Then she hands the phone over, and I take another step further into the past.
Chapter Twelve
PRESLEY
BEFORE…
I awake to the sound of shouting.
It’s not entirely unheard of in our house. I do have three brothers. But as I blink open my eyes and sit up, I quickly realize the noise I hear from downstairs isn’t coming from my rowdy siblings.
It’s coming from adults.
I quickly hop out of bed and put on a pair of pajama pants and a hoodie. Grabbing my phone, I check the time.
It’s just after eight a.m. Who would show up this early—on a Saturday, no less—and cause such a scene?
Maybe one of my dad’s clients?
No. My dad wouldn’t put up with that, no matter who it was. He’d kick Mick Jagger himself to the curb if he showed up at his door and disturbed his family.
I pull open my bedroom door as the voices grow louder.
“Why don’t we all just go into the dining room and talk this over?” I hear my mom say.
“There’s nothing to talk over,” someone replies, and it takes me a second to recognize that distinctive voice. I’ve only heard it a few times, but my pulse starts to race at the sound. “I’m leaving town, and Hollis is coming with me. End of discussion.”
Hollis’s mom is here?
And she wants to take him away?
My heart plummets just as I hear a door close behind me. I turn to see him standing there with a bag slung over his shoulder, eyes filled with defeat.
“But he’s graduating in a month,” my mom pleads. “Surely you wouldn’t take him away from his friends and?—”
“He can graduate somewhere else,” she cuts her off. “Or not. It doesn’t really matter either way. Not like he’s going to college.”
Hollis visibly flinches. Despite her harsh words, he had been accepted to several colleges, and my parents were more than willing to pay his tuition, but he had been hesitant.
Had he known this was going to happen?
Or just feared it might?
I take a step toward him just as Hendrix rushes out of his room. “What the fuck is going on?” He rubs his tired eyes, hair sticking up everywhere, but he’s ready to do battle nonetheless.
“My mom is here.” His voice is soft and monotone.
“What do you mean?”
“I have to go,” he simply says.
Hendrix’s eyes shift from Hollis to me and then back again. I see the confusion and reluctance to accept what’s happening. “Okay. When will you be back?”
“I don’t think I’m coming back, Hen.”
He just shakes his head. “No.” Then he stalks toward the stairs. “Uh-uh. Not happening.”
“Hen!” Both of us run after him.
