He nods. “Yeah.”
I nod too. “Remember… stick-it power.” I smile at him. “It’s you and me, Si.”
A soft smile forms on his lips as well. “You and me, Vi.”
I watch as he pedals down the road towards his house at the far end of the farm, and the tractor eases to a stop just as Silas disappears into his driveway.
It’s always been us.
And I know it always will be.
THREE
WE WERE FOURTEEN YEARS OLD
My boots crunch upthe freshly shovelled steps of the back deck, which is already gathering a new layer. The snow is steadily coming down, and while the flakes aren’t heavy, they’re persistent. I know I’ll be back out here again in the morning, so I lean the shovel against the door and glance up at the dark sky. The moon highlights the white flakes gently falling to cover the earth, and if it wasn’t so pretty, I’d be mad at it.
Warmth hits my cheeks as I step inside and shut the door behind me, and I take a big breath in as I smell supper cooking. But before I can unzip my jacket, my parents’ voices drifting from the kitchen make me pause.
“I can’t keep doing this, Scott.” Mom’s voice sounds teary, with an edge of anger. “I’m tired. And I feel completely useless.”
A heavy sigh from Dad answers her, and I stay as still as I can. They don’t fight in front of me. But I’ve heard enough through closed doors and quiet silences to know they have been. And lately, it’s been a lot.
“You’re not useless,” Dad says, then sighs again. “You know what he needs?—”
“Don’t,” Mom cuts him off. “If you’re about to tell me I need to try harder, just stop.”
Heavy silence fills the air, and I hold my breath.
“You have no idea how hard it is,” Mom says so quietly I almost don’t hear her.
“I do,” Dad replies, but the tightness in his voice makes it sound like he’s saying it for the tenth time just today.
“No, you don’t,” Mom snaps. “He got intoanotherfight at school today. And I’m always the one who has to drop everything and go in to handle it. I want to work more than part time. But I can’t. He’s a full-time job.”
My heart thrashes as my muscles tighten, and I try to ignore the hot burn at the back of my eyes.
I didn’t want to get into a fight. I tried to stop it.
But Ashton kept bugging me. Every class, every day, he mutters behind me that I’m stupid, that I only pass because I get help, and that they shouldn’t let me out of the learning centre. I tried to ignore him, like everyone tells me to. But he just. Kept.Going.
Next thing I knew, I had him pinned to the ground with my fists flying. I tried so hard not to… but my body just took over, like it usually does.
“I’m sotired,” Mom says, her voice catching. “I’m always the bad guy. I’m the one picking him up from school after every suspension, explaining things to teachers, arranging therapy, and trying to get ahead of the next blow-up. I just want one normal day.Oneday with a son who…”
She doesn’t finish the sentence as she trails off with a sniff.
My vision blurs, and I blink hard to clear it.
“And at home, I feel like all of his anger is aimed at me,” she continues. “The second I try to talk to him, he blows up.”
“That’s because you get mad,” Dad says.
“Well, Iammad!” she yells, and I flinch.
“I don’t know what to do anymore!” she continues, and I hear something drop on the counter and footsteps pace the kitchen. “We got him tested, we got the learning disability diagnosis, we got him trauma therapy and supports in place at school. But it’s still the same. Every year. It’s like nothing changes. He still lashes out over the smallest things. He still shuts me out. And it’s alwaysme. He never hit you when he was little. He never screamed at you, never ran away fromyou.Iget all of it.” She pulls in a shaky breath. “I know it’s not his fault. I know he’s hurting… but I can’t keep being the one who absorbs it. I was hoping he’d grow out of it, but now it’s just… different. And in a way, it’s worse. And I can’t do this alone. I need more from you, Scott.”
A tear falls down my cheek, and I quickly lift my hand to wipe it away.
