but it took you weeks to realize it. Did you even notice I was sleeping here? You gave me thirty miles of free leash. Did you think I wouldn’t use it?”
Rachel frantically applied lip gloss again.
“Okay,” Mom said. The cat was crawling around her neck. She pulled it off and handed it to Rachel, which I thought was probably against referee rules. Rachel did look happier with the kitten, though. “Okay. So where does that leave us? I’m not going to fight anymore. God, Lewis. I don’t want to fight with her. I thought she was dead.”
Dad’s lips made a thin line, but he sealed his mouth shut.
I took a deep breath and steeled myself. I had to get this out right. “I’m moving out.”
“You are not,” Dad said immediately.
“That is why I’m moving out,” I replied. “You don’t get to tell me what to do all of a sudden. You can’t just wait until I start to choose my own family and my own life and my own happiness and say, no, Grace, that’s not allowed. Go back to being lonely and miserable and a grade-A student! It’s not fair. It’d be different if you were there like Rachel’s parents or Sam’s parents.”
My father made a face. “The ones who tried to kill him?”
“No, Beck,” I said. I thought about that afternoon, Beck and Sam, head to head, that silent bond so strong that it was visible to bystanders. I thought about Sam’s gestures, putting his hands behind his head, how he had gotten them from Beck. I wondered if there was anything of my parents in me, or if who I was was entirely cobbled from books and television and teachers at school. “Sam would do whatever Beck asked him to do, because Beck’s always been there for him. You know who’s always been there for me? Me. Family of one.”
“If you think you’re going to convince me,” my father said, “you’re not. And the law is on my side, so I don’t need to be convinced. You are seventeen. You don’t get to make decisions.”
Rachel made a noise that I thought was her refereeing but turned out to be just the kitten biting her hand.
I hadn’t really thought I would persuade Dad that easily. It was principle now, I could see, and Dad wouldn’t back down from that. My stomach squeezed again, nerves crawling up into my mouth. I said, my voice lower, “Here’s the deal. I’m going to do summer school to finish high school, and then I’m going to go to college. If you let me move out now, I will actually talk to you guys after I hit age eighteen. Or you can call the cops and force me to stay and I will sleep in that bed and follow all your brand-new rules, and then, when midnight rolls over on my birthday, that room will be empty and I will never come back. Don’t think that I’m joking. Look at my face. You know I’m dead serious. And don’t talk to me about the law, Dad! You hit Sam. Tell me what side of the law that’s on?”
My stomach was a disaster zone. I had to will myself not to say anything else, to shove words into the empty space.
There was complete silence at the table. My father turned his face away and looked out the window at the back deck, though there was nothing to see but blackness. Rachel pet the kitten furiously and it purred as if it would split its ribs, loud enough that it filled the room with the sound. My mother’s fingers rested on the edge of the table, her thumb and forefinger pressed against each other as she moved her hands back and forth, like she were measuring out invisible thread.
“I’m going to suggest a compromise,” she said. Dad glared at her, but she didn’t look back.
Disappointment sat in my chest, heavy. I couldn’t imagine a compromise that would come anywhere near to being acceptable.
“I’m listening,” I said, voice flat.
Dad burst out, “Amy! A compromise? You can’t be serious. We don’t need that.”
“Your way’s not working!” Mom snapped.
Dad leveled a glare at my mother, charged with so much anger and disappointment.
“I can’t believe you’re going to condone this,” he said.
“I’m not condoning. I talked to Sam, Lewis. You were wrong about him. So now it’s my turn to talk.” To me, she said, “This is what I suggest. You stay here until you turn eighteen, but we