He shuts the fridge and leans a hip on the island with his arms crossed. “How was your day?”
I toss my gym bag on the counter and shrug. “Like every other day—somewhere between lame and prison. One day closer to Hopkins. Workout was decent.”
His lips barely tip on one side. “Between you and your sister, I’m getting a complex. You both come to live with me, and life is miserable. I can’t seem to fix shit with her, and all you want to do is leave. What am I doing wrong?”
I know he’s giving me shit, but that makes me feel worse about telling him how Mom wants parenting reports every other day. I push past him and open the pantry to dig out a couple protein bars. “You’re not doing anything wrong. What’s for dinner?”
He shakes his head and motions upstairs to where I assume Emma is holed up in her room like she usually is. “I’m trying to figure that out. Em says she’s not hungry, while you could eat a whole chicken. I hate to cook, and the grill is covered in snow.”
I open the fridge and pull out a sports drink. “Chinese?”
“Sounds good, bud.” He pulls his cell from his back pocket and keeps talking while he types. “Your mom get hold of you?”
I take a drink, but don’t say anything.
He looks up. “Levi.”
I lift my chin. “I told her the truth—that you’ve got this, because you do. She’s worried about Emma.”
He sighs and taps his screen a few more times before looking up at me. “I am too. I’ll get her straightened out. I’m close to scheduling meetings at school with her teachers and told Crew I’ll be at camp even less. I can coordinate Carson from here, so I can keep an eye on her—not that there’s anything to see. I’m doing my best to be patient, but if it comes to it, I’ll drag her ass out of the house.”
“Good luck with that.” I pick up my bags when I get a text and pull my cell out of my pocket.
It’s her.
Fucking finally.
Shit.
I stare at her text, even though I shouldn’t care.
I never care. I’m in the home stretch. Just a few months until I’m out of here.
“Bud,” my dad calls for me. “I don’t need to worry about you, too, do I?”
I stuff my phone back in my pocket, even though I’m itching to hit her back. “Never.”
I start to leave so I can do just that when Dad calls for me. “Levi.”
I stop and turn.
“I feel like I just got you back, and we only have a few months left. I can’t say it enough … proud of you. You’ve been through it, and it hasn’t been easy. I want to make the most of the time we have before you leave.”
And just like that, his going through it comment snaps at me like a wet towel on bare skin.
A reminder.
One I didn’t want, but one I’m sure I needed. Especially with the impending message waiting for me.
“I want to make the most of it too.”
Dad huffs a small laugh and smirks. “I know how bad you want to be done with high school and get the hell out of here. It’s nice of you to humor me.”
I bite back a smirk and shrug.
“Go.” He waves me off. “Do your thing. I’ll yell when dinner’s here. I ordered you a buffet.”
“Thanks.”
“Say hi to your sister,” he orders as I make my way up the stairs.
I take them two at a time, stop at Emma’s room, and knock on her closed door. She doesn’t answer, but I know she’s in there. Unless Dad makes her come down to eat and force her to spend time with us, she’s here.
I bang on it this time.
“What?” she clips.
I try the handle—surprised it’s not locked—and push the door open. She’s in bed, flipping through screen after screen on her phone. “What’s up?”
She doesn’t make a move to look at me. “I heard him tell you to stop and say hi. You can move on.”
“Mom called. She actually called four times until I answered.”
“Join the club,” she mutters.
“Maybe you should talk to her.”
“Maybe you should mind your own business.”
“Em.”
“Levi.”
I push her door all the way open and lean on the door jamb, but say nothing.
She finally turns to me. “What do you want?”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Doing what?” Her hair, the same dark color as mine, is a mess, and she’s more pale than she should be, even if it is in the middle of winter.
I look around her room. It’s a pit. I’m no neat freak, but she didn’t do this when we lived with Mom. My gaze focuses back on her. “Doing nothing. You don’t go anywhere. Even if they were annoying, you don’t hang out with your friends anymore.”
“Why do you care?”
I throw my hand out to motion around us. “You’re setting the vibe, Em, and it’s a dark one.”
Her eyes glass over, and she rolls back to where she was when I came in. “You’re such an ass.”
I sigh. “Do you need help with your homework?”
“Get out of my room.”
“Emma—” I barely get the word out when a pillow flies through the air. I catch it with one hand and toss it back.
“Get out, Levi.”
I give up and shut the door, wondering if she’ll even come down for dinner.
I dump my shit on the floor and shut myself in my own room that’s almost as much of a mess as Emma’s. I ignore the clean clothes that are piled in a chair in the corner and go straight to the message I’ve been more curious about than I care to admit, even to myself.
Carissa – Sorry. I’ve had some … stuff.
She’s had some stuff? That’s all she has to say?
Me – Does any of that “stuff” have to do with chemistry?
Carissa – Unless a day in the emergency room counts as chemistry, then no. Like I said, stuff.
Me – Are you okay?
Carissa – It wasn’t me. It was my brother, and Louise doesn’t know what she’s doing or how bad it was.
Me – Damn. Who’s Louise?
Carissa – You know this is a lot, right? You’re only supposed to be helping me with chem, and I haven’t done anything to study yet. Trust me, you do not want to know about my drama.
I stare at the screen and realize I didn’t even look her up. Not on social media, not the internet … nothing.
She could be a shit show.
I know what a fucking shit show is.
Been there.
Done that.
Don’t need an Act II.
This time I leave her hanging, pull up my browser, and type in her name. The internet does not leave me wanting.
I scroll.
And scroll and scroll and scroll.
Sure, there are social media hits. She’s a teenager, most of us are desperate to put ourselves out there. I say most, because, aside from my lacrosse shit that I had to post for recruiting, I have very little. If I’ve learned anything from my dad, it’s that I do not need the world knowing everything about me.
But there’s also every cable news network, national newspaper publication, and a million of the hits are in Arizona alone.