Waiting (7 page)

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Authors: Carol Lynch Williams

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Family, #Siblings, #Social Issues, #Suicide, #Depression & Mental Illness

BOOK: Waiting
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I’m too tired to argue. And I need a ride. This once.

Next time I’ll walk. Or ride with Taylor. Or maybe call my mom. Ha!

 

We head down the sidewalk, passing Taylor, who watches me, and to the sidewalk.

 

“Gosh, he’s hot,” Lili says, like it’s an apology. We cross the parking lot, to the far corner where an old van sits.

 

“The Beast,” Lili says. And then, “Once we were at the mall in Utah and we stopped in the parking lot and this old lady climbed up inside our van like we were a bus or something.” Lili laughs, and I nod, because what else should I do?

 

She slides the side door open. “Gross!” she says, and she’s so disgusted I’m scared there must be some monster in the back. “I’m telling Mom if you don’t get your mackdown sessions under control.” Lili looks at me and rolls her eyes. “We’re taking London home.”

 

So I’m all about clichéd crap, right? And yet I don’t see this coming. Jesse, moving from the backseat, wiping lip gloss from his mouth. Lauren, coming up to the
front, Jesse letting her hang on to the back of his shirt, then grabbing her hand and helping her to sit in the passenger seat.

 

Of freaking course.

 

All the way
to my house, Lili chatters.

 

I don’t have to give directions, because Lauren knows the way. We were friends for a long time. I liked her.

I really did. Lots of people do. Guys, too. She reaches across the open space between her and Jesse, running her hands through his hair every once in a while, pointing the way to go, resting her hand on his thigh.

 

“Stop touching my brother in public,” Lili says, and I can tell she is
not
happy. “He may not care, but I do. And so does my family.”

 

She looks at me and mouths, “I can’t stand that girl.” I almost smile.

 

The truth is, I still like Lauren. I would like her better if she cared. But Lili doesn’t need to know that.

 

“Your brother’s a big boy,” Lauren says. “We’re just having fun.”

Jesse grins at Lili.

 

“I live here,” I say as Lauren shouts, “Stop!”

 

The van screeches to a halt, and I open the door, taking
the huge step to the ground. My house seems lonely sitting there, like its insides have spilled out. Can everyone tell?

 

“Thanks.” When I look up, Jesse stares at me and so does his sister. They’re practically twins. I can see that they are related, though I have no idea how I didn’t notice this before. “Thanks,” I say again.

 

Lili leaps out of the van, hitting the ground with a thump in the gravel. “Now that I know where you live, we can hang out,” she says. “We don’t live so far from here. Want us to pick you up on the way to school in the morning?”

 

I don’t say anything. Think how I should ride with Taylor because that’s the right thing but know that I won’t. Not now. Not right now.

 

“Taylor’s back, isn’t he?” Lauren says. “You know he dropped Heather.” When I look at her, the sun seems to have picked her out and shines there, making her hair fiery. “She cried for days.” No one says anything, and she speaks again. “That’s what I heard.”

 

I swallow. My skin tingles. “I’m not going with him. I mean, I did this morning, to save my dad the trip, but . . .” My voice dwindles away.

 

“You back to talking?” Lauren says.

I just look at her, and she shrugs.

 

“Oh, that hot guy’s named Taylor?” Lili says, and she breaks out in a smile brighter than the sunbeam Lauren sits in.

“So we’ll take you home
and
pick you up in the a.m. Is that good?” She turns to her brother. A cool breeze picks up and I can smell the ocean. “You okay with that, Jesse?”

 

“Sure.” He looks me right in the eye, and all the sudden I want to kiss him. Is Lauren’s lip gloss still on his lips? I want to find out. I almost take a step forward, there’s that kind of draw. It’s almost spiritual. Does he feel it too? He looks at me like he does. Then, without warning, Lili hugs me, and for a moment the places where her skin touches mine burn like ice.

