Bleed Like Me (14 page)

“Be right back,” I whispered, and pretended not to see Miguel reach his hand to Luis's and squeeze hard.

My feet felt weighed down by bricks as I made my way back to where he stood. Was the shitstorm between my parents about to break?

I followed him into the kitchen and crossed my arms, leaning against the sink.

“Your mother and I need a weekend away,” Dad said, and my eyes widened.

“What about the boys?”

“It's actually only for one night. Two full days, but only one night.” Mom's hands fluttered around her, plucking at her sweater, her buttons, her hair, unable to land on anything.

“Who's going to take care of them?” My voice cracked a bit. I knew how Luis would see this. My parents hadn't been away from them since they got to the States. Mom feared they'd view any kind of departure as abandonment. They might not
have when they were younger, but they definitely would now.

“We thought you could,” Dad said. “We trust you, and we think the boys will take it better if they aren't left with a stranger.”

My heart beat too fast. “I'm not sure that's a good idea.”

Mom's eyes had a hint of panic in them, but she stepped toward me and squeezed my shoulder. “Of course it is. You're very responsible. The boys will be in school the Friday we leave, so really it's just Friday night and Saturday that you need to keep an eye on them. We'll be home by Saturday night.” She peeked at Dad. “Early.”

“I'm seventeen. Even if I am their sister, it's a little much.” I wanted to argue that I had work, but I wasn't going back to the store after Dennis's comment about me spreading my legs. Ricardo had texted me four times when I was with Brooks, begging me to come help set up for the sale, but the memory of Dennis's venomous words made walking into Standard feel impossible.

Dad coughed. “Yes, well, we've contacted the Wilsons and they've agreed to keep an eye on the place and help you out if you need it.”

It wasn't much, but at least it was a lifeline.

“We trust you, Amelia. And your father and I need some time alone together.” Mom gave me a hemorrhoid smile and I thought I might barf. They were going to guilt me into it? I hated them so much.

“I want to be paid.” Brooks's plea to run away with him circled around my head. How much hardware money did I have saved? Maybe eighteen hundred dollars? How long would it last us? And did Brooks have any money?

Mom blinked at me, but Dad sighed. “Yes. Of course we'll pay you. We can figure something out.”

“When are you planning on leaving?”

“We're talking about next weekend,” Dad answered. “We've got Thanksgiving, and know you're working the sale this weekend.” I wasn't, of course. But I wasn't about to tell my parents that.

“So next weekend I'm watching the boys for two whole days and you're disappearing?”

Mom nodded grimly. I bit the inside of my cheek and thought about Brooks. I'd spent thirty-five days without him. I hated that I was going to have to add two more. Although if I agreed to run away with him, two days was really nothing in the scheme of the rest of our lives. I released a breath. “You better go tell the boys.”

I walked up the stairs and slipped my phone out of my bag.

Gannon:
No fun 4 me next weekend. My parents are out. I'm watching the boys.

Brooks pinged back right away.

Brooks:
That sounds like LOTS of fun.

Gannon:
Haha. For you maybe.

Brooks:
Where are your parents going?

Gannon:
Away.

Brooks:
Sounds promising. For how long?

Gannon:
Friday and Saturday.

Brooks:
Then we have a plan.

I blinked at my phone. He couldn't be serious.

Gannon:
You don't think I'll leave my brothers, do you?

Brooks:
Of course not. But they'll love me. Not to worry.

Gannon:
You're gonna help me babysit?

Brooks:
I'm not going to watch those little criminals w/o you

Gannon:
You're ridiculous. Don't you have better things to do?

Brooks:
There's nothing better to do than you. xx

My face flushed. A twinge of guilt tapped at my conscience. Mom and Dad would never agree to Brooks helping me watch the boys. I batted the guilt away. They were sucker punching me into two days with three spawn of the devil; I should be allowed reinforcements.

Gannon:
Pervert. :P

I hit end on my phone and pulled my razors from under my bed. My fingers moved over them, the pad of my thumb rubbing over the sharp edges. Then, before I could change my mind, I raced into the hallway and grabbed a bag of craft supplies out of the closet. I dumped all of Mom's materials on my carpet floor and grinned like an idiot.
Two days. Two days. Two days. With Brooks.
It echoed like a mantra in my head.

Ali texted me again at lunch the next day.

Ali:
Call me. Now.

Crap. I'd forgotten about her. She picked up on the first ring.

“Where the hell have you been?”

“Uh, school, where are you?”

She released a deep breath. “Well, Gannon, if you'd answered my texts, you'd know I'm currently in my bedroom after the police paid my mom a visit two days ago.”

“What?”

“Yeah. I guess the locker room flooding stunt caused several thousand dollars in damages, and they've made a deal that if I pay full restitution, charges will be dropped. Otherwise I'll be charged with destruction of school property and I'll be doing community service until I'm eighty.”

My bag dropped to the floor. I sat down beside it. “Christ, Ali, that sucks. What are you gonna do?”

“Well, Skeevy Dave has offered to loan me the money in exchange for my ‘help' with some jobs around his house.”

I inhaled deeply. “I don't think that's a good idea, Al.”

“Do you have anything better? Do you have money to give me?”

My stomach clenched. I did. Ali knew I did.
Run away with me.
Brooks flashed into my mind. What would he say if I gave all my money to Ali? What would Ali say if I told her I couldn't?

The silence drew out between us. Too long. I opened my mouth but my “yes” refused to pry itself from my lips. Excuses bounced around my brain. My lifeline frayed, unraveled piece by piece, and still I said nothing.

