6
BECKETT
Age 15
“Uh, Riley, what is that?” I asked, staring down at my arm.
He stopped what he was doing, then blinked a few times before giving me a sheepish look. “I have no idea.”
I arched a brow. “You got lost again, didn’t you?”
“Sorry,” he mumbled with a grin. “It kind of looks like an alligator, though. Here, let me fix it. Hand me the green.”
I laughed, rolling to my side for the bag with washable markers.
“Oh, gross! Your back is all covered in sweat!” Riley complained.
“Well, it is like a billion degrees out.”
He shoved my shoulder. “Only I get to complain about the heat. It was your idea to come here.”
I tore my sweat-covered shirt off and tossed it at him. He shrieked and tossed it back, which I in turn tucked under my head for a pillow. We both laughed, then Riley got us cold sodas from the small cooler.
We were sitting in the tree house we’d found by accident when we went too far off the Henrys’ property one day. It was built between three of the strongest branches in a huge oak tree that rested on the edge of two properties. Several of the branches were cut away, providing a clear view of the sky through the windows. We had asked around when we first found it and neither of the families whose property it rested on said they cared if we used it. In the four months we’d been coming here, we hadn’t seen another soul come by. It was quickly becoming our sanctuary.
Riley was sitting cross-legged next to me in nothing more than his shorts. His skin was damp with sweat and cheeks flushed, so I knew he was just as hot as I was, but neither of us were ready to go yet. Besides, I needed this and I think Riley knew that.
We were quiet for a time, each lost in our own thoughts. Riley gave up on the alligator and started doodling on my bicep instead. Drawing on me was just something Riley did now. He’d asked me once when we were watching a movie if he could draw on my scar. I thought it was strange at first, but after seeing what he could do with something so ugly, I never stopped him again. It was oddly relaxing for both of us, something we only did when we were alone. Kind of our “thing,” I guess. Do all best friends have their own “things” or just us? I wasn’t sure. I’d never had a best friend before Riley.
It was a long time before I had the courage to tell him what I needed to.
“Mom failed her test again.”
Riley immediately locked eyes with me, pausing mid-stroke with the marker. We were only fifteen and twelve, but we both understood how serious that was. As foster kids, you just knew that kind of stuff, even when you shouldn’t. I didn’t have the guts to tell him how much it hurt, though. How much it ripped me apart that my own mom would choose drugs over me. Again. She’d already served one year in jail for selling drugs and had to pass several random drug tests to be granted custody of me again. She failed the first one two months ago, and now the second, which meant she had one more chance to get it right. Only one. If she failed the next test, her parental rights would be permanently taken away.
“Guess that means we still get to live together,” I said with a small smile, trying to lighten the moment.
“Beckett, don’t,” he said softly. He didn’t smile or look away from me, not even for a second. He dropped the marker and leaned over to hug me with both arms. Sticky, sweaty bodies and all. It was the only thing that eased the crushing amount of pain I’d been feeling since Tracy told me, even more than the ink on my arm.
Riley didn’t judge me when I finally let the tears fall or try to fill me with empty promises that things would get better, because we both knew they might not. He just held me until I somehow pieced myself back together again. When he pulled away, he asked me to roll over and began drawing on my back. Every line he placed on my skin, seemed to link us together somehow, giving me strength to face tomorrow. I knew that whatever happened now, at least Riley would be there.
***
At 6:30PM, I made my way down the path to the same table we sat at earlier. I was slightly surprised to see Riley already sitting there, hunched over in a thin blue sweatshirt. There was a slight breeze in the air, but it wasn’t cool by any means. I approached from around the front before speaking, so I wouldn’t startle him.
“Hey.”
He jumped anyway. “Oh, hey.”
“You’re early,” I said.
“Um, yeah. I got done early and decided to just come here.” Something in his voice made me think he’d been waiting for a while. Did he think I wouldn’t show?
He stood and led the way along a path to where a few street vendors lined the road.
“So, you seem pretty close with Amelia. Is she an ex-girlfriend or something?” I asked, trying to sound casual. I knew she had recently been dating Michael, but that didn’t mean she and Riley didn’t have their own history.
He belted out a laugh. “Um, no. Just a good friend. We’ve known each other a while.”
