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“You gotta get a job. And you’ll be paying me rent. Five hundred a month.”
That’s a lot, but if I’m not going to school, I can work enough hours to make that and more. My dad didn’t even ask about school. He doesn’t care if I drop out. He did, and so did my mom. I’m just continuing the family tradition.
“Where do you live?” I ask. “Is it far from here?”
He kneels down and yanks more money from the bed. “I’m just outside Chicago. Takes a little over an hour to get there, longer with traffic. You got a car, right?”
“I have Ted’s.”
“That old piece of shit? I’m surprised it still runs. You gotta pay for parking at my place. It’s a hundred a month.”
“That’s fine. Anything else?”
He looks over at me. “Two months and you’re out. You ain’t staying a day longer. And you do as I say. No talking back. No arguing with me.”
I nod. “Got it.”
“I think that’s all of it,” he says, tossing a handful of bills on the bed. “I’m gonna see if he’s got anything else that’s worth anything and then I’m heading out.”
“I’ll go pack my bag.”
“You’re going there now?” he asks, sounding annoyed.
“Yeah. Why?”
He shakes his head and mutters, “How the fuck did this happen?”
I walk up to him, holding my phone. “Give me your address.”
He rattles it off and I put in my phone. I race to my room and pack as quickly as possible. I could wait until morning to leave, but by then he might change his mind. I need to get there tonight.
Part of me doesn’t want to go, but I need to. I can’t stay. I have no place to live and I’m not risking going back into foster care. And leaving means not running into Easton. Maybe being in a new town will make me finally forget him, or at least start to.
“Ted buy you that?” my dad asks as he comes in my room, walking over to the TV.
“No. A friend did.”
He looks at me. “What kind of friends you got that have money for a new TV?”
“He’s not anymore. We’re not friends.”
“It’s mine now.” My dad yanks the cord from the wall and hauls the TV out of the room.
When I hear him leave the apartment, I race into Ted’s room and take some of the cash, stuffing it in my bra. My dad didn’t count the money. He doesn’t know how much is there.
My dad returns and goes straight to Ted’s room to get the money.
“I’m heading out!” he yells as he leaves.
“Okay! See you there!”
There’s a good chance he won’t let me in when I get there. He could change his mind during the drive. But having me stay there means he gets money, along with a cook, a maid, and a babysitter. He’d be stupid to turn that down.
After I pack all my clothes, I go to the living room to see if I want anything. I won’t be coming back here, and next week, the apartment manager will come in and toss everything out.
Looking around, I don’t see anything I’d want to take. There aren’t any pictures on the wall or family heirlooms on a shelf. There’s just the sunken-in couch, Ted’s ratty recliner, the rusty metal tray he used for his meals, and his collection of ashtrays, which he displayed on the shelf that’s next to his chair.
I walk to the door, getting one last look at the place I called home for the past 11 years. It’s full of bad memories. The only good ones were when Easton was here. Now Easton’s just a part of my past, just like this apartment will be when I walk out the door.
