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“Thanks, Jason,” I say before I take a bite as he digs into his own on the other side of the island. Flavor erupts over my tongue, and I gasp in surprise. “Either I’m so hungry everything tastes amazing or this is the best grilled cheese I’ve ever had.”
“I used three different kinds of fresh cheese and a garlic butter spread.”
“Well, it’s amazing. My new favorite sandwich.”
“You’re being dramatic,” Jackson says from beside me, even though he polishes off a half in two bites.
“If you don’t like it, give it back,” Jason says, reaching for his brother’s plate, but Jackson thwarts him by snatching the last half and stuffing it into his mouth.
“Just for that, you’re on cleanup duty.”
Jackson mimics his twin but doesn’t argue, and I laugh as I eat my grilled cheese.
Everything in this house just seems soeasyandcomfortable. Jason, Jackson, and Natalia have something that I’m not used to. The way they move around one another and this space with familiarity, like they all know exactly who they are, like it’s theirhome, is so inspirational, and only serves to point out how glaringly different my home experiences have been. The love they show each other, even while bantering and teasing, is so clear. It makes me happy for them but also sad for myself, because no matter how much I want something like that, it’ll never happen.
“So,” Jackson starts as he does the dishes, “who wants to watchReturn of the Zombie Aliens: Part 1, the movie?”
After dinner, Jason brings my stuff up to the bedroom I’ll be staying in so I can get settled, and I sort through my duffel while he hangs out on the bed and plays on his phone.
Jason, Jackson, and I spent the day together fooling around and goofing off. The two of them together are so funny and ridiculous it helped keep my mind off everything that happened today and everything Dario said to me.
I shouldn’t care about what he says, shouldn’t put any value in his opinion of me, but I can’t help but be hurt by his words. He’s myfather, and he said that hehatesme.
Before we moved here, when he wanted nothing to do with us, at least I could console myself with the fact that he was an asshole who didn’t want me, but it was okay because he never got the chance to actually know me. But now hedoesknow me—at least he kind of does—and hehatesme. I wish I had never gotten to know him. At least I could’ve lived my life not knowing hehatesme and told myself he was missing out.
“What are you thinking about?” Jason asks, looking up from the game on his phone as he lounges on the—my—bed.
The room I’m staying in is very clearly a boy’s room, even though it’s obvious Natalia has had some decorative influence to keep it looking so clean and cohesive. The walls are off-white except for the back accent wall that the bed’s headrest is against, which is a deep green. The comforter on the bed is gray, and so is the fluffy rug covering the hardwood around the bed. There’s a black desk by the wall, and a black dresser that’s empty. There aren’t really any personal items or clothing left from her son, so I’m assuming he took all of that when he moved out.
The best part of the room, however, is the huge window overlooking the front of the house, which I’ve slid up a bit to let in some air. I wonder if Mason ever used this window to sneak out. It slides up instead of out like my window at Dario’s, and it’s large enough that a person could easily fit through. A very motivated person could jump out onto the garage from here and shimmy their way down.
From what I know of Mason from the twins, I could see him doing that back in the day, but then again Natalia is so cool that Mason probably never needed to sneak out; he could just walk out the front door.
“My dad,” I answer Jason, continuing to sort through the clothes I brought. I dumped them all out on the bed since I was so dazed I don’t remember what I put in, and I’ve realized I did a terrible job packing. So far, I’ve counted seven pairs of jeans, three pairs of yoga pants, five shirts, two pairs of shorts, one bra, and forty-two pairs of underwear. No socks, no shoes, no pajamas so far. At least I was coherent enough to grab Jason’s hoodie I kept from when the car was towed, which I carefully hid in one of the empty drawers before he could see it and decide he wants to reclaim it.
“Has he called you?” Jason asks.
“I turned off my phone after lunch, but I doubt it.”
I try not to let the hurt show on my face as I fold the eighth pair of jeans, but Jason sees right through me.
“He’s an idiot, Siena.”
“Logically, I know that. But my heart isn’t listening.”
Jason pulls the pants out of my hands and tugs me down to sit on the bed with him, scattering all the neatly folded clothes. I throw the pile of thongs that was hidden from his view into the duffel before he spots them.
“That man and what he thinks of you has no bearing on who you are. Whatanyonethinks of you doesn’t matter.”
“I know,” I say, getting comfortable against his chest.
It’s easier to open up and be vulnerable when I don’t have to look directly at his piercing eyes. “But after Mom and Aunt Julie, he was my last chance at a family, at feeling like I belonged somewhere, and he wants nothing to do with me. It sucks.”
Jason’s body is tense, and his voice is hard when he says, “He doesn’t deserve you.”
“Maybe not. But I can’t stop myself from mourning what I never had. I always wanted a real family, like what you have here. You and Natalia and Jackson are so at ease and comfortable with one another. You’re afamily, and you belong together. I’ve never had that; I’ve never belonged anywhere.”
“That’s not true.”
