Page 14 of Even After Sunset

“His uncle beat him up the other night,” Jackie continues, undeterred, ignoring the interruption completely. “And I’m sure that wasn’t the only time. And maybe Silas got into some trouble in the past, but what if it’s because he’s just reacting or trying to deal with stuff that’s going on in his life at home? Because I know Silas is not the problem. And it’s not fair thathe’sthe one who has to go live in a detention center—because his abusive guardians suddenly don’t want to deal with him anymore.”

What in the hell?She needs to shut up.Now.

“His uncle hit him?”

“He didn’t just hit him! He totallybeat him up.When he was already passed out,” she shoots back, full of confidence now. Over-brimming with righteousness. “I saw a text from one of his friends about it. And I saw the bruises, Richard… They’re horrible.”

“Oh, Lord,” Richard says. “You should have told me. How long has—”

“You read mytexts?” I cut him off, laying into Jackie because I am so pissed right now I can’t hold it in anymore. I can’t believe she read my fucking texts!

“I didn’t mean to.” She looks anguished and a little shocked. Like she’s just now remembering I’m sitting right next to her. “You were outside, and you left your phone on the seat and I looked at it when it buzzed and when I saw what the message said…”

“You picked it up andread my personal texts?”

“How long has Silas been with you, Jackie?” Richard interrupts.

I can’t take it anymore. I lean across the seat: up close to the mic, but also right up in Jackie’s personal space.

“By all fucking means,” I bite out, “Feel free to keep talking about my personal life amongst yourselves. Like I’m not right. Fucking. Here.”

I don’t even care that Jackie flinches, because it feels like she just took a huge chunk out of my pride and swallowed it whole without even taking the time to chew.

I fall back in my seat, clutching at my bangs.

“Silas…” Richard switches rapid-fire-quick to his soothing therapist voice. “I’m sorry, son. I should have asked if—”

“You know what?” I shoot back. “Save it. I’m heading outside for a smoke. Trenton is fine. I’ll be up and ready to go tomorrow morning.”

Trenton isnotfine. And neither am I: I’ll lose my shit if I have to listen to any more of their back-and-forth “let’s talk about Silas and his entire life behind his back, but right in front of him” bullshit.

“Silas, wait!” Jackie leans across the seat and clutches at my arm with her porcelain doll fingers.

Just the motion of reaching for the door handle is enough for me to shake her off. She reaches for me again, but I’m already halfway out, and I don’t look back when I slam the door behind me. I don’t care if it’s an apology she wants to give me or an offer to go live with Kendall fucking Jenner: I can’t take anymore of their conversation. And I think right about now would be a perfect time to light my last cigarette.

You know, final straw and allthat.

They talk for a long time. Over twenty minutes. And I’m long done my cigarette when Jackie emerges from around the front of the camper, looking weary of me as she approaches.

Good. I hope she stays that way.

“I’m really sorry if that conversation made you uncomfortable,” she says.

I roll my eyes. This girl… She manages to sound like a seasoned counselor, even though she’s probably only ever seen one on tv. But what person under thirty talks like that in real life?

Wait. Scratch that: her adoptive father is some kind of high-profile kid shrink. So I guess it does make perfect sense.

“Richard wants to talk to you alone for a minute,” she tells me. Like we’re ten years old again and being called in one-by-one to be reamed out by our parents.

Only, yeah, our parents are dead.

I glare at her for a full ten seconds before grabbing the phone out of her outstretched hand. She gives me what I’m assuming is meant to be an apologetic and reassuring smile all rolled in to one. In return, I give her the finger as I push past her and head around to the other side of the camper. It’s not exactly private, but at least it’s not right fucking next to her.

And because apparently my day hasn’t already been filled with enough wonderful surprises, Richard hits me with another one, and isn’t my life just a grab-bag of unexpected twists and turns?

He proposes an ultimatum. More specifically, he presents me with a motion clearly hand-crafted by Jackie and then polished and buffed and refined by him.

Instead of going to Trenton while social services treasure hunts for my shiny new foster family (i.e. over-crowded, depressing-as-hell group home), Richard will work out a deal with them for me to stay on the road with Jackie for the next ten weeks. On the condition that I promise to be on my best behavior: stay out of trouble, stay away from liquor and any other illegal substances, and check in via FaceTime with Richard every night at ten to prove that I am, in fact, where I am supposed to be.

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