“All those meetings and organizing everything.…” I trail off.
Ben shakes his head. “That’s not the only thing the president does. He gets to choose the causes we support and the kinds of things we do for fundraisers. I’m sure you could do better than benefit dinners at the country club for obscure charities no one’s ever heard of.”
“All charities are good causes,” I argue weakly. “Anyway, Priestleyisour president and I’m his VP, so we shouldn’t be talking about this.”
“Are you going to tell Priestley?” Archer asks with a raised eyebrow.
“No.”
His lips quirk, his eyes sayingI knew you wouldn’t.
The guys fall back into easy conversation, but I’m rattled. I wait until enough time has passed to leave without looking suspicious before going back to the house and sneaking up to my room.
The party is winding down, but the murmur of voices and the soft thump of bass from the speakers still travels through the floor. I try to tune into it, but everytime I close my eyes, I see Joe Flannigan in his blue overalls, taking Evan and I out on our bikes. Scolding us for stealing his cigarettes with a sly smile that told us he wasn’t really mad. Evan’s mom—Theresa—in her grocery store uniform, making us pancakes at the counter before school. That whole world usually feels like a dream. But right now, it’s so clear I could swear when I open my eyes I’ll find myself in my old room. Evan curled up beside me in an old hoodie. The PlayStation on pause and the light from the TV illuminating his face in a soft blue glow.
2
EVAN
Ilie in bed, listening to the sounds downstairs. People have been showing up with casseroles and other shit for days. You can’t even get to the kitchen sink for all the bowls and dishes covered in cellophane.
There’s a knock on the door and I cover my head with the blanket.
Stacie’s voice comes through the wood, quiet and uncertain. “Evan?”
“What?”
“Can I get in?”
I bristle. “No, go away.”
She hesitates. As soon as I hear her footsteps on the creaky floorboard, turning back down the hall, I pull the blanket off my head. “Alright.”
She opens the door, padding over to the bed in her bare feet. I pull the covers back for her to get in.
She takes up more space that I thought she would. Her cold feet touching my bare calves. When did she get so tall? It feels like I’ve been asleep for a long time and now I’veopened my eyes and the world around me has shifted while I wasn’t looking.
She lies on her back, looking up at my ceiling. The tack marks from when I had glow in the dark stars are still up there. Her eyes fill with tears and I clench my jaw.
“You gotta be brave,” I say. An uncomfortable feeling in my chest tells me I’m not doing the right thing, that I should let her cry and hug her. But I can’t. If I do, I might break down and I can’t let myself break down.
The muscle in her cheek tenses as she tries to hold back the tears.
I think about telling her,It’s what Daddy would have wanted,but I can’t even form the fucking words.
Stacie wipes her eyes and I tell myself,If she can suck it up, so can I.
I make her get up before Ma can come and ask to get in with us. I don’t think I can handle her crying in my bed, too.
Ma’s sitting at the kitchen table, dressed, but without makeup on and her hair uncombed. There’s something about that half-done thing that makes it worse than if she’d been sitting there in her housecoat and slippers. It’s like everything’s been turned on its head. Things are kind of right, but not really. And it’s that tiny ‘not really’ that stands out like a sore thumb.
I caught her making the sheets on the bed in the living room before she went to sleep last night and when I asked her why she was doing it, she just pretended she hadn’t heard me.
I keep my back to the living room now while I crack some eggs into a bowl to make an omelet for Stacie before she can break into the Pop-Tarts.
More visitors show up. They make a fuss over Stacie.Gloria from number 28 brings her a fucking Barbie, like she’s a third grader. Mrs. O’Conner from next door sits with Ma and tries to get her to eat something.
I manage to slip out when no one’s looking. The weight of that house shucks off my shoulders the further away I get.
