doors away from the bathroom, or you could use the attic room. It has heat and a bed, but it’s less convenient. On the other hand, it’s more private and bigger, and you could do what you want to—within reason—with the space. The choice is up to you.”
He knew without looking that he wanted the attic. The farther away from her, the better.
It was an awesome space, and for a few minutes he forgot to be pissed. Because the house had a high pitched roof and a lot of dormer windows, the attic room had nooks and crannies that made it interesting. It’d be cool to live up here. “This’ll do.”
“Okay, then. I have a friend, Celeste Blessing, who has a treasure trove of furniture and other items that she’s offered for you to choose from to decorate your space.”
“Whatever.”
She stared at him like a cockroach in the kitchen. He tried to give her his don’t-give-a-shit smile, but he was afraid he couldn’t pull it off, so he went with sauntering over to the bed and throwing his duffel and backpack on top of it. “Where’s the pisser?”
After a long moment’s pause, she replied, “Consider this fair warning. I’m going to give you today, TJ. No matter how hard you try to hide it, I know this must be a very difficult day for you. Frankly, it has been for me. So I’m going to give both of us today. The bathroom”—she emphasized the word—“is the first door to the left at the bottom of the attic stairs. Supper is at six.”
She left him then—just in time, thank God, because he felt the tears welling up inside him and he’d rather die than let her see him cry. But the minute he was alone, he sprawled across the bed and bawled like a baby until at some point he fell asleep.
He slept until four o’clock, and when he woke up, he did need to use the crapper. Glancing in the mirror as he washed his hands, he scowled at puffy, red eyes. This sucked.
He went snooping for eyedrops in the drawers and cabinet. When he saw tampons, fingernail polish, and powder-scent antiperspirant instead of shaving lotion and nose hair clippers, he experienced a pang in his chest all over again. He blew out a breath and found anger to replace the pain. Then his gaze fell on an unopened package of eyedrops. Five minutes later, he was sneaking down the staircase hoping to escape the house without his aunt’s notice.
He heard her talking to someone and he stopped to eavesdrop.
“… his hair. He’s not going to fit in and make friends looking like that. I don’t know much about kids, but I do know if I say anything it will backfire.”
Another woman said, “I don’t envy you, Savannah. At least with Alex, I get fourteen years to get ready to have a fourteen-year-old. You didn’t even have a week.”
TJ silently mocked the woman. You didn’t even have a week. Try being on it from my side, lady.
Downstairs, he turned away from the voices and made his way through the shop to the front door, where a rectangular sign reading OPEN faced him. He unlocked the door, and as he went out, he flipped the sign around so that OPEN faced the street rather than the word CLOSED.
“Serves her right for talking about me behind my back,” he declared.
At the end of the walk, he looked both ways. One direction appeared to be just as boring as the other. He headed west, then turned north on a wide street named Spruce, noting that her house was on Fourth so that he could find his way … not home. Never home. Back to his aunt’s house.
He shoved his hands in his pockets as he strolled up the street. His fingers found the money the lawyer had given him for his trip, so when he passed a sandwich shop, he went inside and ordered a soft drink. He couldn’t help but notice that the girl behind the counter had a nose ring.
He wondered if hers was real or fake like his.
He wandered into a gift shop, where the clerk pointed out the NO FOOD OR DRINK sign on the front door. He considered “accidentally” dropping his cup on his way outside, but he still had half of it left. As he walked past the barber shop, he noticed the barber’s disapproving stare, so he grinned and gave his spikes a pat. Good thing