Page 66 of F*cking Shattered

“Okay, great.” I move the phone away to hang up, but hear him call out.

“And Josh?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for giving me a chance.”

“You’re welcome,” I say before hanging up the phone.

The following week, nerves are eating me alive while I walk to the hotel restaurant George asked me to meet him at. I walk through the elegant building and stop before they see me.

I move next to the wall, just so I can study them for a brief moment. George looks like a good dad to her. They are talking, completely carefree and laughing. Seeing him this way, makes me a little jealous that I never got that with him.

I push down the anger that bubbles up with that thought and force my feet to move.

I walk up to their table and George’s smile grows. He stands and pulls me in for a hug, gently slapping my back. “I’m glad you made it, Son.”

“I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

He turns to face my sister. “Kate, this is your brother, Josh.”

Her eyes look me up and down, squinting with bitterness and anger as she holds out her hand.

It seems awkward to shake the hand of a sister you just met, but I shake it anyway. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“We’ll see,” she answers.

“Please have a seat, Josh. I’m going to use the restroom and track down our waiter.” He walks off with confidence rolling off his suit covered body.

I sit across from Kate. “How are you?”

She lifts a shoulder, letting it fall quickly as her blue eyes that match mine narrow in on me. “Not great, as you can probably imagine.”

“Why not?”

“Since you showed your face at my house, my parents have done nothing but argue. My family might be splitting up because of you.” Her tone is harsh and shrill.

I let my eyes fall to the table between us. “I’m sorry. It was never my intention to cause problems with your family.”

“Why now? Why show up now?” Anger is etched on her round face. She looks so young and innocent. So much unlike me.

“My mom was sick. She was dying and we couldn’t afford the experimental drug she needed. I knew I was grasping at straws, but I had to try. I wanted to save her.” I hope she can hear the pain in my voice. She’s my family now. The only family I have since my mom passed. I need her more than her young mind can realize.

“Your mom died?” Her voice has now softened as realization washes over her.

I nod.

“Do you have any other family?”

“Nope. It’s just me,” I say, tearing a paper napkin to shreds.

Her hand covers mine. “We’re family.”

And like that, she accepts me.

For the next three days, they stay in New York, and we spend every waking minute together. When they leave, we exchange numbers, promising to talk at least once a week.

When I first met her, I thought she was going to be the tough one to crack, but she opened up to me like nobody ever has. We talked about her school, her best friend that has the weirdest name I’ve ever heard, and what she plans for the future. I’m in awe of her. She’s young and still thinks everything is within her reach, and with her daddy’s money, it might be. But I make sure to keep my current living situation under wraps. They don’t need to know that I’m homeless and living out of a tent.

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