“He has me. I’m his home.”
She blinks, seeming moved by my statement. Maybe even ashamed. But I won’t let her trick me into giving up custody of my brother. Getting a lawyer, knowing I couldn’t afford to do the same . . . I have no trust in her anymore. She’s a judgmental bitch. And she’s not getting Evan.
“You can’t see him anymore,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest.
Kathy’s eyes flash with anger, but she quickly pulls it back. “Legally,” she says, “you can’t make that call, Savannah.” She lets the words soak in, demolishing my argument.
“Now,” she says, sounding confident. “I’ll be here on Thursday. Tell Evan I said good night.” She knows she’s right—my opinion wouldn’t hold up in court. I would need my father to side with me, and he isn’t exactly listening anymore.
When I get back inside, I find Evan and our dad in the living room. Evan is going on about the dentist, how scary it was but how the dentist told him he had smiling eyes. My father laughs a little, and I feel myself flinch, like somehow, I expect him to always be awful. At this point, it’s harder when he’s not.
I wait, my shoulder against the doorway, for them to finish talking. I haven’t seen Evan in four days, and I’m anxious to have him with me again. But I give them this moment.
When Evan is done with the story, I wave him over to me and hug him. Our father goes out to the driveway to work on his truck.
“I hated this weekend without you,” I tell Evan, gathering him up in my arms. “You know how boring and dumb Dad can be.” Evan laughs, that sort of infectious laugh that brightens any room. “Did you have fun at Aunt Kathy’s?” I ask, bringing him to sit on the couch. I wonder if he talked to the lawyer too, if my aunt involved him at all. But he doesn’t mention it, and my brother can’t lie.
“Murdock licked my face,” Evan says, widening his eyes as he gets ready to delve into every pointless detail. My aunt’s dog, Murdock, is a big, white beast of an animal. I used to love playing with him. But now I’m jealous because although I want Evan to have fun—want it more than anything—I wish it could be with me. I wish I didn’t have to work so hard just to have simple moments like this. “He’s a good boy.” Evan sounds just like our uncle Donavon. “But Murdock can’t have broccoli.” I imagine my brother fed him his share of vegetables whenever he could.
I sit on the couch and listen as Evan tells me the rest of his weekend adventures, which include a trip to the mall for new sneakers and a movie. I’ve never heard of the cartoon he saw, and for that matter, I can’t even remember the last time I went to a movie; I was probably with Patrick.
When my brother is done, I ask him to take out his homework. The assignments are modified so he can supposedly complete them on his own, but he never can. I help him with the worksheet, and at bedtime, when Evan comes to snuggle up in my bed, I brush his too-long hair and read him a story—same story every time. He listens, quiet and sweet. Just before he drifts off, leaving me to carry him back to his room, he whispers that he loves me. And I tell him that I love him too.
CHAPTER TEN
“I can’t believe youwent to Cameron Ramsey’s house,” Retha says, looking back at me from the front seat. The sun is shining bright this morning, and it’s almost enough to make me feel hopeful. “But really,” she says, “the bigger crime here is that you didn’t jump his sexy-ass bones.”
“Do you actually mean the things you say?” I ask her, smiling sweetly.
“Absolutely. He’s hot, Savvy.”
“Hey,” Travis says, taking his eyes off the road to look at her.
“Aw . . . I’m sorry, baby.” She leans over and pecks his lips. “I mean he’s hot for Savvy’s standards.”
“Right,” Travis says. We all know that Cameron’s hot by anyone’s standards. But when Travis glances back at me to grin, I notice the dark circles and pale skin. I’d hoped a day away would have cleared things up a little. Instead, he looks worse.
“So, um . . .” I start. “How did it go yesterday?”
Retha looks at Travis, and then turns toward the window. I feel the air thicken in the car. “Bad,” she says quietly.
I’m not sure if she means the hearing or if Travis got high. Possibly both. Retha and I tell each other nearly everything, but when it comes to Travis’s addiction . . . neither of us is entirely upfront. But I’m sick of being left out of this conversation.
“Are you using again?” I ask Travis, meeting his eyes in the mirror. I feel Retha turn to me, probably surprised that I’d just come out and ask.
Travis swallows hard and shakes his head. “Don’t turn this into an NA meeting, Savannah,” he says. “I’m just in a shitty mood. My dad’s coming home this week.” He pauses and stares out the windshield. “Ain’t the justice system grand?”
“Travis, I—”
“I’m good,” he says. “I promise.”
He glances back at me and smiles. But my face stings. He promised last time too. Exact words. There’s a chill down my back as Travis focuses on driving. I look at his arms, but they’re covered with long sleeves. I swallow down my fear and wait for my heart to slow. I wait for denial to kick in.
By the time we pull into the school lot, the three of us are joking again—even if it’s hollow. Retha schemes how to hook me up with Cameron. Now that she knows why he’s at Brooks, minus the personal details, she likes him that much more. He’s one of us.
Retha can barely contain her excitement as we walk into class. “And you know I’m going to that party with you,” she says, weaving her head like I’m about to fight her on the issue. But I’m glad she’ll be there with me. I mean . . . if I go at all.
Travis doesn’t say much and heads straight to his desk. I watch after him, and then I notice that Cameron isn’t here. I wonder where he is.
