“Yeah?” I ask, not really listening.
“We’re going to come there for Christmas.”
“Where?”
“There. Sprucevale.”
“Oh,” I say, fishing my keys from my pocket. I point my key at the car and hit the button, because everyone knows thedoor won’t unlock if you don’t point the key. It’s science. “Wait. What?”
“We’ll come to Sprucevale for Christmas,” she says patiently.
“For Christmas?”
“Honey, are you all right?”
“Um,” I say, and the answer isnot reallybecause it’s dark and cold and I’m tired and my brain feels like several wind-up toys at once, all clanging their cymbals and marching in different directions. “Where…in Sprucevale?”
“Well, I was thinking your house, since you’re my son who lives in Sprucevale,” she says, and okay, I deserve that. “But if we’re not welcome?—”
“Of course you’re welcome,” I blurt automatically, starting my car and turning on the heat. “I was just surprised.”
“That way you don’t have to worry about taking off work for the travel time,” she says. “Thalia and Caleb can see both families, and Gerald has never been to Sprucevale. I told him that you’d be happy to show him and Madeline around all the interesting graveyards.”
I take a deep breath and flex my fingers on the steering wheel. “Madeline’s coming?”
“She’s interested, and she has that whole week off of work,” my mom says. “Don’t you think it’ll be nice to spend Christmas together as a family?”
“Yeah, definitely,” I say,as a familyringing in my head. “Really nice.” Family!
“Now, I know cooking for a group at a holiday isn’t necessarily your strong suit, so I think we’ll drive up the twenty-third and we can spend Christmas Eve cooking so you’re not too stressed. Oh, or if we come the twenty-second, you and your brother and sister could help me make tamales, though I don’t know if you’ve got the right kitchen setup…”
I zone out and start thinking about my apartment. Madeline’s seen it a little bit on FaceTime, but she’s neverbeenthere, and it’s not nearly as nice as her place. There are still car parts in one corner, and a half-finished mosaic that I’m slowly making from broken thrift store plates, and my couches don’t match and the table is questionable at best, and I’ve still got that stolen Lost Mountain Motor Lodge sign leaning against one wall. I thought it was cool when I acquired it, but it’s probably kind of gross, right? She’s going to take one look and wonder why I stole something weird from the trash?—
“…if that’s all right with you,” my mom is saying, and I make an agreeing noise. What did I agree to? I have no idea, but it probably pales in comparison to the fact that Madeline is going to beinmyapartment. “I’ll let you go—I’m sure you’ve got something important to do. We’ll plan more soon.”
“Yeah,” I manage to say, and we hang up, and I spend a while blinking at the building in front of me.
Javier:Guys I gotta postpone tonight
Wyatt:Disagree
Gideon:Why?
Javier:This final project is due Thursday and I have to work all day tomorrow and it’s not done yet and I’m freaking out
Wyatt:Dude, you have to eat
Javier:I’m not sure that’s true
Wyatt:Your body actually needs more than coffee to continue working properly
Javier:Yes, no shit, thank you for your medical expertise. “Humans cannot survive on coffee alone,” groundbreaking
I putmy phone face down on the table and stalk into the kitchen, open the fridge, and stare into it. I’ve got eggs, a container of spaghetti sauce, some green onions, and about fifteen jars of things. Lettuce, cheese, and the fancy-pants coconut creamer I like in my coffee. Nothing very inspiring, and all of it too hard to make into actual food. So I dig through my pantry until I find a jar of peanut butter and eat a spoonful.
When I come back to my phone, everyone has left me on read. Shit. It rings before I can feel bad about being a dick to Wyatt.
“Javi,” Silas says, and it sounds like he’s driving. “What have you consumed todaybesidescoffee?”
