Page 52

I’m saying.

“Oh, Drew.” She lets out a breathy sigh. “Don’t take

what I said so seriously. I didn’t mean anything by it.” “No, Laine. I know how you’re feeling. And I’m

assuming that’s why you’ve felt so distant recently.” “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I picture her shaking her head over the phone. It’s

crazy how familiar I’ve become with her mannerisms. How

easily I can predict her motions just by the sound of her

voice. The idea that we’ve become so close for me to be

able to do that quickly brings me back to my main

objective of the call, and I decide to play it safe.

“Laine, I know you’re scared. I know you have a lot

running through your mind right now.” I say in a softer

tone, hoping to get through to her. To get her to let her

guard down around me like she did so easily the first time

she cried in my arms at the playground.

“Just forget I said anything, okay?” She sounds worn.

“I have to go. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Wait-” I start, but the line clicks and all I hear is

silence.

Great. I’ve gone and messed it up again. I pushed her

further. I don’t know why she’s choosing to distance herself now after all we’ve been through. After she opened up to me so easily when we barely knew each other. Now, we’re closer than ever, yet she feels so far. So guarded.

******

I’m tired, and my head hurts after staring at a Krebs cycle diagram for two hours, trying to memorize all the steps. Iscoot my chair back, pushing off my desk with my feet. There’s nothing an apple and a bit of Advil can’t solve.

When I reach the top of the steps, I hear my mom talking to someone. She’s angry; I recognize her stern voice that comes out only when I’ve gotten in serious trouble. Then, I hear a man’s voice. Stealthily, I take each step on the stairs with great precaution, extra slow on the steps I know squeak. When I round the corner, my eyes shoot to the living room, then the front door.

That’s when I see him.

My chest drops as I take in the man standing in the foyer. I almost don’t recognize him immediately.

Roy is in my house.

“Hey, ladybug.” Roy catches my eye and beckons me over. He holds out his arms, and I can’t tell whether he’s presenting himself overenthusiastically or expecting a hug.

I don’t walk over. I don’t move from the bottom step. I don’t step onto the kitchen floor that connects with the living room that connects with the foyer. I don’t dare stand on the same ground as him. Instead, I book it back upstairs.

Slamming the door behind me, I slump against it using all my body weight. I hear my mom’s footsteps rushing toward my room, but I keep my back to the door.