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He half laughs. “You’re right. I could’ve, but I wanted to hear your voice.”
I furrow my eyebrows. Did he take my text the wrong way?
“And you wanted to do that because?” I ask.
He pauses before responding. “I wanted to make sure you were okay too.”
I sink into my bed, resting my back on the pillows. “Again, you could’ve texted.”
“Mmm, no. You’re the type that would lie over text.”
My jaw drops. “What? I wouldn’t lie.”
“Oh really? So, what would you have said if I asked you if you were okay?”
“I would’ve said I was.”
He clicks his tongue. “Liar.”
I gasp. “What? No. I didn’t. I mean, I didn’t expect to see Jordy upset like that, but I was fine. And then . . .”
A door slams downstairs, shaking one of the pictures on my wall. I stare at my door for a long moment, tears burning my eyes.
“And then what?” Caleb asks.
“It’s nothing.”
“Tell me.”
“My parents are fighting again,” I whisper, in slight disbelief that I’m telling him about it.
“Does that happen a lot?”
My vision becomes blurred by tears. I wipe them away with the sleeve of my shirt. “Yeah. It does.”
“I’m sorry.”
I focus on the movie posters across the room, but it tugs at my heart even more. I don’t just want them to stop fighting. I want Dad to notice me again. “I wish my mom could understand that we’re not like her. We can’t go back to normal the way she did.”
He’s quiet for a moment. “We all deal with loss differently. I bet she isn’t doing as well as she seems.”
I roll my eyes. “Well, she has me fooled.”
Mom went back to work the week after the accident. She dove back into her social life and chores without missing a step. As far as I’m concerned, she’s too happy. Too normal.
“Jordy is kind of like her.”
“What do you mean?”
“His anxiety attacks started after we lost our dad. He became hyper focused on making sure everything was perfect so nothing would ever go wrong again. He’s fine most days, but every once in a while, the smallest thing can send him spiraling.”
I’d always thought Jordy was quirky—and maybe a little rude, if I’m being honest—but I never realized he had anxiety. My heart hurts as I think of his small body on the floor, hyperventilating and sobbing.
“What happened this time?”
“He got a C on a math assignment,” Caleb says.
“Will he be okay?”
