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“What’s a Titan?” she questions, and her mom and I chuckle. I begin to explain, but she soon cuts me off, clearly finding it boring. “Do you wanna play with me?”
“Oh, honey. He’s working. I doubt he can do that,” her mom says, giving me an excuse to say no.
“I don’t mind,” I tell her, “if you’re okay with it.”
She smiles. “Thank you, Atlas. I’m Naomi.”
“Nice to meet you.”
Wendy leads us to a table where we eat cookies and play with Legos. I build her a princess, which Wendy goes wild over.
In these moments, it’s easy to forget everything else, to try and pretend none of the bad shit happened. That my dad isn’t the world’s biggest prick. That my mom didn’t die…
I shake off those thoughts.
I only hang out with Wendy and Naomi for about half an hour, but I discover that Naomi lost her second job recently and is struggling.
“I’m really sorry. I know that has to be difficult. Sometimes it feels like the system is set up to keep people down.”
“It really does. It doesn’t help that I didn’t finish high school. My mom didn’t either. I want something different for Wendy.”
“And you’ll get it. You’re doing all the right things.” My words feel useless. I wish I had more to offer. Poverty is a cycle, tending to repeat for generation after generation. “Thank you for sharing with me.”
We stand up and say goodbye. The moment feels both light and heavy. Her life isn’t easy, but being here, talking like this with her, it means something to me. These are the real parts of me that matter—and then I remember that I might have to share this with Troy. The thought makes me raw, like I’ll be giving him a piece of myself that no one whoreallyknows me has. That I’d never give to Glen or even Ellie because I can’t bear the thought of letting them inside.
When the event ends, all of us volunteers clean up. I head over to Dixon and tell him, “I got Troy.”
“No shit?” His eyes nearly glow.
Maybe I’m jumping the gun, but again, how in the fuck can Troy go from an F to an A? This bet is perfect for both of us—he’ll work hard to get a better grade to prove himself to me, andunless he’s a super genius and gets an A, I’ll get him to help with the auction.
But what if he does pull it off? Troy’s Mr. Perfect. If he pulls this off, he won’t participate in the auction. Raising money for those in need is the most important thing. Hell, I’ll participate myself if I have to. I can bring in just as much money as Troy, so if I can’t get him, as much as it will suck, I’ll step in and take his place.
“It’s under control,” I say with confidence.
“You’re the best, Atlas. Seriously. You do good work, and I appreciate how much you care.”
It’s not often I hear something like that, and I’m not sure how to react, so I just say, “Catch ya later, man,” and bail.
The second I’m in my car, my phone dings with a text. I groan. One moment I’m feeling like I’m doing something that matters, and one glance at Glen’s name and all that comes crashing down.
Glen: You’re expected at home for Ellie’s birthday this weekend.
Fuck my life. How could I have forgotten her birthday?
I hate playing nice with them. And why would they want me at Ellie’s party anyway? But I know the answer. As always, it’s all about appearances. He wants to parade us around so he can pretend he doesn’t think I’m a fuckup. That he supports my choices—any of them. He’ll do the same with Troy, though he actually does support more of his.
Glen: And youwillbe on your best behavior.
Me: Will I, though? I’m not sure about that.
My phone rings, and I drop my head back against the seat. “What?” I answer.
“I’m not playing, Atlas. I know you don’t care about anyone other than yourself, but Ellie loves you and considers you her son.”
“I’m not,” I snap. She’s not my mom and never will be.
“When will you stop punishing everyone? Your mom wouldn’t want this for you,” he says, which is like he’d just ripped my heart out and stomped on it. That’s the one thing he’s right about. She was a good person, and eventually would have forgiven him. She would have forgiven Ellie, and she would have wanted me to do the same.
