“Do you want to help or do you want to wait here?” I ask him.
“Wait here.”
“Okay.” I ruffle his hair and get up. I turn on the TV and adjust the antennae until the picture is mostly clear. I find a station with cartoons and smile at him. He smiles back.
I walk into the dingy kitchen and run the sink water until it gets hot and fill a pan to put on the stove. I turn it on to boil mac ’n’ cheese.
And when that’s done, I stand at the sink full of dirty dishes, cover my face, and cry.
CHAPTER FOUR
The night goes bytoo fast, and in the morning, I look across the classroom and find Retha leaning halfway over her desk, trying to get my attention. Her hair is tied into a high knot, her eye makeup heavier than usual.
I nod my chin, asking her what’s up.
“Cut,” she whispers loud enough for me to hear.
I snort a laugh, and next to me, Cameron grins at his notebook. Retha isn’t exactly subtle. I check on Mr. Jimenez and see he’s still writing line after line on the whiteboard. We’re supposed to take down his notes, but some of us are making plans to cut class, apparently.
“I can’t,” I mouth to Retha.
“After lunch.”
“No.”
“Then get a ride home,” she says out loud, obviously annoyed with me.
I widen my eyes at her. “You know I can’t,” I whisper harshly. “No money.”
“Savannah?” Mr. Jimenez calls, startling me.
I turn to him, apologetic, and he gives me one of those teacher glares that says, “I’m really disappointed.” Like I give a shit. “Sorry,” I tell him anyway.
I slide my notebook in front of me and grab my pencil to actually start working. There’s a chuckle from next to me, but I don’t look. Being called out is embarrassing. I could kill Retha.
***
Travis and Retha bail after lunch, leaving me behind. I can’t go with them—can’t use up my absences. There’d been an incident at Evan’s school earlier in the year where they needed me to come in. I’m allowed only ten absences at Brooks or they can fail me for attendance violation. And since repeating my senior year isn’t an option, I stay.
When the bell rings at the end of the day, I get up and grab my things, anxiety rising up because I know I’ll have to walk home. And I don’t live close. Not even remotely close. Luckily, Evan has speech therapy after school, so I’ll have an extra hour. I’ll just walk fast.
“Hey, Sutton,” Cameron says. I turn, surprised, and look at him.
“What?”
“You need a ride?” He’s gathering his books, not watching me. Good thing because I gulp.
“No. I’m fine,” I tell him.
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
He smiles and looks over, meeting my eyes. “I’m going that way,” he offers.
“No, you’re not,” I say. “You don’t even know where I live.”
“Then how do you know I’m not going that way?”
