Page 8 of Back to You
“Are you okay, honey?” Mrs. Fisher was obviously worried about me, I could see it on her face. My smile faltered. I didn’t want her to stress over me.
“Yeah. Yeah, I needed some fresh air, is all.”
“Are you hungry? There’s hamburgers on the stove,” she offered.
“Not really. Sorry. I think I’m gonna go to bed early.”
Her brows furrowed. “Okay. Sleep good.”
“I’ll try. Night,” I said.
Taking the stairs one step at a time, I hesitated with my hand on the rail when I heard Mrs. Fisher sigh. “Do you think he’ll be okay?” she asked the twins, a note of sadness in her voice.
“He’s okay, Mom,” Dane told her. “He just needs time.”
I closed my eyes and began to climb once more.
I hoped Dane was right.
* * *
“Sure you don’t wanna come downstairs and hang out?” Violet leaned against the doorframe of Dane’s bedroom, watching me. I was laying in bed, playing Zelda and minding my own business while the their graduation party kicked off downstairs.
“Nah. Don’t feel like socializing,” I told her. Her hopeful expression fell. I kind of felt like an asshole, but I had no intention of spending the day wearing a fake smile. I was already exhausted as it was. I waved her off. “Go have fun, Vi. It’s your special day.”
“Okay. If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.” In fact, I’d never been more sure of something in my life. The last thing I wanted to do was hang out with people I used to know from school. I didn’t want to see the pity in their eyes, or listen to their apologies and condolences for my mom’s death. No thanks. I’d rather listen to nails on a chalkboard.
Violet closed the door behind her, leaving me alone once more. I leaned against the pillows that I’d propped myself up with and returned to riding my freshly-caught wild horse through Hyrule Field, in search of the next big metal tentacle monster to take out.
I was never anything special in school. I did average in class and tried to keep on the straight and narrow, but the one thing I couldn’t stand for was bullying, and trust me, there was plenty of it. After what Mom and I had gone through with my dad, and the fact that I’d been too young to protect her whenever he’d get drunk and angry, I couldn’t sit back and let asshole kids get away with their shit.
Violet’s bullies weren’t the first and they wouldn’t be the last, and I made it my duty to protect the kids who couldn’t defend themselves. The loners, the outcasts, the nerds—it didn’t matter who they were, I stood up for them. Between middle and high school, I got into enough fights that I’d been given a nickname. The Bruiser. Nobody messed with me, and I was okay with that.
I put James Winters in the hospital when he started cracking cancer jokes shortly after Mom was diagnosed. Wasn’t my proudest moment. I got expelled, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was my mom and being there for her. Taking that as my cue, I dropped out of school and got a factory job to try and make ends meet.
I sighed and tried to focus on my game.
It wasn’t even an hour later when there was another knock on my door. Violet poked her head in. How did I know it would be her? “Hey. You want some cake?”
“Nah. Not hungry,” I said, never looking away from the screen. “Thanks though.”
“Are you sure? It’s your favorite, chocolate swirl with buttercream frosting. Mom ordered it special.”
I drew in a slow breath. “Sorry. I can’t.”
“Okay.” On the heels of a wistful sigh, the door snicked shut once more. I rubbed my gritty eyes and rolled onto my side. I knew she didn’t understand. How could she? She didn’t know how much it hurt to hear everyone having fun downstairs.
If things had been different, it would’ve been my party, too. The three of us would all be graduating, celebrating our newfound freedom together.
If things had been different, Mom would’ve been down there, chatting and laughing with the best of them. She would be the life of the party, as she often was. She would’ve had such a good time, and it felt wrong to indulge when she couldn’t.
The sadness hit me like a wave. I turned my game off and set it on the bedside table. I curled up in bed, hugging a pillow to my chest until there was yet another knock at the door. I sat up. “Violet, I told you—”
But it wasn’t Violet. It was Dane, and the boyishly charming smile he wore melted my frustrations away. “Brought you some cake.” In his hand was a paper plate, and sitting atop it was a huge slab of marble cake with thick teal and purple icing—the twins’ favorite colors.
Before I had the chance to argue that I wasn’t hungry, he plopped down beside me on the bed and gave me a one-armed hug. He passed me the plate, obviously not taking no for an answer. “Here. It’s amazing, trust me, and if you don’t eat it fast, the ice cream will melt.”
