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“I’m sure she’ll be back,” my dad says. “She has school. She’s not going to leave this close to graduating.”
“You don’t get it. I don’t know why I’m even trying to explain it to you.” I push away from the table and stand up. “You got what you wanted. She’s gone. Oh, and you can skip all the questions about me missing hockey practice. I missed them because I was looking for Nova. I wasn’t sick.”
I leave the dining room and go down the hall, stopping when I hear my mom crying.
“I feel terrible, Stephen,” my mom says. “This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.”
I turn and go back, remaining in the hall so they can’t see me.
“We are not doing this again,” my dad says in an angry tone. “I am not letting Easton stir up old feelings that should remain buried in the past.”
“The feelings never went away,” she says, sniffling. “And seeing her again—”
“Made you think of Easton at that age. That’s why you’re getting all worked up about this. You remember Easton as a small child, scared and in need of a home.”
“It’s not that,” she says. “You know it’s not.”
“Then go back to therapy and deal with this once and for all.”
Deal withwhat? And since when does my mom go to therapy?
“I’m going to my office,” my dad says. I hear his chair sliding back on the wood floor.
“What about Nova?” my mom says. “What if she’s living on the streets?”
“She’s not our problem. And I don’t think either of us should be giving Easton false hope. If she’s moved away, she’s probably gone for good. Easton just needs to accept that.”
I hear my dad’s footsteps and race down the hall before he sees me.
At least my mom has enough of a heart to be concerned about Nova. My dad doesn’t care what happens to her. I used to look up to my dad, but now? I don’t want to be anything like him.
8
Nova
It’s beenfive days since I moved in with my dad but it feels more like five years. I’m so bored. I still don’t have a key so I can’t leave the apartment. My dad comes and goes throughout the day, but he won’t tell me where he goes.
My dad’s a slob—even worse than Ted—so I spend at least an hour a day cleaning the apartment. It shouldn’t take that long, but I drag it out because I’m so damn bored. I’m also starving. My dad eats out all the time so he doesn’t keep much food in the fridge or the cupboards. I found some cans of soup so I ate those, along with some bread that I had to cut the mold off of. My dad left out a plastic cup and told me to leave money in it for anything I ate. He’s definitely Ted’s son. They’re exactly alike.
My only entertainment the past few days has been looking out the window, watching people fight on the street or get arrested and hauled away by the cops. I guess babysitting Rita could also be considered entertainment. I like seeing her reaction when I tell her stories and make goofy voices. She watches me like she’s completely fascinated by me, and she follows me wherever I go, even to the bathroom. She’s in desperate need of attention. Her mom must ignore her when she’s with her.
Belinda spent last night here. She and my dad were going at it in his room for almost an hour, the bed banging against the wall. Rita and I were on the couch. She fell asleep right away, despite all the noise, while I lay awake wishing I was back with Ted. As much as I hated living with him, it was better than living here. And back home I had my friends, and my job, and… Easton. I miss him so much. Being bored all day makes me think about him even more.
The door swings open and my dad walks in. “Got your key.” He throws it at me and it hits my forehead, then lands in my lap.
“Thanks,” I mutter.
I check the time. It’s after seven. I still can’t figure out where he goes all day.
“You eat?” he says, going to the kitchen.
“No. There’s no food.”
“Go clean up. We’re going out.”
“Where? To dinner?” I ask, shocked, because this is the first time he’s offered to take me anywhere.
“We’re meeting someone at the place down the street. He’s picking up the tab.”
