AllFreeNovel
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He’s decided I’m not enough, either.
And I shouldn’t be. He’s been single for close to two decades—because of me. I know that he’s made his fair share of sacrifices, and now that I’m an adult, he deserves to find someone to keep him company in this empty house.
I know all that, but it still hurts.
Determined to put on a brave face, I shake my head. “Of course it is. I know that. I was just really surprised. What’s her name?”
Dad searches my expression for a long moment, then squeezes my arm and lets me go. We pick up where we left off on thetamales. “Jessica.” Maybe I’m imagining it, but I think I see the corners of his mouth twitch upward when he says her name. I’m not sure how I feel about that. “She’s a single parent, too. Her son is in middle school. We have a lot in common.”
I slap another dollop ofmasaonto a husk. “I bet you do.”
Afterdinner,DadandI clean up the kitchen and settle on the couch to watch TV. It’s a little past nine and I’m scrolling on my phone, thinking about heading up to bed, when a text comes through from Maverick.
I’m outside your house. Can you come out?
Confused, I reply right away.I thought we were going back in the morning.
Not to go back to school. Just to hang out.
I swing my legs to the floor and walk to the front door, opening it a crack to peer out toward the street. Sure enough, there’s Maverick at the end of the driveway, his shoulders hunched against the cold night air. He waves at me, and I wave back.
“What are you doing?” Dad calls.
I slip my feet into my sneakers and grab my coat off the hook. “I’m gonna go out and talk to Maverick.”
“Didn’t you see him a few hours ago?”
“Whenever he dropped me off, yeah.” I peer into the living room. Dad is still on the couch, looking at me skeptically. “I’ll be back in soon.”
“Don’t walk anywhere alone. It’s dark.”
“I won’t.”
I pull my coat on and step outside. Maverick has made his way up to the porch and is sitting on our wooden bench, elbows on his knees, head hung. The light is dim, but when he lifts his head, I can see that his eyes are red.
Panic rises in my throat. “What happened?”
He tugs me forward to stand between his legs and wraps his arms tightly around my waist. His head falls against my chest, and the placement might have been awkward, except he’s clearly not in a frame of mind to notice.
I’m desperate for information, but I don’t push. I hold him for as long as he holds me, and when I feel his grip loosen a bit, I pull away so I can look down into his face. “Is it your mom? Is she okay?”
“She’s alive and at home, if that’s what you’re asking.” His hands still rest on my hips, and he stares at a point past my ear. I don’t think he knows what he’s doing; his eyes are far away. “I was here five, six weeks ago. I don’t know what happened. I came home this afternoon and—” He lets go of me and slumps back on the bench, running his hands down his face. “She looks so sick, Azalea. I’ve never seen her so skinny. You can see her bones. She got tired so easily tonight. And then my dad told me she has a premonition or some shit that she’s going to die soon.”
My heart sinks down to my toes. I squeeze in beside him on the small bench, reaching for his freezing hand as I absorb what he’s said.
“She’s going to die.” Maverick stares straight ahead. “She’s going to die, isn’t she?”
“Maybe.” My voice is quiet, almost lost in the wind.
He sandwiches my hand between both of his and bows his head against them as if in prayer. A moment later, his shoulders begin to shake with quiet sobs. I’ve never seen Maverick like this: fragile, on the verge of coming undone. It’s unnerving and confirms that yes, something is deeply, deeply wrong. A lump rises in my throat, but I tamp it down, knowing that I have to be the strong one here.
I press as close to him as I can, resting my chin on his shoulder and using my free hand to rub his back. When Maverick raises his head from the cocoon of our joined hands, he turns toward me. His nose accidentally brushes mine, and I shift back a little as my stomach swoops. “Tell me how to live without a mom,” he says hoarsely.
I desperately want to tell him something that will help, but I don’t know what it would be. “It’s not the same, Mav. I didn’t know her.”
He watches me, waiting, and I realize what he needs. He needs to know that there’s hope. That his life won’t end if his mom’s does.
“Some days will be hard,” I say after a few moments, picking out my words carefully. “There will be times when you desperately want to talk to her about something, and it’s almost…unbearablethat you can’t. For me, that was puberty and boys. I don’t know what it will—would—be for you. Whatever you guys usually talk about now, I guess.”
