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Jordy pries one eye open. “Blue,” he mumbles in between sobs.
“What’s in your hand?”
“Ice.”
Caleb nods. “What do you hear?”
Jordy swallows his tears, taking in a deep breath. “The dishwasher.”
“Good. Keep taking slow breaths.”
Jordy’s shaking slows. He brings his knees to his chest, resting his head on them while Caleb rubs his back.
I take a step backward, trying to slip away without being seen, but Mrs. Park’s eyes meet mine.
“Becca?” she asks.
“Sorry, I’m just—I’m going.”
“Wait,” Caleb says. “Your headphones are on the counter over here.”
“Right,” I say as I stumble forward. I wrestle with my shoes to get them off, knowing I’m not supposed to wear them inside.
I pass Mrs. Park as her shoulders sag, and she rubs her forehead. As soon as I grasp my headphones, I spin around and hurry back toward the open door. “Sorry, again.”
I close the door, but before I’m out of earshot, I hear Mrs. Park say, “What was Becca doing here? I thought I told you she was a bad influence.”
Her words wack me in the chest like a pile of bricks. I stagger away, not wanting to hear anything else.
I know I’m not the most responsible person on the planet, but it's a bit of a stretch to say I’m a bad influence. I don’t drink or do drugs. I definitely don’t go to any of the parties that kids throw when their parents are gone. I’m an angel compared to some of the kids I go to school with. Sure, I have a bit of an attitude, but so does half the population. At least I’m not high at the same time.
Who is she to say I can’t spend time with Caleb?
I stomp the rest of the way back to my house, but I pause at the door.
My parent’s voices are passing through our poorly insulated walls clear as day.
“Don’t pour it down the drain!” Dad yells.
“I’m done!” Mom yells back.
I put on my headphones to muffle their voices and book it through the door. I jog straight upstairs to avoid being seen. As soon as I step into my room, I close my door, locking it behind me.
Tears prick at my eyes, and my stomach turns.
My parents never used to argue. Well, they did, but it was about silly things like Dad misplacing the car key or Mom leaving dishes in the living room.
Now, the only time they communicate is when they’re screaming at each other.
I tug at my sleeves and sit on my bed, falling into my pillows. I pull one against my chest, hugging it as if it’s the only thing keeping me together. My heart is pounding, and I take a slow breath to try and calm my nerves.
Only a few more months of this, and then I’m done. Once I’m on the other side of the country, I won’t have to think about my parent’s crumbling marriage or be reminded of Ethan. I’ll be free.
I blink away my tears as my attention is pulled to the window when Caleb’s bedroom light turns on. Is he okay after what happened with Jordy? He seemed relaxed on the outside, but there’s no way that’s how he really felt.
I fish my phone out of my pocket and set it in front of me. Would it be weird to text him? Isn’t that what a normal person would do after something like that? Aniceperson?
I chew at my lip, peering at the window again.
