Page 13 of The Silence Between
LEO
The morning air was cold enough to make my face hurt as I huddled on our crappy balcony, watching the sun drag itself over East Riverton's mess of buildings. My coffee was hot enough to fog my glasses, which was the only real warmth I was getting after a night of basically zero sleep. My brain kept playing our bridge conversation on repeat like some annoying song you can't get out of your head.
The sliding door made that awful screeching noise that I still need to fix, and Mari appeared with her own chipped mug, plopping into the plastic chair beside me. The early light hit her hair just right, bringing out those reddish highlights she got from Mom. Sometimes it still catches me off guard how much she looks like her.
“You look like complete garbage,” she observed, blowing on her coffee. “Were you at the bridge last night? I heard you come in super late.”
“Where did you even hear that?”
“Walls are practically made of paper.” She took a sip. “Was Ethan there too?”
I shot her a look. “How did you...”
“Oh please.” She rolled her eyes with all the attitude of a soon-to-be college freshman who thinks she knows everything. “You've only got two settings lately: avoiding Ethan or thinking about avoiding Ethan. So when you disappear in the middle of the night, it's not exactly a giant leap.”
“Yes, he was there,” I admitted. “Total coincidence. Neither of us planned it.”
“And?” She leaned forward, suddenly all attention.
“And we talked. Kind of.” I stared into my coffee like it might contain lottery numbers or something. “I can't keep rearranging our whole lives just to dodge him. Riverton's too small. We know all the same people.”
“So you're going to...what? Be friends?”
“I don't know what we're going to be,” I said honestly. “But that doesn't mean...”
My sentence just died right there. My brain couldn't figure out how to finish without sounding like a total loser or like I was trying too hard to prove I didn't care. Probably both.
Mari studied me with that look she gets sometimes, the one that makes her seem way older.
“You know,” she said, twisting a strand of hair around her finger, “you've spent ten years building this whole life around what you can't have. Maybe it's time to figure out what you actually want.”
“When did you get so wise?” I asked, only half-joking.
She shrugged, but I could see she was pleased. “Probably around the time you were working three jobs and I was basically raising Sophie.”
That hit a nerve. “Mari...”
“I didn't mean it like that,” she said quickly. “You were doing everything you could. We all were.” She took another sip of coffee. “I just mean I had to grow up fast too.”
It was true. While I was working myself to death, Mari had stepped up in ways no kid should have to. Making sure Diego did his homework, getting Sophie to school on time when I had early shifts. She'd been more partner than sister in our little survival operation.
“You know I couldn't have done any of this without you,” I said quietly.
“I know.” She nudged my foot with hers. “That's why you're going to be lost when I leave for college.”
“Don't remind me,” I groaned. “I'm still trying to figure out who's going to make sure Sophie actually brushes her hair.”
Mari laughed. “Diego can step up.”
“Diego can barely remember to wear matching socks.”
“Fair point.” She looked out at the sunrise, suddenly serious. “I worry about you, you know.”
“About me? I'm not the one going off to college in three months.”
“That's exactly what I mean.” She turned to face me. “I'm moving forward. Diego and Sophie are growing up. You're the one who's been stuck in place.”
Before I could defend myself with something clever, Sophie's voice wailed from inside with that particular note of preteen drama that could shatter glass.
“Leo! I can't find my permission slip for the art museum! It's due today!”
Saved by the school emergency. I gulped down the last of my coffee and stood up. “Duty calls.”
“Always does,” Mari agreed, following me inside. But she gave me a look that said our conversation wasn't over.
The apartment had turned into its usual morning chaos. Sophie was emptying her backpack onto the floor like she was looking for evidence at a crime scene. Diego was zombie-walking around with one sock on, staring at his phone like it held the secrets of the universe. Mari somehow jumped right into making lunches while checking her college orientation schedule on her phone.
“The permission slip's on the fridge,” I told Sophie while helping Diego track down his math homework, which had somehow migrated to the bathroom counter. Who does math on the toilet? Teenage boys are a mystery I'll never solve. “And Diego, your geometry test is today. Remember to use the extra time Ms. Wilson set up for you.”
“Like that helps,” he muttered, hunching his lanky frame over his backpack as he shoved papers inside.
“It does help,” I countered, trying to sound encouraging but firm. “You knew all this stuff when we went over it last night. The extra time just lets your brain work the way it needs to.”
He gave me that classic teenage shrug that somehow means “whatever,” “maybe,” and “you might be right but I'd rather die than admit it” all at once.
As I ran through our usual morning circus act, signing Sophie's form, reminding Mari about her financial aid paperwork, and making sure Diego had his calculator, all the Ethan drama faded into the background for a bit. Here in the middle of family chaos, I knew what I was doing. This was my territory, the circus I'd learned to run.
Whatever happened with Ethan would have to work around this reality. My life was already jam-packed with pieces labeled “work,” “siblings,” and “keeping the power company from shutting us off.” Not a lot of room left for “figuring out complicated feelings about the guy I used to love.”
Mari handed me a travel mug of coffee as I grabbed my keys, her expression softer than usual. “Just think about what I said, okay? About figuring out what you want instead of what you can't have.”
“When did you get so smart?” I asked.
“Someone had to be the brains of this operation,” she shot back with a grin.
As I herded everyone toward the door, I found myself actually considering her words. For the first time since Ethan showed up, I let myself wonder what some kind of normal relationship with him might look like. Not hiding behind cereal displays, not some dramatic reunion, just something... normal. Something that wouldn't require me to memorize his schedule like some weird stalker.
“Earth to Leo,” Mari said, waving her hand in front of my face. “We're going to be late.”
“Right,” I said, pushing thoughts of Ethan aside for now. “Let's move, people. Education waits for no Reyes!”
As we piled into the car, Mari caught my eye in the rearview mirror and gave me a knowing look. She really did see too much. Maybe college would be good for both of us, I thought. Her moving forward, and me... well, maybe finally figuring out how to stop standing still.
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