but he's fallen in with a shitty group of boys at school and he's doing bad stuff like cutting class, minor shoplifting and I know he's smoked weed a few times. I've smelled it on his clothes.
Our mom doesn't care. I'm the only one who does. And now I'm leaving for a week. He'll be out of school for only half that time, but that's enough time for him to get into trouble.
The tug of war going on in my heart is near overwhelming.
"Why you gotta leave?"
I pull the old duffel bag no one's used in however long from the top shelf of the closet and toss it on my mom's bed. A cloud of dust puffs up when it lands. "I won't be gone long."
"A week, Fable. You're leaving me here with Mom for seven fucking days." Owen flops back onto her bed next to the duffel bag and starts coughing from the dust lingering in the air.
"Don't cuss." I smack his knee and he rolls over with an exaggerated yelp. "It's a special job that's going to pay me a lot of money. We'll have a good Christmas."
"I don't give a shit about Christmas."
I shoot him a harsh glare and he mumbles a halfhearted sorry. Since when did he feel so comfortable cursing like that in front of me? What happened to the whiny little brother who followed me everywhere as if he worshipped me?
"And what sort of special job pays you so much money for such a short amount of time?" The sarcasm in his voice is clear. He's too young - no, not really, I'm just fooling myself - but I hope he doesn't think I'm off prostituting myself.
I sure feel like I am.
My brain scrambles as I try to come up with an excuse. I can't tell Owen what I'm really doing. I didn't tell him how much money I was making. He just knows it's a lot. Didn't tell my mom either, not that she cares. I haven't seen her in well over twenty-four hours, but she has a new boyfriend so I'm sure she's with him. "I'm going to be a nanny for a family while they go on vacation for Thanksgiving break. They have three kids."
The lie falls easily from my lips and that scares me.
Owen starts to laugh, the jerk. "You're going to be a nanny? You hate kids!"
"I do not." I so do. "The family's really nice." I have no idea if the Callahans are nice. "And I get to stay in a huge mansion."
Drew told me his family lives in Carmel. I've never been there, but I've heard of it. I did a little Google research at the library and saw photos. The place looks amazing. Expensive.
Scary.
"You won't want to leave, I guess." Owen sits up, runs his finger across the top of the duffel bag, leaving a streak in the dust. "You're going to look like a broke bitch, showing up with this shitty bag."
"Did you just call me a broke bitch?" I can't be offended because what he says is the truth. I'm going to look ridiculous with my meager wardrobe and my torn and dusty duffel bag. His family will laugh at me. Drew will probably laugh at me. Then he'll press a fifty in the palm of my hand and drop me off at the bus station because he'll realize quick I make the shittiest fake girlfriend ever.
"Maybe." Owen smirks. "I hope you leaving is worth it."
Dread consumes me for the quickest moment, but I shove it away. "It will be, I promise."
"What if Mom disappears?" For a second, I get a glimpse of the old Owen. The little boy who depends on me, who treats me like his mom since ours is so unreliable.
"She won't." I already talked to her and I'll talk to her again before I leave. She needs constant hounding, like I'm the mother and she's the kid. "I'll make her swear to come home every night."
"You better. Or I'll be calling you and begging you to come home." The smirk is back. "I might call you a broke bitch again and you'll get so mad, you have to come here just to kick my ass."
That's it. Reaching for him, I start tickling his sides, my fingers digging into his ribs, the sound of his laughter filling me with happiness. "Stop," he pants between fits of laughter. "Get off me!"
I can almost forget how crappy our life is in this one