“Sure,” I said, realizing I remained quiet too long. I padded to the door and opened it, my breath catching in my throat at the way she looked. It wasn’t her outfit, which was a T-shirt and cut-off shorts. It was the slumped shoulders and the way she wrung her fingers together.
Like she was scared of meagain.
She took a breath, met my eyes, and drew her brows together. “I know you won’t allow visitors, but my brother has been asking the last two days to stop by. I told him about the stairs, and he’s obsessed about making sure they’re okay. It can be when you’re gone or something. I just… want to respect your rules, but I’d like if he could stop by.”
Christ. I ran my hand over the back of my neck, squeezing it and hating myself a little bit. “Yeah. Of course he can.”
“Great.” She smiled her toothy grin, and warmth spread across her face. “Thank you. He’s a pain in the ass, but I love him. Also, the twins will probably come with. You know how tight they are.” She brushed her hair behind her ears. “Is there a time that works? I know tomorrow is for reading, so maybe tonight? Or tomorrow during the afternoon?”
“Whenever, Ryann. Don’t make it about my schedule,” I said, my voice a little rough.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” I said, unable to stop looking at her face. The freckles, the eyes so blue they matched the summer sky, the full lips that tasted like icing when mine touched hers for a half a second.Thiswas why I avoided her. This pull to her. “You started at the café officially, right?”
“Yup.” She moved on from our conversation and went back to the kitchen table where her school materials covered the tabletop. Her hair was in two braids, each ending on either side of her face. She sucked her lip into her mouth and frowned when I approached. “Oh, are you coming out here? I can go back into my room.”
“What? No. You can… you can stay.”
“But how will you avoid me then?”
Oh god.
Her words weren’t laced with venom. If anything, the soft voice made it worse. Death by a thousand papercuts. “Ryann,” I said, gulping as my throat got too tight to speak. How did I communicate my thoughts to her? “It’s not… I’m not…fuck.” I closed my eyes as shame consumed me.
“You’re right.” I met her gaze and expected her to be mad, victorious, or gloating even as I admitted the truth. But instead, she pressed her lips together, and the blue of her eyes dulled.
Her disappointment was the worst feeling. I sighed and sat in the chair opposite her, trying to figure out the right play. Did I admit everything? Yes. I hated lies.
But I didn’t get a chance to explain that avoiding her was safer for both of us.
My phone buzzed,Momflashing across the screen over and over. My pulse raced in my ears, and I had to fight for each pull of oxygen into my lungs. I froze, unable to silence the phone since I was incapable of reaching for it.
She’s calling. It’s happening.
Rage and hurt and fear coiled inside my body, flashes of my dad’s face damn near paralyzing me. It wasn’t until Ryann said my name, soft and hesitant that I snapped to the present.
“Jonah, hey, you okay?”
Was I?
No. Not at all.
“My dad warned me she would call,” I said, my voice flat and void of emotion. “It shouldn’t be a surprise, but it’s like someone punched me in the gut.”
“You’re allowed to feel that way.” Ryann chewed on her lip and hesitated before putting her small, soft hand on mine. “I’m trying to read your mood. Do you want to talk about it? Want to suffer in silence?”
“I don’t know.”
I stared at the phone, all the things I wanted to say to Mom blurring in my mind. I hated what she did to me, to my dad, and the fact she didn’t care about our feelings. I hated her. My jaw ached from grinding my teeth, and I pushed out of the chair, desperate for something to do when it buzzed again.
My gaze flew to Ryann’s, her big blue eyes wide and filled with concern. She jutted her chin to the phone and spoke in a soft, tentative voice. “I think you should answer.”
Maybe that’s what I needed. Someone to tell me what to do so I didn’t have to make the choice. She nodded, and I reached out, hit answer, and waited.
“Jonah, hi,” my mom’s voice came through on the speakerphone, the familiar sound sending bolts of pain through my chest. How dare she sound the same? Was her life peachy without us?
“W-why,” I started, emotion clogging my every word. I cleared my throat, not caring if she could hear my reaction to her. “Why are you calling me?”
