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“Anytime, Scar.”
He kisses me on the cheek, then I leave his car. He waits for me to walk through the door to start his pickup again.
“Honey? What are you doing here?”
My mother comes into the driveway with a frown. She looksbehind me at the taillights of the car turning at the end of the street.
“Who brought you here?” she asks, ushering me inside the house.
“Leo.”
I drop my backpack at the bottom of the stairs, my chest tightens, and I feel the tears welling up.
“What’s wrong?” asks my father when he arrives. “What is this bag?”
“I left the apartment,” I say hoarsely.
“Does Edgar know? Why didn’t you call us?”
I sigh, swallowing back my sob with difficulty. “I had a fight with Ed. I… I didn’t want to stay there.”
Unable to hold back any longer, I burst into tears. My mother rushes over to hug me.
“What happened, honey? Can you tell me?”
I mumble into her neck, ruining the beautiful cashmere sweater she’s wearing, soaking it with my tears.
“I’m going to call your brother,” my father says, concern lacing his tone. “Why did he let you leave in this state?”
“Don’t do that,” I manage to say. “Don’t call him! I left with Leo. I was not alone.”
“That’s crazy! First, he insists that you move in with him and then he kicks you out. I swear he’s going to have a hard time if he doesn’t have a good reason!”
I sniff in sorrow and look down at the ground.
“I’m the one who left,” I admit in a gloomy voice. “I didn’t want to stay there anymore after our fight, and I didn’t know where to go.”
“It will pass,” my mother whispers softly. “Your fights never last long. It will be fine. Go to bed, honey, tomorrow will be better. Do you want me to make you a hot chocolate?”
I shake my head from side to side and grab my bag from thefloor, internally thanking her for not asking any more questions. I don’t think I would have been able to deny more. I leave my parents standing in the hallway. As I climb the stairs I hear my father sigh, exchange a few words with my mother, then nothing.
Everything is over.
36
Nolan
I drink my beer, staring dully at the assignment I’ve been struggling with for over an hour. I sigh, pull a handful of hair, and take another sip from my bottle. The liquid stings my nose and I clear my throat to get rid of the unpleasant sensation.
“Still don’t want to talk about it?”
I look up at Milo. Arms crossed against his chest, he glances at me sideways, glancing at my leg which I’ve been jiggling frantically. I stop dead.
“I don’t think there’s much to say.”
He chuckles.
“No, you just look like a guy who doesn’t know what he wants,” Milo says.
