Page 37 of Catcher's Lock
“Nothing.” I pull my fingers free and roll onto my back. “I’m too drunk for thoughts.”
“Rise and shine, knuckleheads.”
The world rocks appallingly as Josha bolts upright beside me. I squint into the sudden glare to find my mom standing over us, an unreadable look on her face. My stomach rebels against the wildly swinging hammock, and I lean over the edge, planting a hand on the ground to steady myself. It helps a little—until Josha scrambles off the other side, and I pitch face-first into the dirt. Zombie is already halfway into the trees.
“I’m awake. When did you guys get here? Shit. How were the final shows? We’re almost done with the truck. I can show you—”
“Josha.” My mom’s voice cuts through his rambling. “Take a breath. Get some coffee. There’s a fresh pot in the Airstream.”
“Is everyone back?” he asks, and I wince at the hopeful tone. Rolling over, I catch my mom’s knowing smile.
“Jesse’s getting started on the flatbed,” she says.Traitor. “I’m sure he could use your help.”
He ducks his head, ears flaming in a way that used to be only mine. But he glances my way, hesitating, and a wisp of satisfaction eases the clench in my hungover gut.
“I can help too.” I drag myself into a sitting position. “But definitely coffee first.”
“Just a minute,” my mom says. “Josha, you go ahead. I want a word with my son.”
I am in no condition to deal with whatever lecture she’s planning, but Josha abandons me without another look, so I don’t have much of a choice.
I wish he’d stand up to her every once in a while. It’s an unkind thought, small and selfish, and my head instantly punishes me with a new spike of pain. Even my hangover is on her side.
“Take a walk with me.” She offers a hand, and I begrudgingly let her pull me to my feet. “Looks like you two have been having fun. Where’d you get the cat?”
“That’s Zombie. Josha rescued him from the side of Little Lake by the middle school.”
“Sounds like something he would do.”
“I tried to talk him out of it.”
“Did you? Why?”
I shrug.Because apparently, I’m the type of sociopath who gets jealous of a kitten. “It didn’t look like he was gonna make it, and I didn’t want Josha to be bummed.” Which is also sort of true and makes me feel slightly less unhinged.
“You care about him deeply—not the cat,” she amends, when I open my mouth to make a snarky reply. I absolutely hate that she can read my mind like that. She studies my face in sidelong glances as we weave along the path. The returned caravan of trucks and trailers fills the lot, visible through the trees, and I search instinctively for Josha’s auburn head in the small crowd around the flatbed.
“That’s whatrealbest friends do.” It’s petty, but I can’t help myself.
She drags me to a stop, forcing me to meet her gaze.
“Do you remember that argument we had last spring, and what I told you when you asked about me and your father?”
“No,” I lie. “You said a lot of shit back then.” Tearing my arm free, I turn toward the relative safety of the clearing.
“I told you ‘best friends wasn’tenough.’”
I stumble over an exposed root, and my gorge rises, flooding my mouth with the sour burn of old vodka.
“I know Josha is your best friend,” she continues, merciless. “But I thinkyouknow that that might not be enough for him. You need to be very careful about how you treat him, and that it reflects what you really want and what you’re willing to give. Who is he to you, Gem? Do you think he could be more than a friend?”
Giving up, I slump against the nearest trunk and close my eyes. “He’sJosha.”
The truth is, I don’t have a name for what I feel about him, if one even exists. Whatever it is, it’s certainly notclarity. Not when my life feels like it’s slipping further out of my control every day. If I ever had any control to begin with.
As if she can read my mind, my mom cups my cheek, her face softening with sympathy.
“No one expects you to have everything figured out at seventeen—lord knows I didn’t. But Josha…he deserves someone wide awake, Gem. Someonesure. Are you sure? Because if you can’t be that person, you need to let him find it somewhere else.”
