UNEDITED
Not all storms come to disrupt your life, some come to clear your path.
Those are the words that Justin McCallister has been repeating in his mind since the day he was diagnosed with a non-cancerous brain tumour that's been causing partial...
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Adelaide
After school, I decide I'm going to drop off Justin's homework at his house before I head to work. He lives on Lakeview Road, meaning he's not far from the school and that he's on my way into town. Convenient.
As I pull into the driveway, I think about how nice it must be for Justin to be to have access to the lake. Living near Kalamoir Beach definitely has its perks during the summer. It's like my grandparents' house down by Gellatly Nut Farm – unlimited beach access, hiking trails, and the beautiful lake I love to swim in. I'm not complaining, though. I do love that my family's house backs onto Rose Valley Regional Park, meaning it will never be developed and that I have access to thousands of hiking trails whenever I want.
When I've shifted into park and killed the engine, I quickly make sure my messy bun is in place and that I have all the papers Justin is going to need. Then, without hesitation, I head to the front door, hoping that Justin is feeling healthy enough to at least answer the door. Don't get me wrong – his mom is sweet and caring, but she's a little intimidating. It's almost like she's analyzing me whenever I'm over.
Ten seconds pass before someone comes to the door. I'm expecting it to be Justin's mom, but instead of seeing her face, I see a younger boy in front of me.
"Who are you?" I blurt.
Sometimes I don't know why I bother talking. I'm not trying to be rude, but I sound rude as heck. Everything I say tends to come out wrong when I'm stuck in a stressful situation. And this is a little stressful. I get the anxiety from my Dad. I'm telling the truth when I say my parents keep no secrets from us – Jake, Alex, and I know all about Dad's panic attacks when he was a teenager. And sometimes, I can feel the lingering sense of panic. It's ridiculous, but I prefer having the sense of familiarity on my side.
So that's why I'm stressing.
I don't know who this kid is and for all I know, for some strange reason, there's the possibility I could be at the wrong house.
Subconsciously, I bring my thumb up to my mouth. Chewing on my nails has been a bad habit of mine since I can remember.
I don't know what it is about this kid, but he's intimidating. Those dark brown eyes just have this intensity I've never seen before.
"Who are you?" he responds, cool as a cucumber.
"I'm, um, Adelaide Levesque," I stutter. "I'm looking for Justin." I gesture at the thick stack of papers in my arms. "I have all the homework he missed last week. Figured he could work on it while he's sick." I shake my head. "Unless he's too sick to work on it, that is."
Smooth, Levesque. Real smooth.
The kid stares blatantly at me and I do the same to him. There's something familiar about him, and the more I inspect his physical features, the stronger the familiarity gets.
Heart-shaped face, cheeks that still have a tinge of baby fat, prominent jawline, rounded eyes, and golden hair.
Finally, it clicks.
"Are you Christian? Justin's little brother?" Though there are differences between Justin and Christian, it's easy to tell they're siblings. The shape of their faces, rounded eyes, and the prominent jawline are dead giveaways.
He blinks in surprise. "You know who I am?"
I nod, hoping I'm making a good impression. "He mentioned you at the Halloween party." I have this urge to add on more; say how sorry I am that he has to go back and forth between his parents, but something stops me. Justin expressed these details to me one-on-one. Bringing up the fact that I know some of their family history might make Christian dislike me, and then get mad at Justin for saying something.
"Huh," he says, looking intrigued. "How do you know my brother?" He pauses. "And I go by Chris."
I jot that down in my mental notebook for future usage. "Okay. Chris. Thanks for letting me know. And I go to school with Justin. I'm his friend." Girlfriend is what I want to say, but I tuck that word away for now. There are things he and I need to discuss first.
Chris frowns for a moment. "Justin doesn't have any friends."
Though I think Chris is saying this because Justin's new to the area, I have this prodding feeling that there's a deeper meaning to what he's said. I, however, leave it alone. "Well," I shrug. "I'm his friend and I brought him homework. I also wanted to see how he's doing."
I'm hoping Chris will let me come in, but he doesn't budge. Instead, he reaches out and takes the papers from me. "He's asleep. I'll give him the papers."
And then, without another word, Chris steps back and closes the door right in my face.
I blink several times, staring at the white door in front of me, taking in every insufficient detail.
What the heck just happened?
But before I can dig further into it, my phone dings.
It's Dad and he's wondering where the heck I am. With school and sports going again and summer being over, we've lost staff members that can work during the weeknights. Weekends are fine, but weeknights are where we need more people or need people to pull double shifts. Which is exactly what I'm doing tonight.
Sighing and ignoring the longing to knock and demand to see Justin, I spin on the heel of my boot and head for the car.