 

“This is going to be so fun. We’ll pick you up about seven tomorrow morning.” She releases me.

 

I open my mouth to say okay but can only nod.

 

It’s been a
long time. My mouth, it only sometimes works.

I don’t have that much to say

didn’t have anything to say when it all happened and now

with Lauren and Taylor and the others, maybe I’m used to being silent.

 

But this Jesse, this Lili, they’re new and they don’t have one bit of a clue what my life was.

What it is now.

So maybe I can start over a little on the inside.

 

I’m all alone.

When I step in the house, I feel the emptiness, feel me the only person breathing in here.

 

For a moment I think of my mother being here every day by herself

thinking of her dead son and the daughter she hates and doesn’t want to have anything to do with.

 

I walk into the foyer, which is dark as an artificial night, and know I wouldn’t want to sit around here either. I’d leave too.

 

There’s a mirror by the front door. I force myself to look at my reflection.

 

Am I so bad that my mother has to hate me?

Would I quit talking to me?

Was any of this my fault?

There’s not one answer on my face, only sadness.

 

I have to look away.

 

I flip on the light and start through the house, turning on switches and opening curtains and blinds.

 

The mother who hates me can close them all later. If she comes home.

 

She loved him
best.

We all knew that.

I even heard Daddy telling her to love me better and she just laughed—saying she loved us both, but especially Zach.

 

I didn’t blame her.

I loved him best too.

 

People who saw the three or four of us together knew.

It was obvious to everyone he was the favorite.

And sometimes my brother used that to his advantage.

But mostly he didn’t. Because, except for a few small little itty-bitty tiny things, my brother was all right.

 

It was Lauren.
Of course. Lauren told Lili everything. At least what she knew, which I’m sure isn’t accurate. That’s

how gossip is. Bits of truth sprinkled in with lots of crap.

 

And Jesse, too, I bet.

I bet he knows.

I bet she told him first.

 

They both know by now.

 

A weight settles on my shoulders. I can’t even stand up under it.

I have to go to bed.

So I do.

 

In bed I
wonder.

Does she tell Jesse that she wanted my brother bad?

Does she confess he never was that interested in her?

That once he found Rachel, he never looked back at Lauren?

Does she tell them that one time, when she spent the night with me, my dad caught her sneaking into Zach’s room, late?

 

Does she tell them how we laughed together?

Does she tell them that she was an expert at teaching someone how to put on makeup?

Does she say that we were best friends. Best. Before?

 

Does she say how I called her after he died?

Does she whisper how neither of us could talk?

 

Does she tell them that Zach loved Rachel?

 

And that Rachel.

That Rachel was something else.

 

At first, I
was like Lili. Jealous when Zach found Rachel.

But he so totally fell for her, and she didn’t mind sharing their time with me, too, so
I
totally fell for her. I mean, if

you could have seen Zach with her.

 

My Taylor (he
was
my Taylor then) was like, “Okay. Wow.

That girl is smoking, London.”

I punched him a good one for that. “How’d your brother manage to catch her?”

 

Mom and Daddy hated that she didn’t believe in the same God we did.

 

But Zach? He just grinned.

Took her hand at the table, kissed her once full on the mouth, right in front of Daddy, who looked away and would have crossed himself if he’d been Catholic.

 

Who could know everything then? Besides God?

 

Who?

 

Lying in bed
all dressed and on top of the covers, I hear Mom come home. She’s moving around, muttering, mad, closing the blinds. Closing the curtains. Snapping off lights too, I expect.

 

She has to know I’m here.

She has to know I’m the only one who would go against her wishes and let the light in.

 

Well, there’s light when she drives, isn’t there? Can she block the sun out, with her sunglasses?

 

She has to know I’m here. She has to see my book bag on the table. She has to know I’m in my room. Where else would I be?

I know she knows. I know it.

But she doesn’t come looking. Just mutters and closes curtains and blinds.

 

How long would
I
be dead before she found me?

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