Текст книги "Freeing Carter"

Автор книги: Nyrae Dawn

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Текущая страница: 4 (всего у книги 12 страниц)

Mom steps closer, close enough I smell her vanilla perfume. "Oh my God. " Mom's voice shakes. "Before you came yesterday, I got busy with a customer and Kira sat with Sara. I heard them talking and she asked Sara what her favorite things were and she said Barney and her brother. She did an amazing job on it, didn't she?"

I'm embarrassed to admit, there's something in my throat keeping me from speaking. I can't stop looking at the picture. I can't stop concentrating on how I feel. Good. Good like I haven't felt in a long time. Better than I did at practice. Better than I do with Mel. Which is stupid and makes me feel like sort of a wuss, but yeah...this girl drew me. Perfectly. And my sister... Who knew I ranked up there with the purple dinosaur?

"Mine!" Sara yanks the picture out of my hand and runs away. I'm still in a frozen state that I've never experienced before.

Mom sighs. "So much energy. I'm never going to get her to bed tonight." She pats my cheek and follows after Sara.

I need air. Need to play ball.

The whole time I'm running and jumping and shooting in my driveway, I think about Kira. About Mel and Trav and Trina. I ignore the sweat in my eyes and play harder, clearing my head. Maybe Travis is right. I'm not feeling it with Mel anymore. I haven't for a while. Being honest, I'm not sure she has, either.

Not saying I like Kira either. Really, I don't even know the girl; she's strange compared to other girls I know, but I like how she makes me feel. Mel used to help me feel better and now...now she makes me feel worse. Plus with Mom, Sara, basketball, and English, I have enough on my plate and hate having the gnawing feeling in my gut that Mel's off flirting with other guys. I think it might finally be time to let one of my stress-factors go.

My stomach growls, reminding me I didn't eat dinner. Putting my ball under my arm, I head back inside. The house is quiet. There are three pieces of pizza on a plate for me. After warming them up, I head upstairs. One peek in Sara's room shows me she's asleep, the picture of me and Barney in her hand.

Before going to my room, I stop by Mom's to tell her goodnight. After a quiet knock, I push her door open and freeze. She's coming out of the closet, a glass in her hand. A full glass, and I know exactly what's in it.

All my muscles pinch. My heart thumps so hard it hurts. Or maybe it's her; maybe she's putting the ache in my chest and not the organ.

Sara's here. My little fucking sister who has nightmares and needs help when she gets up to go to the bathroom is in her room sleeping and Mom's going to drink. It might be because of Grandpa or maybe it's me, because I don't keep my mouth shut about him, but it doesn't matter. Suddenly I'm pissed. So pissed I want to scream at her to stop. Ask her what the hell she's doing. She doesn't drink when Sara's home! That's always been what made it manageable. That's the way things go. The way they've gone since Bill left and she started to drink. Who said she could switch up the rules?

Her eyes don't leave mine and mine hers. She knows she's been caught. My plate shakes in my hand, but I can't speak. What if Sara has one of her nightmares and Mom is drunk? What if Sara needs her and she's too out of it to know? How can she do this? What am I going to do now?

Without a word, I turn and walk out of the room. Tossing the plate on my desk, I fall into my chair knowing I won't sleep tonight. Knowing I have to listen for her. Sara wouldn't know what's going on if she catches Mom stumbling around, but I'm her brother—I'm one of Sara's favorite things and I'll be damned if I'll let her see Mom like that, whether she understands or not.

 

Chapter Six

There are a few clues to look for when you're curious how much someone drank. Now these aren't foolproof, but I pay attention to them anyway. They can help judge how the night was, how your day's going to be...how upset you need to be.

One of them makes my day hell because it calls for a whole lot of caffeine and video games all night to stay awake. How late does the light slide out from the under the other door at night? Does the TV stay on all night or go off at some time? In other words, do they pass out or actually go to bed. This is a pretty good indicator, but let me tell ya, sucks for the school day. Staying up at night, watching someone's door, isn't high on my list of things I like to do. Been there, done that, had the messy-morning hair to piss Mel off to show for it.

The other one is how early do they wake up? Late? The last minute before they're going to be late, or bright and early, whistling at the coffee pot and setting out the Cookie Crunch?

The TV went out last night...the light only on for a couple hours after we parted, but this morning—this morning she's up late. Hangover or guilt? I'm not sure. I'll have to wait until I see her to know.

You can always tell how much someone drank the night before by how they wake up. Out of it? Eyes kind of swollen? Sluggish like they didn't get any sleep or they're sick? There are even those times where you can tell the difference in speech. There's still that slight slur that says it hasn't even worn off yet.

