Raven, Griffin, and me.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
RAVEN
“Can we have burgers every night?” Noah asks, but it’s muffled.
“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” I chide him.
“If you want,” Griffin answers Noah’s question, but that earns Griffin a punch in the arm from Knox.
I can’t lie, sitting around the table together is nice. It’s something I could easily get used to.
Knox said I’m not alone. I don’t want to get used to not being alone, but I can’t stop the warmth that spreads through my chest, easing the damage done by so many who came before.
After signing Noah out of school, Griffin steered us toward his truck. My keys are in my purse, which is still in the library and probably burned to a crisp. On our way to my house, Griffin pulled over and picked up dinner from Mystic River Grill. He and Knox thought ahead and ordered online while I got Noah.
Noah has asked questions about what happened, but I have no idea what to tell him. I don’t want to lie, but I’m not sure if he needs the full truth right now. He’s young, and he’s already seen too much of the dark and ugly the world has to offer.
I don’t want to revisit what happened in the library, but controlling the thoughts in my brain is difficult with how tired I am. The adrenaline has worn off and left me fatigued.
Seth’s face flashes in my mind. Trying to push the image away brings about the start of a headache. His whistles ring in my ears along with the ominous rhyme.
Seth said, “The girl got hit by a rock.” But Seth didn’t have rocks. He had grenades. Is the rock supposed to be a symbol, or did hethinkhe was throwing rocks at me?
Seth also said, “The madman threw the rock,” but then later, “The madman gave me the rock.” My first assumption is that Seth is the madman. But Seth didn’t give himself a rock. So does the madman change meaning at the end, or is the madman someone else the whole time?
I fucking suck at poetry.
Noah swallows his food. “Mom?”
“What? Oh. Umm.” I pretend to think through the question. “I don’t know if burgers and fries every night for dinner is a good idea.” I shake my head.
“Aww, man,” Noah complains, and takes another sip of his soda, passively. But when he sets his cup down, he places it on the side of his plate, something that makes my eye twitch.
Every time he does that, I swear on everything I own, he accidentally knocks his drink over. Then it’s a whole fiasco, complete with pouting and sometimes crying. So, to prevent the issue, I usually ask Noah to move his cup, or I just do it for him. And today, I decide to move it for him. But it doesn’t go unnoticed. Griffin and Knox watch me with puzzled looks on their faces.
“Knox, can you teach me how to drive my own motorcycle?” Noah blurts out.
Knox is thrown off guard. “Uhh…” And that is the way of kids.
“Noah…” I place my hand on his arm.
“Motorcycles aren’t just fun toys. They can be very dangerous. If you want to learn when you’re older, you’re going to have to talk to your mom about that.” Knox’s answer is perfect. He didn’t lie. He didn’t make promises that he might not be able to keep. And he didn’t brush off Noah.
They’re better with kids than they think.
“Mom?”
“Let me think that one over, little king.” I know my only experience on a motorcycle wasn’t pleasant. I might have enjoyed it if it weren’t for Jed being a total asshole.
“So, Noah, how’s school going?” Griffin asks. When Noah appears to shut down, Knox punches Griffin in the arm again.
“Fine,” he answers with his head down.
Griffin keeps going. “Do you have a best friend at school?”
Noah sinks further into himself. “No.”
