Hate Thy Neighbor - S.M. Soto Page 0,39

don’t. It’s obvious he’s asking for a reason, and whatever it may be, I don’t want him to feel alone.

“Sometimes. What makes you ask?”

He shrugs. “Guess I just wondered if she ever misses us, you know? If she regrets the choices she made in life. Maybe things would be different for us.”

A rage so deep and hot boils in my gut, threatening to spill over, as I think about our piece of shit mother. As much as I want to believe our mother feels some type of remorse for her decisions, I know, deep down, that she doesn’t care. She’s probably still out living like white trash and getting high on the daily. No, I’d say Ryder and I are the furthest thoughts from her mind.

“I promise you, Ryder, I’m doing everything I can to get you back. We’re going to be a family again, you understand me?”

My little brother smiles, and my heart shatters when I realize it doesn’t meet his eyes. It’s there merely to please me, to make me feel better. “I know,” he lies.

I suck in a sharp inhale, that much more determined to keep my word.

When I drop him back off at the shithole and remind him to call me every night on his new phone, I head back home, but not before dialing his caseworker.

I’m done waiting around for this shit. My little brother is coming home, and this time, I’m not taking no for an answer.

After my call with the caseworker and the lawyer she recommended to help me, I decide to go for a run to help clear my head. It’s rare I have two days off in a row, and it’s rare I find myself wanting to run. I usually hit the gym and lift weights, as a means of working out and staying fit, but whenever I need to let off steam, running is the only thing that does it for me. When you’re so out of breath, heart pounding, lungs screaming to breathe in air, that’s when you have nothing else on your mind and can finally think clearly.

Before that, I tried working on the car in the garage, like I usually do. That one is my passion project, the car I’ll keep for myself when the time is right. I always knew I’d give Ryder the Camaro, but this one? It’s mine, and usually, it’s enough to get my mind off life and other things bothering me, but not today. With my bandana still wrapped around my head, keeping the stray curls out of my face, and my skin sticky with sweat, I pump my arms, pushing past the lactic acid building in my legs. I inhale and exhale sharply, brushing away the heaviness that’s settling in my muscles and bones.

I’m so lost in thought about Ryder, my mother, and what the future holds for us, so stuck in my own head, that I don’t see it coming until it’s too late. My vision suddenly clears, and my tunnel vision and stress-inducing thoughts vanish when I see her in my running path. She waves, but like a movie reel in slow motion, I see the moment she realizes she’s screwed. I also see the moment in her mind when she realizes she should move out of my path, so I don’t run her over, but that doesn’t happen. Within seconds, I crash into Olivia, and we both go tumbling to the ground.

Clasping her against me, I spin her, allowing my body to drop to the ground. The wind gets knocked out of me upon impact, and my skin scrapes against the ground. When I open my eyes, the only thing I’m worried about is Olivia, who’s deathly silent and too still.

I roll over, gently rolling her onto her back. Her eyes are closed, and she still isn’t speaking, something truly out of character for her. Fear suddenly claws its way up my chest.

“Olivia?” I pant out. I place one hand on her neck, searching for a pulse, making sure I didn’t accidentally hurt her. That’s all I fucking need. Kill the girl next door. It wouldn’t be surprising, knowing my luck. Her eyes suddenly flutter open the second my palm settles along her neck. She glances up at me, eyes dazed, taking a few seconds to focus on her surroundings.

When she still doesn’t utter a word, I call her name again, “Olivia?”

“Feeling of Falling”—Cheat Codes, Kim Petras

“Olivia?”

At his third prompt, I finally force my lids to stay open,

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