THIRTEEN
LEO
The little crow’sbeen sheltering on my porch since the rain started. I went outside earlier to shoo it away and realized it only had one leg. And then guilt took over.
I have no cat food, but it seemed to enjoy the peanuts I put out, and the blueberries that were just on the verge of turning. It picked at the small pile, then settled in the corner of the porch under the awning, where it’s now staring at me through the window.
“I can’t let you in,” I murmur. I have no idea how well crows can hear. I could ask North, but I think I’d die from embarrassment after admitting I cared about one of the devil birds.
Besides, I don’t ever want to see North again. Not after the way he left me. The humiliation of watching him walk away is too much, so I pull out my phone, scroll to Easton’s name, and hit the call button.
It rings for so long, I think maybe he’s not going to pick up, but then he does, and I hear laughter in the background, which means he’s at the station.
“Hey, Leo. You okay?” He always answers every one of my calls that way.
“I’m fine. If you get a chance, can you swing by and pick a few things up from me?”
“For you or from you?” he clarifies.
I grimace. It’s a fair question, thanks to my aphasia. “From me. I have a few more food containers that are taking up too much space. Also, I need you to stop bringing me food, okay? Especially if it’s North’s.”
“What? Why? He doesn’t care. He actually said?—”
“I don’t care what he said. I don’t want it anymore. I’m…” My brow furrows as I search for some kind of lie that’ll get Easton off my back. “I’m taking a cooking class.”
He goes dead silent for a moment, then coughs. “You’retaking a cooking class?”
“Yes. And thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“I’m not…” He groans. “It’s just, you were never into cooking even before theIncident.”
“Yes, well, I need to learn to take care of myself, and it means you won’t need to steal food from the station anymore.”
“It’s not stealing,” he says tiredly. “It’sforyou.”
“Whatever. My point stands. I don’t want you to bring me his food anymore.”
He sighs, sounding irritated. “Fine. Whatever you want.”
“Thank you. I hope you have a good shift.”
“Sure. And hey, Leo?—”
I hang up before he can go on. I don’t have it in me to hear that he’s proud of me or some other platitude that would be kind if I weren’t a grown man who really should be capable of feeding himself.
With a sigh, I gather the bags of empty food containers and walk them to the front door just as the room lights up withlightning so bright it burns my eyes. And before I can suck in a breath, thunder hits…
And then the room goes black.
It takes me a second to realize I can still see with how bright the night clouds are shining through the front window. I have a little box of emergency candles, and I grab a few, setting them out on the coffee table, and I get them all lit with a single match. The glow seems to match my mood: melancholy and a little lost.
I feel pathetic. Iampathetic. And not in a self-deprecating way. I let myself get comfortable in a solitude I never actually wanted.
But I don’t want to confront the idea that I might not be interesting or unique enough to be loved again. And even back then, I wasn’t quite enough. I could tell Liam had lived with one foot out the door for a long time.
“Why didn’t you just leave?” I whisper to the ghost that isn’t here.
Even if I did believe in afterlife spirits, I know Liam wouldn’t be here. Small towns scared the shit out of him. Commitment scared the shit out of him.