I'm still waiting to see Mom firsthand to know how today is. Sara's been in and out of Mom's room a couple times. She's dressed and all that so I'm hoping it's guilt that keeps her behind her bedroom door. That she just doesn't want to see me because she knows how wrong she is. Knows she needs help, and is thinking about how to come down and tell me she's getting it.

Okay, so lack of sleep made me delusional, but a guy can hope.

Pushing away what should be my chocolate chip reward for keeping my eyes open all night, I lean my head into my hands.

Maybe she should feel guilty, but I should too.

For the ten thousandth time since last night I wonder, am I doing the right thing? I can deal with it. When it just affects me, who cares? I can take care of myself, but Sara? I won't let her see it. There's no way I can risk her. That never became a possibility until last night.

Guilt slams into those thoughts. This is Mom. Didn't I just tell Bill she'd never let anything happen to Sara? That she'd always take care of her and that she'd never get hurt? Is it that easy for me to turn my back on Mom? Maybe it wasn't what I thought. Maybe she realizes how wrong she was and it will never happen again. What kind of son jumps to conclusions like this the first time?

"Barney! Barney!" Sara slides into the kitchen, her sock-covered feet skidding on the floor. She's out the other side before I have the chance to say anything to her and the TV is on. She can work a TV and DVD player like nobody's business.

A second later Mom walks into the kitchen. I try to ignore her, not sure what to say, but I keep seeing that glass. Her stepping out of the closet, knowing Sara's asleep in the next room.

I'm not sad anymore. The guilt is gone, replaced by heat. Anger. How could she pick that bottle over Sara?

Suddenly, I don't want to study her. Don't want to see her eyes, or hear her speak. I just want out. To escape it and pretend everything is okay.

Done with my soggy cookies, I push to my feet and head for the kitchen door. Little mini-eruptions go off inside me, readying me for the big one I know is coming.

"I'm sorry."

Her words make me freeze in the kitchen door. We've never talked about it this way before. She didn't even mention what she's sorry for, but I know and there have never been apologies before. Usually it's something we pretend doesn't exist.

"It was a hard day. Your grandpa was angry...and..."

My hands clench. I hate him. Hate him for what he's done to her.

"But that's not an excuse. I'm sorry, Carter. It won't happen again."

I don't turn around to look at her. The sigh that comes from her tells me she's glad I didn't walk out. I'm glad too because I hear it in her voice. The hurt and fear would break me if I saw it in her eyes.

I'm sorry...

It won't happen again...

Those words wipe out the explosions inside me. Sober apologies are real. I know it. They have to be. She wouldn't lie about something like this. Would she? No...No, this is Mom and she wouldn't lie about something this important. Not to me.

Suddenly, I can breathe. I didn't even know I couldn't before. But it's going to be okay now because she said it won't happen again. "It's okay, Ma... It's okay."

I risk a quick glance at Mom before I walk out, feeling lighter than I have with her in a while.

My truck purrs to life when I start it. I have a ton of finished homework in my bag, and practice tonight. I'm determined today's going to be a kickass day. Okay, maybe that's stretching it, but a good day. A normal day.

I need normal, no drama.

Mel pops into my head, our arguments and what I'd decided to do last night.

Or what I think I'd decided. But were things really as bad as I was thinking last night? I mean, thirty minutes ago I was freaking out about Mom and now I'm suddenly sunshine and rainbows or something. Maybe things with Mel will get better too.

Or maybe I'm being too weak to risk the wrath of ending it. Is it wrong trying to hang on to the calm—the hope that for once everything really might be okay?

It's not until I get to school that I start to wonder... Did Mom mean it will never happen again, or just not when Sara's home?

***

We decide to go out to lunch today. Mel's driving with me in the passenger seat. Trina and Travis are in the back, sitting way too far apart from each other. Well, as far away as you can get in a Bug, that is. Her arms are crossed, obviously mad about something while Trav drums on his legs to non-existent music.

"What's with everyone today? Someone kick your puppy?" I reach over and put my hand on Mel's leg. It feels different. I've been touching this girl's leg for a year. Makes no sense that it would somehow feel different now. And not in a good way either.

"I'm in a good mood," I say, squeezing her leg. "You are too, aren't you, baby?" Liar, liar pants on fire. For a second I wonder if Mel will pick up on it the way Kira did. If suddenly I'm not a good liar anymore and she's going to call me on it. Tell me I'm fake, but she only looks over and smiles.

"I'm always in a good mood. I have a notebook in the glove box. Can you grab it?" she asks. I put it on her lap, but don't put my hand back, feeling wrong all of a sudden.

