Page 58 of The Way We Swing Back

I picked a rock up off the ground, threw it at the back of the car, and watched it tumble lazily along the road. Why couldn’t the dipshit just give me a ride back?

When I got to the house, Mr. and Mrs. Quinn were in the living room, both up past their bedtime.

“Where were you?” Mr. Quinn said before I had a second to apologize.

The outburst would come any minute, so I shot my words out quickly. “I went for a walk. I told Gavin, but I didn’t realize I had been gone for so long. I was thinking about some stuff.”

“Curfew is at ten on a school night, Easton,” Mrs. Quinn said. “We discussed this when you moved in.”

Had they already packed my suitcase for me? “I’m sorry. I forgot my phone and lost track of time. It won’t happen again.”

The parents looked at each other, Mr. Quinn nodding at the silent words spoken between them. I hovered in the doorway, one foot in the house, one out.

“One week without those silly game consoles. It happens again, and you’re grounded for a month. Got it?”

I waited for the rest of the sentence, but it never came. “So, you aren’t kicking me out?”

“Jesus, Easton,” Mr. Quinn said quickly, dropping back into his chair, his hands making a steeple in front of his face.

Mrs. Quinn put her hand up to him. “Easton. Listen to what I’m saying now. There is nothing you can do that will prevent you from having a home here. Missing curfew is a big issue, but you will always have a bed. Okay?”

“You sure?”

“Yes, Easton, we’re sure,” Mr. Quinn said. “Try to never let anything that awful cross your mind again, okay?”

“Thanks,” I said, wanting to believe them more than I did. “I really am sorry.”

“It happens, Easton. Now go upstairs.”

I followed their instructions, knowing I still had someone else to talk to. My body temperature spiked when I reached the second floor, my heart trying to break out of my chest. I didn’t bother to knock on Zach’s door when I made it to his room.

He lay on his bed, his phone in his hand above his head, possibly video chatting with someone.

“Really, dude?” I said before he could realize it was me. “You drove away instead of letting me get in?”

He put his phone on his chest, not bothering to lift up his head. “You almost made Mom cry.”

“So what?” I said, noting in my head that I needed to apologize even more to Mrs. Quinn. “All I did was miss curfew.”

“And nobody could get ahold of you.”

“Why’s that your problem?”

“Holy shit, dude, why don’t you care about anything? About anybody?”

I wanted to explain how wrong he was. Instead, the wrong words came out before I could find the right ones. “It was a fucking accident, Zach. I’m sorry.”

“About time you apologized for something.” He still hadn’t looked at me, barely fazed by this conversation, his voice as normal as if he were asking me to pass him the cereal box.

I balled my hands into fists, ready to keep the argument going. Gavin saved me when he came barging into the room behind me. “Keep your voices down, or Mom and Dad are going to hear,” he said.

“Tell your fucking brother,” I said.

“It’s your voice that carried.”

“So?” I said, turning my back to Zach and watching Gavin.

“So, come with me, and you two can finish this once you’ve cooled off.”