The door opens, and I smile when Cameron walks in with Evan riding on his back.
“Good morning,” Cameron says as if it is completely normal that I’m sleeping in his bed. “Your brother wanted to see you.” He brings him to the bed and then turns around, letting him slide off.
“You’re awake!” Evan calls excitedly. I hold my cast up, and Evan climbs up my body to give me a hug.
“What’s that?” he says, pointing at the white plaster.
“A cast.” It embarrasses me to say it, but I try to smile so he won’t know that I should be ashamed. Cameron watches me, his arms folded across his chest. I hate that he saw me cry yesterday.
“Why do you have it?” Evan asks.
“I hurt my wrist.”
“Your friend hurt you,” my brother whispers, running his fingers over the cast.
I swallow hard.
“He isn’t her friend,” Cameron says, not looking at me. “Friends look out for each other.”
“Like Retha?” he asks.
“Yeah. And like me.” Cameron reaches to ruffle Evan’s hair. “I gave you a piggyback ride, remember?”
Evan laughs. Cameron looks at me, thoughtfully, apologetically—I’m not sure. But I quickly wonder how pathetic I must look to him. In his bed, bruised, bandaged. An emotional mess.
“Your eye looks better,” he says. “Are you hungry?”
I shake my head, and he scrunches up his face like he knows I’m a liar. “Evan,” he calls. “Let’s get Savannah some breakfast. She’s being stubborn.”
“Stubborn,” Evan repeats, and giggles. He hops off the bed and grabs Cameron’s hand, pulling him toward the kitchen.
When they’re gone, I lie back against the pillows. This should be my life. Being with my brother in a big house, eating pancakes. Why is life so damn unfair? Because by the end of the day . . . I’ll have nothing left.
***
“Do you want me to come with you?” Cameron asks as he walks me to my dad’s truck. I shake my head no. I wouldn’t even have Retha do this with me. It’s my nightmare—no one should have to go through it.
Evan walks behind us, carrying a bag of things Kendra gave him. Snacks, crayons, coloring books—he thinks he’s so lucky. He doesn’t realize that kids normally get things like this. Kids without asshole parents.
Cameron opens the door for Evan and stands with me as he climbs in. He lowers his head. “Let me come with you,” he says quietly.
He’s not hiding his feelings for me anymore, but I have to. We don’t work. We can never work. I’m a disaster of a person.
“No,” I say.
He nods, and then leans in the window toward Evan. “I’ll see you around, little dude.” He reaches in his fist and Evan bumps it with his; then they make them explode. Cameron must have taught him that, and it’s incredibly cute.
Cameron takes a step back and turns to me. He wants to touch me, hold me, hug me. I can see it in his eyes. But he doesn’t.
“Will you call me?” he asks.
“No,” I say, and smile.
“So you’ll just show up? Unannounced?”
“Probably.”
“Okay.”