Lunch isn't long enough to eat there, so we grab our food to go. I drive Mel's car back so she can eat easier, picking at my own fries as we go. The car is way more silent than it should be, which gives thoughts and memories time to jump around in my head. So don't feel like going there. I'm determined to make this day, hell, all the days after it too, into something better than they've been.

"So, you guys want to do something this weekend? Maybe for the night? I'm sure I can pull the staying-at Travis's-card." It's then the genius of my mind strikes me. This is the perfect plan. I'm feeling a little weird about what happened with Mom anyway. Sara's going to be with Bill. Maybe it will help me and Mel, and Travis and Trina at the same time.

"Can't," Travis says. At the same time, Mel and Trina speak up about some cheer sleepover.

"What?" Anger starts to creep in. "Cheer sleepover? You guys have never done that before, have you?"

"Dude, let's plan a team night out!" Travis jumps into the conversation, but I'm still on the cheer thing.

"Mel, weren't you the one saying we never get to see each other?" Wow...I sound like a girl. What's wrong with me? Really, it's not even that I care. Do I?

I glance at Mel quickly, seeing if I feel that urge to touch her. Trying to figure out if it's really her I want to spend time with or if I'm a jerk who's using her because she gives me the sense of normal I crave.

"It's something new Trina and I came up with. We're captains this year and we really want to bring the team together." Mel's head is buried in a text on her cell. She looks up at me only to say, "Umm, careful. You're going to drip ketchup on my car."

So, Mel can't hang out. My body suddenly relaxes, and I pop the dripping fry in my mouth, not even realizing I'd been tense at the idea of spending time with her. It's like my body and brain are at war with each other. My head is telling me to do whatever I can to make this work because it fits. We fit. But my body? I'm just not sure I'm feeling it anymore.

When we get back to school, Trina and Mel go their way, and Trav and I head to English. It's not until we're almost there that I realize Mel didn't kiss me goodbye. Really, it's not a big deal, but for her it is. I mean, it wasn't too long ago Travis gave me shit about Mel and her leash.

"Is it weird that before we could hardly get two seconds to ourselves and now they want nothing to do with us?"

"Nope." Travis shakes his head. "It's normal. People grow...change...get antsy. I'm pretty sure there's an expiration date on all relationships."

I raise my eyebrows at him, wondering when he figured all this out. When he turned into Mr. Cynical all of a sudden. "And how close are we to ours?"

Travis pats me on the shoulder. "Just about expired, my friend." He turns and walks into class. In my head, I know he's right. I'm pretty sure we're past the expiration date, I'm just not man enough to clean out the fridge.

***

Mrs. Z's praise of my homework gives me a high that carries me to practice. Here, I don't need anything else but a ball in my hand and four teammates with me on the floor. When practice is over, Mel and Trina disappear to do whatever it is they're doing lately, leaving me and Trav on our own.

"Wanna do something? Tad's parents let him move into the room behind their house. People have been going there to chill and stuff. I've been a few times. It's crazy. He has a fridge full of beer in the closet and they don't even know!" Travis stands on the back of my truck.

Beer? Nope. Not feeling it. "When did you start chillin' with Tad?"

"When he started getting beer."

I laugh. "Nah, I'm going to head to the store. Mom wants me to help Kira." It pops out of my mouth without my meaning it to. Mom wanted me to help her yesterday, not today.

I start to walk toward the driver side when Travis says, "Ok. She's hot. I'll go with you."

My feet tangle and I stumble a little. Shaking it off, like I did it on purpose (which makes no sense. Who trips on purpose?), I look at him, trying to figure out why I'm annoyed while talking at the same time. "Dude, she's going to be working."

"Dude, who cares? I'm there with you. It's not going to interrupt her work if I'm looking...well, unless she's so into looking back she can't do her job." By now he's walked over to me, fist out and waiting for me to hit it. I swear I will my arm to do it, but the thing suddenly has a mind of its own and won't listen.

"I thought you were going to Tad's?" I keep digging myself a grave.

"Is there some reason you don't want me to go? I can go to Tad's later and I'm sure as shit not going home..."

Huh? "Why? What's up at home?" Travis has never talked like that.

"Nothing." He shakes it off. "Just boring. Plus I'm killing two birds with one stone here. A pretty girl first, then beer at Tad's. I like that plan."

"You have a girlfriend." Shut up, Carter. Close your mouth.

"And do you have a fever? What the hell's wrong with you?"

What the hell is wrong with me is right. "Get in the truck. I'm just giving you a hard time." I think.

***

Mom slips out of the store, mumbling something about errands and a quiet question of if I can help Kira if she needs it. My answer is just as quiet and mumbled, each of us treading the uncomfortable ground between us.

