had grown two feet since Everett last mowed it a couple of months ago. That wasn’t what shocked me, though. It was the sight of what had to be his mom outside. A gray cotton nightgown hung from her thin frame, matching the curls in her limp honey blond hair. Leaning up off the porch steps, she seemed to be trying to shut the front window.
She grabbed it, slipped, and landed in the overgrown, weed-strewn garden, cursing as pain no doubt radiated up her legs from the jarring impact. Her cigarette fell from her mouth, and she shoved the tangled mess of hair from her weathered face, bending over to pick it up.
The window remained half open.
I glanced at Adela, who was worrying her lip between her teeth, then I looked back at the cursing, muttering woman. A woman who had to have been beautiful once upon a time. Before life stole that beauty and the light from her familiar green eyes.
“You need some help?” I called out.
She turned, her empty eyes narrowing on us. “Fuck off, little slut.” Then she marched up the driveway. The screen door screeched, slamming closed behind her.
Adela’s brows jumped. “Did she just…?”
“Uh, yup.”
Judging from her puzzled, creased expression, the same one I knew I had to be wearing, she was thinking the same thing. We wouldn’t want to stay there either.
Sighing, I said goodbye when we crossed the road, and Adela headed to the alley that cut through to the next street over.
About to head inside, I paused when I noticed someone had squashed one of my azaleas. Grabbing a spade from the side of the house, I walked around the giant yellow bus that was now painted a solid black and inspected the flower bed behind it.
My stomach drooped when I saw the squashed and wilting cluster. Not much could be done for it, other than to tell someone off. Which I planned to do as soon as Hendrix arrived home.
After taking a shower, I wrapped my hair in a towel, entering the kitchen just as the guys, hollering at each other, bounded inside. They were all here, even Graham.
Everett was the last to arrive and only stalled a second to stare at me before drifting into the kitchen. He didn’t stay. Instead, he walked right into the garage.
I swallowed the thorns invading and cutting my throat, and pasted on a smile. “What’s going on?”
“This fucker over here,” Hendrix said, giving Graham a noogie, “failed to give his beloved college an answer on time. They pulled his scholarship.”
Mouth gaping, I blinked at Graham, who was shoving my brother away. “And this is good news?”
Graham shrugged, not looking the least bit disappointed.
“What do you even mean, Steve?” Hendrix laughed. “Of course, it is. It means he’s coming with us, duh.” He smacked the wall above the door leading into the garage, letting out a hoot as he disappeared.
“Can’t let them have all the fun without me,” Graham said, following Dale, the sound of Hendrix tearing into his guitar greeting them.
“Well, congrats,” I said, belatedly realizing I’d forgotten to harass Hendrix about my azaleas.
I was tempted to go in there. To take the opportunity to see Everett. To watch him. Even if he’d just outright ignored my existence. If only I could’ve made my feet move.
Something that’d once felt as normal as breathing now felt wrong.
It grew worse, the pain I’d tried to ignore in my chest. But I couldn’t bring myself to regret saying those three words to him. It wasn’t a lie. It was a truth that’d sat deep for months, that’d grown roots over time, only growing stronger. Once it’d sprouted, there was no way to bury it. No way to smother it.
It was there, out in the open and starving from lack of warmth. And judging from the glances Mom was giving me over dinner that night, not so easy to hide.
Jumping out of Adela’s car, I told her I’d call tomorrow.
She turned and sped off down the street, and I slung my overnight bag over my shoulder just as Dale’s car pulled up.
I smiled, trying to swallow the memories of the previous weekend that emerged with the force of a battering ram, then halted when the window wound down and a voice that wasn’t Dale’s called out, “Get in, Clover.”
“Everett?” I raised my hand to block the sun, stepping closer. Peering inside the car, I found him leaning over the steering wheel, Ray-Bans and a white shirt on. “Shouldn’t you