it becomes an obsession. Grabbing my bookbag, I throw my computer and charger in along with all of my savings and several changes of clothes. A quick glance around my room solidifies my plans as I realize that none of it is mine. It’s just basic ass furniture, a poster with a Bible verse on it, and a crucifix on the dresser. Clearly, none of it is mine.
The glint of the artificial light on the blood-red stone draws my gaze. Sawyer’s ring resting in a small glass dish on my shelf. Lifting it to my eyes, I sigh heavily and tears spring to my eyes as I read the inscription on the inside again.
Stay true to you.
Tears spring in my eyes and I slip the precious possession over my right middle finger. His strength empowers me, as if the ring is a talisman allowing me to channel him. My hand twitches to pull out my phone from my pocket and contact him, but once again, I can’t do it.
He’d be disappointed in me for sure.
Tossing a phone charger, a warm blanket, and my collection of snacks into my messenger bag, I slip it over my shoulder and stare at the notebook and pencil on my desk. Part of me wants to write a note to explain everything, but I don’t. There’s nothing to explain, and it’s not like it’ll do any good. I remove the screen from my window again, hide it under my bed, and jump to my freedom.
This late afternoon air feels cleaner. Lighter.
I hesitate for only a second, not to stay but deciding where to go. Once my legs begin to move in the direction of Adriel’s home,I don’t second-guess myself. It’s not like I have enough money to really get anywhere. Enough for a bus ticket and some food, but not enough to stay anywhere for any length of time. I suppose I can always find work to earn my keep as I move around. A life filled with adventure. With no one else’s expectations but my own.
My thumb rubs against the ring, and I wonder if Sawyer would take me in. A runaway ward-slash-man-child. Could I put that responsibility and problem on him?
But the idea of leaving Adriel behind causes a knot to form in my chest, stealing my breath. I can’t abandon him knowing he’s cursed. Who knows how long he’s been trapped there.
Determined to dosomethingworthwhile in my life, I trudge through the woods toward Adriel. Perhaps with this renewed determination, we can find the strength together to earn both our freedoms.
