Page 13 of What You Own
My phone was in my hand before I stopped to think about who I was gonna call. Ellie was working until 2:00 a.m., and she’d sure as shit text me on her break. She was awesome like that. My parents were an option—not a great option, but better than staring at my wall for hours, dancing with my own thoughts.
I’d lucked out in the parent department. My mom, Tracey, was from a huge family in Austin, and I had dozens of cousins down there still. My dad, Darren, grew up a foster kid and didn’t have any family of his own—just what he’d married into. Growing up I’d never been alone, never wanted for company. And then my big sister Meghan got leukemia and died eighteen months later, right at the end of my eighth-grade year. We moved to Pennsylvania a month after the funeral. Dad got a good job offer, and they were too sad to stay in Texas.
Living around so much family kept me from being shy, so I didn’t figure on having trouble making new friends. I spotted Adam in homeroom, the only other kid not already talking to someone else, all skinny legs and black hair, and he didn’t make fun of me for calling him “hoss” like other kids did. We fit.
We’d always fit.
“THAT’SYOURfamily?” Adam asks. His black eyebrows are high into his forehead, and he’s gaping at a picture on the wall of the den. It’s the first time he’s come over to hang out in the two weeks since school started. He brought a new Xbox game, but we haven’t gotten around to playing it yet because he’s been prowling the house, investigating.
“Most of it,” I say. The picture was taken a few years ago at a family picnic at my Aunt Susan’s house. “My momma has four sisters and three brothers, and they’ve all got kids.”
He squints at the photo, leaning in close. “You guys all kind of look alike.”
“Momma says her family’s got strong genes. Same eyes, same nose, same chin.”
“What’s it like?”
“What?”
“Having a lot of family?”
“Fun most days. Trouble is everybody knows everybody else’s business, so it’s hard to keep a secret.”
He sighs and straightens up. “I know how that feels. My father has to know every detail of every day of my life. He’s pretty strict.”
“Sounds like he’s protective. My parents are more like that now. Never used to care when I’d run off with my cousins and disappear for hours.”
“What changed?”
My gaze lands on Meghan’s face in the family photo, healthy and smiling. “My sister died back in June.”
Adam’s eyes get so wide I think they’ll pop out onto the floor. “Of this year?”
I nod. It doesn’t hurt as much to say it out loud, and it’s okay to tell him because he’s my first friend here.
“Shit, Rye, I’m sorry.”
“S’okay. We moved up here after. My parents said they needed a change, but I think they’re just as sad here as they were in Austin.”
“Of course they are. You don’t get over losing a kid in a few months. Or a sister. I mean, I don’t have any siblings, but I get it. My mom died a few months ago.”
“What?” I’m horrified at going off about my own crap while he’s got his own. “I’m sorry.”
He shrugs. “It was an accident. She drowned.”
“Damn.”
“I bet you still get sad sometimes. I do.”
My chest feels funny, like something’s sitting on it, squishing it down. “Sometimes. Meghan was my biggest fan.”
Adam’s eyes ask the question.
I blush as I say, “I sing. I’m damned good too. Meghan used to say I could sing a snorting bull to sleep.”
“That’s a good thing, right?”
“Yeah, it’s good.” I laugh. He’s a Yankee through and through, Adam is.
