subject.” He dumped a bowl with cereal dried to its edges into the sink.
Mom scowled, grabbing it and the scrubbing brush.
Dad spoke above the sound of the water. “You think his parents are beating him?”
Hendrix tipped a shoulder, then crossed his arms over his chest. A sign he was worried, but not wanting to give too much away. “Something’s definitely not right. I’m never invited over there, and when I tried to get in the week before last, he told me to fuck off and said he’d see me later.”
“Hendrix,” Mom gasped.
Hendrix winced. “What? It’s what he said.”
“Christ,” Dad muttered again, hands on his hips as he stared at the ground. He was a tall man, broad and built from working construction all day long. His beard, tinted with silver, almost touched his chest. Mom hadn’t liked it at first, but now she smirked this weird way whenever she touched it. “Okay,” he said, hands rising into the air as he left the kitchen. “I’ll come home early tomorrow to try to catch him before he leaves and see if he’ll talk.”
Mom, smiling down at the sink, yelled, “Love you, baby!”
“Yeah, yeah,” he echoed back, making her laugh.
She shut the water off, and I went to leave after Hendrix. I was supposed to be online already to chat with Adela.
“Stevie, babe?” Mom called before I got two feet into the hall.
I paused, turning. “Yeah?”
“Do you see much of Everett?” She was leaning against the counter, flicking through a cookbook, but I knew she wasn’t looking for something or reading anything.
“No,” I lied. “Mainly just on the bus. He mostly hangs with Hendrix when he’s here or plays guitar for a few minutes until he gets here.”
Twisting her lips, she looked up, eyeing me for a stretched moment. “Okay. Bring out your dirty laundry before bed. I’m starting a load in the morning.”
I nodded, walking away as the taste of my lie soured my mouth. I didn’t know why I didn’t tell her Everett came over some afternoons after school when Hendrix was out. But it kept me awake until midnight when I finally realized why.
I liked it. Even if we hardly said ten words to one another most afternoons. I liked that one hour and twenty minutes of just us.
“Go fish.”
I slid a card from the deck, inwardly cursing at the three. I needed another four.
“And don’t do that.”
Brows pinching, I asked, “Do what?”
Everett studied his cards. “Don’t go sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong, Clover.”
Heat engulfed my cheeks, the kind I was unable to stop or hide, so I ducked my head.
True to his word, Dad had come home early two nights ago and cornered Everett on his way out. I didn’t hear what was said on our porch, but from the lines etching Dad’s pursed lips, I knew he didn’t get any answers. Everett had apparently acted confused, then went home as soon as he could.
“It wasn’t…” I was about to say it wasn’t my idea, but that would’ve been a lie. It’d been a group idea, and one I hadn’t protested. “Sorry.” After a few minutes, I set the cards down, not in the mood to play anymore. I wasn’t used to this kind of silence from him, and I didn’t like it.
“Clover,” he said when I stood and went to the kitchen.
Opening the fridge, I grabbed a soda and shut the door with my hip. “Yeah?”
More strange silence and then he sighed. “Nothing.”
The front door opened and closed, and Dale’s and Graham’s laughter reached my ears before they rounded the corner and dumped themselves into seats at the dining table.
“A little early for poker, no?” Dale started collecting the cards, then tried to shuffle them. They all fell and scattered to the scuffed wooden table.
“We weren’t playing poker,” I said, popping the tab on my can and taking a sip.
“Oh hey.” Graham spun his drumsticks between his fingers. “What’s up, little sis?”
“I’m not your little anything, ham.”
“Ohhh.” Laughing, Dale slugged Graham in the arm, causing his drumsticks to clatter to the table and floor.
Graham just grinned, then waggled his glasses.
Glancing at Everett before leaving, I found his eyes stuck on Graham and that familiar rigidness returning to his jaw.
I didn’t hang around. Hendrix would be home soon, and I wanted to watch some TV before the house filled with noise.
Settling into the soft brown leather, I flicked through the channels, unable to decide on anything before Hendrix opened and closed the front door.