Like student government? Or the debate team? I bet you’d be good at that—”
“Mom,” I say sharply, cutting her off. “I’ll talk to the coach, okay?” I say just to pacify her, even though I have no intention of actually doing it. Spending extra time with Taylor and Alexis isn’t exactly at the top of my to-do list. I’d rather join that aforementioned debate team.
“Thank you,” she says, smiling, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. Not that my mom’s ever been the poster child for happy and carefree, but lately, I get the sense that she’s worried about something in a big way. And it makes me feel uneasy. I tell myself that she’s simply extra high-strung after two funerals in the past year and ending her relationship with August, but something tells me it’s beyond that. I make a mental note to call Grey and see if he has any idea about what’s going on with her, though I doubt he’ll be much help. I doubt he’ll even answer.
“So, what’d you do last weekend?” I ask, trying to sound nonchalant as I make my way over to the fridge. I pluck the pitcher of water out and pour myself a glass. “When I got home, your car was gone.”
“Oh, nothing special. Just had some stuff to do,” she says, not meeting my eyes, followed by her signature sniff. “What about you?”
I slam the pitcher down onto the counter, none too gently, causing her to flinch. I can’t exactly call her on her lie. That would incriminate me. I was supposed to be at Valen’s house. “Really?” I prod, ignoring her question. “Nothing at all?”
She meets my eyes, suspicion finally creeping in. “What I do in my free time is adult business.”
I scoff. Adult business? “I’ll bet it was,” I quip, my innuendo clear.
“Shayne,” she scolds, looking at me as if she doesn’t recognize me. That makes two of us.
I reach down for my backpack, taking everything out except my notebook and a couple pens, then I swipe the throw blanket off the back of the couch and stuff it inside the backpack before zipping it up. I shrug it on one shoulder and head for the door. It’s not that I care what she does, but if she’s planning to move us in with some new guy, I’m going to have to figure something else out. I’m not moving again.
“Where are you going?”
I turn and look at her over my shoulder. “What I do in my free time is adult business.”
By the time I make it to the barn, it’s starting to get dark, and I kick myself for not having the foresight to bring a flashlight. The one on my phone will have to do. Lifting the rock, I scoop up the key and make quick work unlocking the padlock. These woods never used to scare me—probably because Thayer was always with me—but now, alone right before dark, I’m a little on edge.
I close the door behind me, instantly feeling safer, calmer, now that I’m inside. I close my eyes and inhale, taking in the familiar scent. Of everything from my life before, I think I miss being in this place most of all. And the person who was here with me.
I shake away the thought, walking over to the couch. I drop my bag onto the floor and fish out the blanket before spreading it out over one side of the couch. Turning on the flashlight on my phone, I prop it up on the cushion, then retrieve my notebook and the first pen I touch. I try not to think about the fact that the couch is full of dirt and dust, or that this place has probably become home to God knows how many bugs and critters.
I sit down, tucking my legs underneath me, and I start to write. And write. And write. I write to my brother. I write to Danny. I write to my mom and Grey. And I write to Thayer. I fill pages and pages of all the things I never said—of all the things I’ll never say. And it’s not until I’m done that I notice a tear rolling down my face. I bring two fingers to my cheek, collecting the moisture before rubbing my thumb and fingers together until they’re dry. I don’t think I’ve allowed myself to cry since the night of the funeral…for so many reasons. I didn’t have the right, and more than that, I was