Fifteen Lanes - S.J. Laidlaw Page 0,7

I love my parents. They’re great people. But we’re as different as strawberries from a lima bean. They’re smart, good-looking and athletic. Sound familiar? If I didn’t have my dad’s hazel eyes, I would have been sure I was adopted.

“How was school?” asked Mom.

“Fine.”

“Did anything exciting happen?” asked Dad.

“No.”

“What was the most interesting thing you learned?” he persisted.

That Madison hated me. “Nothing.”

“So, who are you eating lunch with these days?” My dad’s not a quitter.

“Just a bunch of girls.”

“It must be hard without Tina,” said Mom sympathetically. “Have you heard from her recently?”

This was a sore point. Tina had missed our last two scheduled Skype chats because she was hanging out with new friends. She had a boyfriend now too, which made me feel even more left behind. “A couple of weeks ago. We’re both pretty busy.”

There was a long silence. My parents exchanged glances. They were debating whether to challenge me. I’d been home directly from school every day since term started and I was home every weekend as well. I was the walking definition of not busy.

“I got a message from Kyle,” said Mom. “Only that he arrived safely.” She couldn’t keep the wistfulness out of her voice though she was putting on a brave face. “I imagine there’s a lot going on. He’ll write more when he settles in.”

“Absolutely,” agreed Dad. “And he’ll start football practice soon. He’s going to have to work hard to keep up his grades.”

“He’ll be fine,” said Mom. “He’s always been good at managing his time.”

“I bet he has a girlfriend before long,” said Dad.

“It will be strange not to know his friends,” said Mom.

“We can always meet them when we go home on vacation this summer.”

“That’s true, but I wish we’d taken him to school.”

“We can Skype him this weekend.”

They continued like this for the next fifteen minutes, talking about the kid who wasn’t there, instead of to the one who was. I didn’t blame them. Mom and Dad wanted nothing more than to talk to me. I was the one who pushed them away. I always felt bad about it afterwards but I couldn’t stop myself. The way they hovered over me, always worried I’d have no friends, or do poorly in school, drove me crazy. I was the sole reason they’d decided to stop moving. It was my academics and social isolation they were concerned about. Even when I had Tina, they went over the top trying to make her feel welcome, like they didn’t trust me to hang on to her friendship by myself. Of course, it turned out they were right.

I sat for a few more minutes listening to them talk about Kyle. Finally, using the homework excuse, I retreated to my room. Bosco, the family Bichon, was already asleep on my bed. Someone must have put him there. Bosco was way too lazy to jump up on furniture by himself. I didn’t care how he got there; I appreciated it. Kyle was Bosco’s favorite, but with Kyle gone I was happy to take his place.

“Shove over, Bosco,” I said, flopping down beside him and reaching for the TV remote. Friday used to be my favorite night of the week. Tina and I had a well-established routine. We’d sleep over at my house or hers and watch old Bollywood movies long into the night, then all day Saturday we’d hang out at the club. One of the weird advantages of Mumbai being such an overcrowded city, with few public facilities, was that everyone who could afford it joined expensive health clubs, with everything from swimming pools to tennis courts. Our families were no exception.

My room felt unfamiliar without Tina in it, as if all the furniture had been slightly rearranged to hide a major theft. Even my bed felt wrong. I switched on the TV, a present from my parents two Christmases earlier. It was bigger than the one in the family room. They, too, had loved my Friday night routine—it was more proof that I had a friend and was happy. The TV was a bribe to make Tina enjoy spending time with me. It was one of many. For three straight years our fridge was stocked with fresh sushi, even though Tina was the only one who ate it. And she and I always got first dibs on rides. That used to bug Kyle. Even if he’d asked for the car first, if we decided at the last minute that we wanted to go somewhere,