Standing, he gathered his pens into a pile on top of his books, grabbed his Coke, and stalked through the kitchen to the garage. “Nothing.”
“Everett.”
“Mind your business, Clover.” The door shut behind his cold words.
It was Christmas Eve when Everett Taylor snuck into my room for the first time.
The window opened, and a scream collected in my throat when he hit the floor with a thud that I worried would wake my parents. I held it at bay and scrambled upright, blinking as Everett rose from the ground.
He picked up one of my books and the jar of pens he’d knocked off my nightstand, setting them back on the glossy white wood as I held my breath, wondering if this was a dream. All the while listening for any sounds of the house stirring.
Nothing.
“What are you doing?” I moved to turn the lamp on, but Everett grabbed my hand.
“Don’t. I… Can I sleep on the floor?”
I frowned. “The floor? What’s going on?”
His hand was cold and large around mine, and kind of rough. I eyed it in the dark, and then he released me. “Just give me an answer. Or else I’ll go find a nice porch seat to sleep on instead.”
“Fine.” I shook my head, still dazed from sleep, his touch, and his sudden invasion.
I got up and grabbed the mink blanket draped over the chair at my desk, then tossed him all the throw pillows I had, and my second pillow. “Why would you need to sleep on a porch?”
I wasn’t shocked when he didn’t answer. A minute later, he’d kicked off his shoes and was lying there with the pillows piled around him, staring up at the ceiling.
Yawning, I glimpsed the time. 2:30 a.m. I rolled to my back, staring at the glow worms Dad had glued to the ceiling when I was a kid.
“I’m surprised those things still glow at all, considering how old they must be.” His words were a little slurred, a tell-tale sign he’d been drinking. Something he, my brother, and the band spent a lot of time doing these days.
I didn’t like the way he was trying to change the subject, or how easily he could derail my thoughts, so I said nothing.
“Clover?” he asked after another minute slid by.
“You went out tonight?”
“Some party down by the beach,” he mumbled. “Couldn’t get back inside, ’kay? No big deal.”
“You have keys,” I said, unwilling to budge just yet.
“You don’t want me here?” His tone conveyed playful humor, a rarity, but I didn’t let it fool me.
“I want you anywhere you’re safe,” I said, then added, “We all do.”
Silence arrived, and my eyes were drifting closed when he finally said, “They had the locks changed.” A gruff laugh lit my stomach on fire. “Figures. Can’t spare enough money to make sure we’ve got food in the house, but they’ll find a way to change the locks.”
My eyes widened as all traces of sleep fled. This was the most he’d ever admitted about his parents, who were now widely known throughout the neighborhood for their domestic disputes. As well as the rumors that shadowed them from the town they’d left behind. Though no one ever quite knew what to believe.
Some said they owed money to a huge drug lord and had to skip town or else they’d wind up dead. Some said there’d been an accident, but everyone had a different story on just who it was who’d been in the accident.
I did my best to keep any pity or sympathy from my voice, knowing it’d be the fastest way to make him clam up. “Everett.” I swallowed. “Why would they do that?”
I wasn’t sure if he’d answer, but he did. “To spite me.”
My next breath burned my lungs. “You never said where you moved here from.”
His exhale was rough. “Because it’s not worth talking about.” A moment later, he cursed, hissing through his teeth as he shifted on the floor.
“You’re hurt,” I said, rolling over to switch on the lamp.
He flinched, shoving his hand up to shield his eyes. “Fuck, Clover. I said not to turn that thing on.”
Absorbing the busted lip and his half shut, swollen eye, anger had me shooting out of bed.
“Wait,” he said. “It’s okay, really.”
“It’s not okay. They fucking beat you up!”
His lip curled. “Cussing now, Clover? We really are a bad influence on you.”
I ignored him and went to the kitchen to fetch an ice pack and some towels, trying to make as little noise as