Page 102 of The Corruption of Hollis Brown

“You can stay for dinner, sleep over, it’s whatever. But I mean, what are you going to do about Rose Town?”

Walt put the violin back in its case.

“We haven’t decided.”

The Stars

Mr. Watanabe said they could take the violin home. It wasn’t an expensive one, and he was pleased someone was taking interest. He’d hoped Annie would pick it up, but she never did.

Annie’s father would never pressure her into doing anything she didn’t want to do. And Hollis was as close to a son as he was going to get.

Mrs. Watanabe made cast-iron pizza for dinner, excited to have Hollis over. They didn’t spend much time at Annie’s because Yulia’s house was so nice, while Hollis’s house was shabbier and easier to relax in.

When her parents went up to bed, Annie pulled some blankets out of the hall closet and made a camp for them on the living room floor in front of the TV.

Walt watched warily as Annie flopped down next to them and turned on The Matrix.

She’s so comfortable. I don’t understand.

She’s not comfortable; she’s adaptable. Annie was my best friend for nine years before you got here. This isn’t her worst nightmare. Me leaving or hating her probably was.

And now everything is okay because she knows me? And you’re doing okay with it?

Yeah. Yulia was always going to be the hard sell. She hates stuff like this. She’s never stepped a foot into Rose Town, and she was better prepared than Annie ever was to handle you.

“Do it out loud,” Annie demanded, annoyed.

“We’re talking about Yulia,” Hollis said immediately. “Walt is confused about why you’re here. But she’s still mad at us, so I’m telling him.”

Annie gazed up at them from her spot on the floor. Then she bit her lip, hesitant.

“You know. There were a lot of small changes to you at first, not ones to really worry about. But the first made me happy.”

“What was it?” Walt asked.

“You stopped going to see the train,” Annie said, plain.

Hollis froze. He had just . . . forgotten. Hadn’t needed to. Hadn’t had that buzz at the back of his brain, the craving.

What does she mean, Hollis?

“Your clothes stopped reeking of oil and steel and you came out in the morning smelling like laundry detergent and flowery shampoo every day,” Annie said, drumming her fingers against her knee. “And I just thought. Well. Something is different, but at least it’s a good different. At least he’s happy now.”

“I . . . I didn’t . . . notice,” Hollis said.

Tell me, now.

“I never. Walt doesn’t know about that, give us a second,” Hollis whispered, and turned away from Annie.

In the mornings, I would go to the train tracks and watch a train go by and then walk to school with Annie. She doesn’t like it.

As a hobby? What did she mean by you’re “happy now”?

Hollis shrugged.

You were planning on train hopping before I arrived? That’s not safe. I knew three men who died doing that.

I know. I know it’s not safe. That was the point. To stand there and know I could do it and not do it. It made me feel . . . calm.