"Catch you later, Ms. Delilah. You're looking lovely today, by the way!" Travis calls after Mom, who rolls her eyes at him, before waving goodbye.

"Dude, why do you flirt with my mom?"

He shrugs. "She's hot. She's single"

"What the hell, Campbell!" I shove him. "Don't call my mom hot."

"Why? She is." Kira steps up beside us.

"Umm, no. She's really not. Again, she's my mom. Pretty sure that's against the law."

Trav puts his arm around Kira's shoulders. "She's on my side so I'm sticking with her. Why don't you enlighten us on why it's illegal?"

I suddenly want to punch my best friend in the face. Again. "Because she's old. Plus, it's against the guy code. Thou shall not covet your best friend's mom." Or put your arm around the pretty girl with the braids, even though I have no reason to care about that.

Kira laughs, steps out from under Travis's arm and touches my shoulder. "I think you're safe, Sleepy. I'm pretty sure your mom wouldn't go for him." She walks over to a stand of books and starts organizing. Grabbing his heart, Travis is right behind her.

"What? You don't think Ms. Delilah would go for me? I'm crushed. Well...she's not really my type either." Travis's eyebrows go up.

I stand back in awe, wondering when Travis got so much game. He's totally flirting with her and I'm stuck between wanting to give him props and kicking him out. I mean, it's harmless. Not the dissing-your-girlfriend flirting, so what's my deal?

"So, how's your girlfriend, Romeo?" Kira teases him.

Travis shakes his head. "Oh, I see how it is. I can take a hint. Travis isn't allowed to be nice because he has a girlfriend. Forget that said girlfriend has split personalities, liking him one minute and trying to kill him the next. Oh, and I'm pretty sure she's up to something shady, too, but no, Travis can't be friendly to the new girl or ogle his best friend's mom."

"Dude! Shut up about my Mom."

"I'm kidding, Sleepy. Simmer down."

I'm pretty sure I'm coming off like a douchebag today. "Whatever. I'm doing some homework."

"Oh! What's the bet today? What do you want from me that I can bribe you with?" Kira steps up onto a stool, dusting books. I groan, unable to hold it back. She looks like an office worker today. A hot office worker with a tight skirt that goes down to her knees, with a matching jacket-thing. The difference is, her jacket has little glittery things on it, that look like she glued them there herself.

"So not touching that one." Travis laughs, walking over to the table and plopping down.

"I don't know... I'll let you know when I figure one out."

She giggles, but doesn't reply, and keeps working. I sit with Travis, pulling out my books.

"We're really doing homework? Why are we doing homework?" Travis asks.

My reply is a shrug. Not like I can tell him I'm a slacker and might get kicked off the team if I don't bring up my English grade. Then something he said a few minutes before pops into my head. "What did you mean by thinking Trina is up to something shady?"

Travis leans backward in the chair, crossing his arms. "I don't know, bro... it's just. It's been weird lately. Even before they suddenly started doing all that cheer stuff with Sam. I don't know, it's been different for like a month, but more lately. Every time we're together she's on my ass about something, but she's spending more time with Sam. You know her parents are never home and Devin always has his friends around. I don't trust it."

My body stiffens. If something's going on with Trina, it's going on with Mel too. I can't figure out if I care or not. I mean, really care.

"The thing is," Travis leans forward, his voice low like he doesn't want Kira to know that guys really talk about important stuff too. "It should piss me off. I mean, if I think she's being shady. It's just like, whatever though. I'm kind of over it, know what I mean? People break up all the time. No matter how long they've been together." Travis's voice is stiff.

I do, but the difference is, I'm not sure if I have the nerve to do anything about it. "Are you going to talk to her? You guys have been together a long time." But I know he's made the decision; he really is going to break it off with her.

He laughs a little. "You so don't like change, do you? It'll be okay. We'll have joint custody of you. Mel can have you sometimes, but you're still my boy."

Kira steps up beside me, pulling the third chair out and sitting down. "What'd I miss?"

"Just me saying homework is way too boring for me. I'll catch you guys later. I'm gonna walk down to Tad's." Travis winks at Kira who gives him one right back, then ruffles my hair like he's my dad and I'm eight. "Cha-cha-cha-Changes," he sings and walks out.

Kira grabs her bag out from under the table and pulls out her books, too. Without a word, she opens one and gets to work. My book is calling to me, but I can't make myself reply.

"Where'd you move here from?" I ask, not sure where the question came from.

Her eyes don't leave her book, but I see her smile. It's like the inside of my chest hiccups or something at the sight.

"Get your homework done and I'll tell you."

I'm halfway through reading the directions when I realize I'm smiling too.