Change of Plans - C.L. Blackwell Page 0,18

an idiot and went back to Brody’s car. It was time to have a talk with Brody, she needed to know. Like yesterday. Not telling her wasn't protecting her, only hurting her.

Chapter Thirteen

Family Secrets

Allie

I feel like crying, and I have no idea why. I haven’t cried since my mom’s death and the events that followed. Then again, when you’re eleven and your mom dies, you feel like you could cry a river. I didn't though, I cried twice- once when I found out, and on the first birthday that she missed. Not because I didn't love her, or because I didn't miss her, I did, like crazy. But I knew my mom, she wouldn't want us mourning forever. So I didn't mourn forever. My dad, on the other hand, has been mourning for nearly six years straight.

My mom was beautiful. Inside and out. She was kind and loving, and she cared for everyone and everything. When I was nine, she found a cat. My dad wanted to get rid out it, but my mom kept it. The poor thing was terrified of my dad, but she loved Mom. After Mom had died, she ran away. I guess there was no reason to stick around anymore.

She died in a car accident. It was a drunk driver on a late Saturday night and no one around for miles. I was told that Sunday at 11 o’clock. I was sleeping upstairs when there was a knock at the door, my dad answered it and then he was crumpled on the ground, in shock. We all mourned in different ways. My dad locked himself in his office at the university where he studies animal behavior and teaches classes. My brother mourned alone, and when it was apparent that Dad was going to be staying at the office more, he started taking care of us. I was at school the next day. I didn't keep my head down, or run to the bathroom to cry. Instead, I held my head high and didn't take any crap from anyone. I was eleven years old, and I fortified myself, cared for myself, and raised myself. My days consisted of Matt, the only person who didn't look at me with pity in his eyes, and taking pictures with the camera Mom gave me. My dinners consisted of chicken pot pie and lasagna that the neighborhood mothers dropped on our porch. My life consisted of "sorry for your loss" from people I didn't know and flowers at the doorstep. My heart consisted of nothing. My plans consisted of getting out of this town. And my feelings consisted of pain; there wasn't room for anything else.

After years of holding my head high, here I was, about to break down. And for what reason? I had no idea. Not too long after Caleb left, I heard the front door open. Brody. I guess Caleb told him, or he sensed it, because he came straight to my room. He crawled next to me in bed and wrapped his arms around me, like he use to do when we were little kids. All the emotions that I had held up suddenly poured out and I was balling in his arms, just like I was on my twelfth birthday when Mom wasn't there. He held me tightly, whispering now and then that everything would be alright. I hoped he was right because I wasn't sure if I could handle this for much longer. First Mom left, then Dad, then Brody and today, Matt. I couldn't lose anyone else.

Brody and I fell asleep that way, close and snug- how siblings should be. When I woke up he was gone, but that was alright. Having my old brother, the one who was always there for me, back for one night was enough. Downstairs, pots banged and the smell of bacon floated up to my room. Yum. I threw on a clean shirt and my hair in a ponytail and bounced down the stairs.

Brody was standing at the stove cooking eggs, and the table was set for three. Yet, there was enough food to feed an army. He turned to the fridge and grabbed the orange juice, filling up a glass for me. “We aren't going to school today,” he said with no explanation. Usually, I would have fought him on it, but I needed a day off.

“Okay, is Dad coming home?” I asked, questioning the third place setting.

“No, Caleb is on his way. We have something