“Forget it, Gannon. I'll figure it out. Have a good Thanksgiving.”

“Ali, wait—”

She clicked off. I tried calling her back. Texting her. Nothing. I knew I should give her the money. Skeevy Dave was a bad option. But too many parts of me rebelled at the idea. Everything I'd made in the last few years had been to get out of my crappy house. Could I really give it all up?

•  •  •

The Thanksgiving weekend passed in a haze of Indian Spirit cigarettes and Brooks. Holed up in his room beneath his scratchy
striped blanket, lost in each other for hours. I should've gone to see Ali. I should've called Dennis to say I wasn't coming to the store for the sale. I should've done homework or watched the boys so my mom didn't have to deal with them at the grocery store or while she was cooking the holiday dinner they barely ate. But I didn't. I ate Junior Mints and let Brooks brand me with hickeys all over my body.

Monday afternoon I was crossing the street after school when Ricardo caught up with me.

“Gannon,” he said, and grabbed my arm.

I shook him off. “What do you want?”

“Why'd you bail on the sale?”

“Um, because I quit.”

He ran his hand over his stubby buzz cut and swore under his breath. “Okay, I'm not sure what happened between you and Dennis, but he's stomping around the store like a pissed-off rhino and when I even mentioned your name, he told me to get out. What the hell?”

I put my hands on my hips. “Did he also tell you he was a total asshole?”

His brow furrowed. “No, he didn't really mention that. It was more like, ‘Gannon's on the highway to hell and you should stay as far away from her as possible.' ”

“Nice. Very professional.”

“So what happened?” He tucked his hands into his front
jeans pockets and waited. The short sleeves of his T-shirt stretched across his biceps. Ricardo was built, stocky in a wrestler kind of way. So different from Brooks's lankiness.

People walked by, nodding their heads and acknowledging Ricardo. No one said anything to me. Still Ricardo stared at me. Always so patient.

I released a sigh. “He told me I should stay away from Brooks.”

“Classic.” Ricardo laughed too hard. I gave him my death glare. “He's right though. You should. That guy's messed up.”

“No, he's not.”

Ricardo reached out and pushed aside the scarf around my neck. “Do your parents even notice these?” He didn't touch me, but I knew he was talking about the hickeys. “They look really bad.”

“Go to hell.” I moved toward the parking lot where the buses waited. Brooks had some outpatient rehab thing so he couldn't take me home and I was too ashamed to call Ali for a ride, even if she was back in school. Buses were the worst transportation known to man, but my boots had been giving me blisters all day and walking home would have destroyed my feet.

“Hey,” Ricardo said, and grabbed my arm again. I shook him off. “You can't quit over this. You've been working there forever.”

“Yes, in fact, I can. I don't need this crap. Dennis has no right to comment about who I'm dating.”

“Wah, wah. Who gives a shit? You love work. Or at least you love getting out of your house.” He looked at me with his too-perceptive eyes. “Apologize to Dennis for missing the sale and get your ass back there.”

I swallowed a lump in my throat. Ricardo knew more about me than I'd realized. “I just can't be there right now.”

I started to walk faster, praying he wouldn't follow me and ask more questions.

“Gannon,” he called out. I turned back to him. “Don't decide right now. Give it a few days. You can make peace with Dennis later. And I'm sure Brooks wouldn't want you to give up your job for him.”

I bit my lip. He would if it meant running away with him.

“I'll think about it,” I called back. “No promises, though.”

He nodded and grinned at me. “I'll work on Dennis in the meantime. You know he just said all that because he likes you and doesn't want to see you hurt.”

“Once again, not his business.” I raised an eyebrow. “Or yours.”

“Message received,” he said, then waved and trotted off back in the direction of school.

•  •  •

Dad was sitting in my room when I got home. Graying hair, tired face, too many wrinkles. And still the hesitant look in his eyes like he had no idea what the hell had gotten him to
where he was. I was so surprised to see him seated on my bed I actually squeaked. He patted the spot next to him.

“I wanted to talk to you.”

Oh Christ, they were getting a divorce.

“About what?”

“Your boyfriend, Michael,” he answered. My jaw dropped. It was worse than the divorce talk. It was a Dad talk about Brooks. Pink flared on my cheeks.

“What about him?”

“Well, er,” he said, and shifted uncomfortably on the bed. “I know you're almost eighteen and this is sort of your first boyfriend, so I want to make sure you're making the right choices.”

I shut my eyes.
Please let me die right now
. “Is this a sex talk?” I whispered.

He nodded and shifted again. Had Mom put him up to this in anticipation of their weekend away?

“We trust you to make good decisions, but this boy seems to have become very important to you awfully fast, and I just wanted to let you know that if you have any questions, I'm here for you.”

My eyes moved around the room. This was possibly the most horrifying moment of my life, in part because Dad had no idea how to have a sex talk and in part because he had no idea who I even was anymore. He wasn't
there
for me. He hadn't been
there
for any of us in a long time.

“Thanks, Dad. I'll keep you posted if I have any questions.”

I hoped that would end the conversation and I could push him out of my room, but he'd gotten the whole thing in his head and apparently wanted to do it right.

“I got you some . . . protection if you need it.”

“You bought me condoms? I don't . . .”

He stood and zipped out of my room. Seconds later he returned with a box of Trojans in his hand. “Take them. Let me know if you need more. There'll be no questions asked. I'd rather you be safe than sorry.”

Holy hell, it was a nightmare of awkward parental conversations. It was the worst kind of ABC Family teen drama. I bit my lip and nodded at him.