“Dad?” I choked out.
He looked over his shoulder toward me. “Yes?”
I wrapped my arms around my body, afraid to be vulnerable in front of him. “Thanks for letting Ash come over. It was fun.”
Dad smiled.
I couldn’t recall the last time he’d done that. It felt like such a foreign expression. One I didn’t know I missed so much until he did it right then and there.
“Good. I’m glad.” He paused and scratched at his beard that clearly needed a trim. “I don’t feel comfortable with you going to his house because you’re still groundedandI don’t want you at a boy’s house without supervision, but you can have him over whenever you please.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really.”
My heart beat a little faster that night. I wanted to hug him, but I didn’t.
“Good night, Karla,” Dad said before shutting off my light.
He was right about that, too, just as Ash had been when he said it earlier.
It was a good night.
***
The next day at school, a pack of Reese’s was on my desk. I smiled at Ash. He tipped his invisible hat my way. I sat in my seat and turned in his direction. “I know my favorite wordlet.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Do tell.”
“Butterflies.”
“Ah, yes. Butter flies. I approve of this choice.”
I turned to face forward and felt every single one of those butterflies, too. The next day when I sat at my desk, there was a folded piece of paper. I opened it and quietly chuckled to myself.
Ash had drawn a stick of butter with flies sitting all over it.
13Ash
I couldn’t stop thinking about Karla, which was nice because if I was thinking about her, then I wasn’t thinking about sad stuff as much.
We started hanging out a lot more. During our lunchtime, we’d eat and read. I read five books because of her. Before her, I didn’t read at all. I didn’t know the power of books, really. The only books I’d been used to were textbooks and books for English class, and those blew. But having Karla bring me into her favorite fictional worlds felt like a secret way to learn about who she was.
She loved thrillers and mysteries. Horror was her favorite, though.
Some of them gave me nightmares, while others didn’t even give me a chance to sleep, seeing as how they kept me up all night.
She told me the love stories were the ones that scared her the most.
I didn’t blame her. I’d never been in love, but it seemed like something that would be terrifying.
My parents used to be in love. They used to dance and sing and laugh. I didn’t know the last time I’d heard them laugh together. Maybe that was why I was afraid of love—because one day, it could just... stop. I wondered if their love stopped the day Rian’s heart stopped beating. Like a switch was shut off in both of their systems and love no longer lived there. Now I lived with two people who hardly looked at each other, whichmade me realize just how terrifying love could be. One day it’s there; the next, gone.
The other day, I heard Maa mention divorce to Dad. They didn’t know I was upstairs eavesdropping as knots in my stomach formed. Dad stared at her with his hands on his hips looking completely defeated. His silence felt like indifference, which felt like the opposite of love. Some might’ve said hate was the opposite, but indifference felt even worse to me. Hate was passionate at times, in the same way that love could be. Indifference was... numb.
Sometimes I thought about how Rian would never fall in love. I struggled with those kinds of thoughts—the things that my brother would never experience. I hated that I’d achieve things he’d never have a chance to try. I also hated that I thought about those kinds of things, because it made my mind feel heavy. I was exhausted by my thoughts every single day.
Anyway, more thinking about Karla, less about Rian...
