There’s a knock on the door, and I want to scream at whoever’s on the other side to go away and leave me alone. Unless they can make this feeling of loss and hopelessness chasing through my veins go away, then I just want them to disappear.
Even though I don’t answer, my dad opens the door. I keep my eyes fixed on the screen. I’m tap, tap, tapping away, creating a chart to make things more efficient.
Dad clears his throat. “I’m sorry about Jack,” he says, his voice stilted. He never was any good at the emotional stuff. Since Mom died, the hugs disappeared. I know my dad loves me. But I also know he doesn’t show it through physical touch and sharing our feelings. Right now, I need my mom. I want to crawl into her lap and cry and rail that the world isn’t fair. I want her to pull me into her arms and rock me until I have no more tears left.
But I can’t have her back.
Just like I can’t have Jack back.
“Your mom was always better at this stuff than me,” Dad says.
“It’s fine,” I say. “It’ll be fine,” I correct myself. Because it has to be, doesn’t it? If I can get over the death of my mother, I can get over a man I’ve only known a few months.
Ihaveto be able to survive this.
“Heartbreak is a horrible thing,” he says, shoving his hands in his pockets. “But you’re doing the right thing by keeping busy.”
I can’t look at him. I just can’t. I know he’s never asked me to stay, but I’m here for him. And Bray.
I’ve given up so much.
Most of the time, I’d make the same choice over and over. But today? With the breakup with Jack so raw? I don’t want to be in this house with my brother and dad. I’ll probably still be here, living in my childhood bedroom, in twenty years. Hopefully any thoughts of the life I might have had outside this farm will have ebbed away. The memories of ballet and Jack will have faded into nothing.
“Do you mind if I just have some time by myself?” I manage to speak despite my throat tight with unwept tears.
“Yeah, no, of course,” Dad says awkwardly.
But as he’s leaving, Bray steps into the room. “Hey, this letter’s for you. I opened it by mistake. You finally graduated high school, did you?”
I glance up at Bray and snatch the paper from his hands. “Why are you opening my mail?” I snap indignantly. I don’t dare look at the paper. I don’t want to have a conversation about why I bothered getting my high school diploma. Bray and Dad aren’t going to understand.
“Hey!” Bray says. “I told you I opened it by mistake.”
“You didn’t need to read it.” I drop it on the bed next to me. They’ve already emailed me to tell me that I graduated. Why are they sending me stuff by snail mail? And why’s Bray being anasshole by opening my mail? He never gets mail. It’s not like he could have thought it was for him.
“Shouldn’t we celebrate?” he says. “It’s a pretty big deal, you finally getting through high school.”
I keep my head down, focused on the screen. Why is everyone in my bedroom? I left the living room to avoid people.
“Why didn’t you say that you were studying for your high school diploma?” Dad asks. Maybe I’m imagining it, but he sounds a little hurt.
I just shrug. “I did it on my own time. It didn’t stop me doing my job.” I know I sound defensive. I just can’t help it.
“That’s not what I meant, Iris. I’m your dad. We’re your family. Why didn’t you tell us? We could have…”
“What?” I ask, finally looking at Dad. There’s nothing he could have done. There’s nothing I need from him.
“Are you looking at going to college?” he asks.
Bray chuckles, and even I let out a cynical laugh.
“How on earth would I go to college?”
“I just never knew…” He trails off.
“Is that what you’re doing on the laptop?” Bray asks. “Studying?”
How is it that my brother never grew out of the immensely irritating stage? I spin my laptop around. “No, asshole, I’m working on spreadsheets to try and make the business more efficient so we can put food on the table, so can you just leave me alone.”
