I nod. That’s her no.
“Let’s go, Evan,” she says sweetly to him, taking his hand.
I watch them walk away together, and wave every time Evan turns back to me. Soon they’re in the car, driving down the street.
And I stand a little longer in front of my house, dying inside.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
I go inside thehouse, slam my bedroom door, and lie across my bed. Sobbing. Sick. Devastated.
At around five o’clock I hear my father at the front door. He must have run off so he wouldn’t be here when Kathy took Evan. Bastard. He didn’t even have the decency to say good-bye to his own son.
I jump up from my bed, hate burning inside me. There’s no need to be civil anymore. Evan is gone.
My father is muttering to himself before he notices me standing in the hallway. He closes the door, and when he turns, he finds me glaring at him. His eyes are red, and it pisses me off. He has no right to cry over my brother. He was the one who sent him away.
“Savannah—”
“I hate you,” I say in a low voice. “I should have run with him when I had the chance.”
My father looks at the floor, twitching his mouth. “Maybe you should have,” he says. “Or maybe you should have done like your mom and just left on your own.”
“It wasn’t his fault,” I say. “It was never Evan’s fault that Mom left.”
“It wasn’t his fault,” he agrees. “But it was because of him.”
“Don’t say that! It’s not true.”
“It’s true, Savannah,” he says. “If Evan was just normal, she’d still be here. Your mother would have never left me.”
“You asshole!” I yell. “It wasn’t Mom who blamed Evan. It was always you, you fucking drunk. You’re sick, you know,” I say, shaking my head. “And she would have left you no matter what. Because she hates you as much as I do!”
In a sudden movement, my father reaches to slap me hard across the face. I stagger back, stunned, my cheek on fire. I lift my eyes to meet his, too shocked to hit him back.
In that moment, I see his rage turn to sorrow as he covers his mouth with the same hand he hit me with. His eyes are wide and apologetic.
“Don’t . . .” I begin, and my voice cracks. “Don’t you ever fucking touch me again.”
“I’m sorry, Savannah. Please—”
I turn away, my entire body shaking. I go into my room and slam the door. I lock it, and then lean against it, trying to breathe.
He’s never hit me. Resented me, belittled me, but never slapped me.
I slide down my door until I hit the carpet. I feel worthless. I feel absolutely worthless. And although I just want to pack my shit and leave, I have nowhere to go. I’m in my worst version of hell.
***
The phone rings well into the night. I don’t get out of bed for it, and my father doesn’t pick it up either. It’s probably Retha; she must be worried sick. Or Cameron. But it’s not Evan—Kathy would never let him call. So I don’t answer.
At nine o’clock my father knocks on my door, asking if I’m going to have dinner. I tell him to drop dead. The sky outside is dark as I stand at the window, staring out. Cameron is probably thinking about me, maybe Kendra, too.
My arm aches, but I don’t take any pills because I want the pain. I want to feel the pain because it’s better to feel it in my arm than in my heart. And with that pain, I go to bed and go to sleep.
***
The morning is quiet. When I turn over, I see that school has already started. The phone rings—probably the attendance office. I never used my days, and they can’t fail me unless I miss ten days. I’d saved them for Evan. I don’t need them anymore. So I stay in bed.
