AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Yes, sir, I will,” I whispered, feeling small as hell for being called out by a janitor. I mean, seriously, this guy was two years away from going off to war when he was my age, and here I was—or had been—throwing away a chance he would have died for back in the sixties. “I promise.”
“Good. Now get your books and stop tracking up my clean hallway.” He waved me off, then entered the next room to empty trash cans and slop a mop over the dirt dozens of designer shoes tracked in on the daily.
I hurried off, head filled with thoughts that swirled around like a tornado. It was shocking and humbling to see just how many people paid attention to what choices you made in life. I hoped the decisions I was making now would be the proper ones to make Desmond proud.
ChapterTen
Tyler
Jonah:Fam after eating bodyweight in turkey and pie #ThanksgivingVibes #fat #sleepy #football
I opened the photo to see Jonah laid out on the sofa, all three of his sisters in on the selfie, his mom grinning, and his dad pretend-pouting. It was the perfect snapshot of an awesome family, and one I’d gotten to know a little over the past couple of weeks.
Tyler:Say hi to everyone
When Jonah had come back to school, it was awkward between us at first—a lot of gossipy kids and pointing fingers. He’d been uncomfortable with the attention and the weight of all the questions and seemed to avoid me. I’d like to say that we’d connected after the punch, but we didn’t immediately gravitate together, at first, we were on opposite ends of the hockey table in the cafeteria, but subtly, day by day, we moved nearer, and by the end of the first week, we were on the end, opposite each other, and then there was even more awkward.
Visiting him at home had been easy, but here in school, there was thisthinggrowing between us that was under so much scrutiny it was impossible to talk about anything that wasn’t hockey or school.
That had been when the messaging started, when we realized it was easier to message each other instead of learning about who we were face-to-face. We were friends, and I could ask him anything I wanted when he wasn’t right there in front of me.
Maybe it was because I didn’t want him to see that I went hot whenever he talked to me, or that my belly was full of butterflies every moment I thought about him.
But I didn’t have a happy Thanksgiving selfie to send back to him because my Thanksgiving dinner was a strained, awkward, miserable, mess, and I was thinking it was all my fault. Mom had been so excited when Jim had invited us over to his and Felix’s new place for Thanksgiving, but it had all gone wrong from the moment the door opened. The naive part of me had hoped this could have been the first family Thanksgiving I’d ever enjoyed.
Of course, we had the day when Dad was around, but it was never any kind of family thing, more an excuse for my dad to drink and end up hitting my mom and…
I can’t go there.
I’d arrived at the house, hefting two pies my mom had been up early to make. My eyeliner was on point, lips glossy, hair styled, and I was wearing my favorite shirt, tie-dyed in all colors of the rainbow. I felt pretty and confident and I was sure that this was going to be the best day—the day that me, Mom, Jim, and Felix had fun.
That fizzing feeling of hope was vanquished as soon as Felix opened the door and wouldn’t look at me. His restrained hello to Mom was about the worst kind of start, and it had gone downhill from there.
“Missing Soren?” I teased him—anything to get a smile—but he frowned.
“We’re not joined at the hip,” he muttered, then slunk away through a door I supposed must lead to a kitchen. I hadn’t visited this new house of theirs before. It wasn’t far from their old place, but about a fifth of the size, but when the door opened the scent of turkey hit me, so yeah, Felix had gone to hide in the kitchen. The aroma of roasted turkey was glorious, but the taste of Felix’s running away was bitter.
Jim came out through the same door, wearing an apron with the James Bond gunshot logo and the wordsLicense to Grill. It was such a dad apron that it made me smile.
It was so normal.Maybe this will be okay.
“Guys! You made it!”
Next to me, Mom was a mess of smiles, and her expression was incandescent with happy when Jim pulled her into a hug. He didn’t quite know what to do with me, but it was okay—I had pie in my hands, which made things less awkward because it made hugging or shaking hands impossible. He pressed a hand to my shoulder instead and squeezed briefly.
I was cool with that.
“Come through, this is the dining room, and through there is the kitchen. Can I get you a drink? Do you want me to take the pies?”
“I can carry them through,” I said.
He nodded, slipping his arm over my mom’s shoulder, and giving her another hug, this time, a cute kissy kind of hug. I loved him for how he made my mom laugh, and how she gave a genuine smile whenever they were together.
That was the high point. The only good bit really.
Because once we were at the table, me kitty-corner to Felix, it was shit, even when Jim tried to get us to relax.
Hell, he was trying so hard.
