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I bite back a frustrated growl and slap my phone down on the table with a little more force than necessary.
“He comin’ home to eat?” my dad asks.
“Apparently not. He’s at Freddie’s. He wants me to throw it in the fridge for him.”
My dad whistles low between a gap in his teeth that matchesmine. “I remember when I was fourteen with my head up my ass.”
“Anyone else want his burgers? Have at them. They won’t be any good cold, and the microwave is on the fritz.”
“I keep meaning to have someone look at that…” My dad trails off. We both know he doesn’t mean it, though.
“I’m good,” Garrett says, and I notice she’s watching me with that wrinkle between her brows again. It’s easy to see my little sister and assume she’s just like every other ten-year-old, but she’s not even close. She’s like ten going on Einstein, Freud, and Marie Curie rolled into one precocious package.
I hold the sack out to my dad. He shakes his head.
“You should eat it, Win,” Garrett presses.
I take out one of the burgers because she’s right, and then I stuff the other in the fridge before slamming it shut.
I slump down in a chair and try not to notice the empty one across from me. Jesse’s been MIA more and more lately—staying out late with his group of friends, exploring all the new freedom that comes with being in high school. It would be helpful if he’d get a job, but with my dad working third shift and me needing my car to get to both the ranch and Garrett, I can’t be driving Jesse to a minimum-wage job, too. Plus, he’s only a freshman. Heshouldbe focusing on his grades. And being a kid. Just because I got a job at his age doesn’t mean he should have to.
But it would be nice if he were aroundsome. If he could take on a little responsibility for Garrett. Or clean up around the trailer. Or be the one to shake my dad awake for work every day at four when he leaves his phone on silent.
As usual, I can’t tell if I’m angry at Jesse for being irresponsible or if I’m just jealous.
I graduated from high school early, over a year ago, and the idea of me leaving town for college was never even considered. It’s always been a foregone conclusion I would stick around. I turned eighteen, and no one aside from Garrett even acknowledged it.
That’s not to say I don’t love my dad and brother. I do. I get things are hard. My mom ran out after Garrett was born and never looked back. That’s some real baggage-building shit right there. Jesse has gobs of resentment toward everyone: At me, for trying to mother him so damn much. At my dad, for being absent 95 percent of the time. At Garrett, for being the golden child accepted into the gifted programs of her choice on a full scholarship. The hard truth is Garrett’s special without even trying, and there’s no way she’s gonna end up stuck in a trailer park for the rest of her life.
The rest of us can’t claim the same.
Well. That’s not entirely true. Camilla offered me a place to rent on the ranch. Bless her heart, she even phrased it as if I’d be doing her a favor being on-site. But even as reasonable as it is (and it was asteal), I can’t afford the rent when every penny I make goes toward robotics camps for Garrett and a smartphone for Jesse so he can call home and let us know where he is. Plus, who would take care of these guys? All the day-to-day stuff that needs doing?
I mean, Garrett’s ten, so what are we talking here? Eight more years? I’ll be twenty-seven by then. That’s not too old for college and a career, right? Lots of adults go to college later.
Likesingle moms and dads, but still. And here I am, never even had a real boyfriend. A few quick hookups this last summer with tourists on solo trail rides. But making out with a guy youwere hired to hang out with isn’t exactly worth bragging about to your friends.
If I had friends. All the friends I might’ve had in high school left for college last fall, leaving me behind.
My forehead drops forward on the table with a groan. I’m pathetic. Worse than pathetic.
I need a friend. And a boyfriend. Unbidden, a smooth, full-lipped smile, bracketed on one side by a deep dimple, intrudes into my thoughts, and I whimper.
Not cute. Not cute.Not. Cute.
“You okay, Win?”
I raise my head and crack open one eye. My dad’s gone, but Garrett is still sitting at the table, her remaining nuggets lined up in a neat row in front of her.
“I’m good, kiddo. Just thinking of someone.”
“Someone?”
My breath catches. “I meant something.”
Her expression twinkles. “I don’t think you did.Whoooowere you thinking about?”
I sigh, casting a glance at our dad’s bedroom. The low buzz of a college basketball game filters under the door. I guess I should be grateful he hasn’t left us for the VFW yet, but it’s still early. Monday through Friday nights, my dad works at the tire plant. Saturdays and Sundays, he sleeps most of the day to remain on his third-shift schedule. And after, he belongs to the Church of Stale VFW Hall and Darts.
