Sam borrows money from one of his friends on the basketball team and leaves on a bus that night. While Rob and I sit at the kitchen table, doing homework, our older brother makes his exit, a cap pulled low over his face to hide what happened to him.
Glancing at him, with his bags and his edgy demeanor, I can't help thinking that he's really so much like our father. Hot-tempered. Impulsive.
The front door shuts, and Rob and I find ourselves alone in the house. "How are we going to get to school?" I put to him.
"We'll bum a ride again."
"We'll have to keep doing it until Dad gets back."
He doesn't answer, returning his attention back to his books. I look down at my own homework but can't seem to process any of the words. I remember my conversation with Mom before, thinking over the last thing she said.
'You are going to be in a lot of trouble though. You just wait.'
The way she said that made it seem like she would be coming back. I bite my lip, hope brimming inside me. For all her faults, she's still our mother, and it's wrong to be away from her. But of course, first, she'll have to sort out things with dear old dad. I don't know how she's going to manage. I don't know how it could end any way but badly.
The next day, Rob and I ride to school with his friend Billy again. Rob tells him that we're going to need him to drive us for at least a few days, and he smiles and says 'No problem'. He doesn't know how much he doesn't know.
I sit in the car that morning, listening to some pop-punk band, while Rob and Billy make chit-chat. It occurs to me that I could have asked someone else for a ride to school - namely Josh - if I'd wanted to. But I didn't. I'm sick of dragging him into my problems. I'm sick of needing him. I still have my pride, even if the rest to me wants to see him, wants to have him comfort me and tell me things are going to be OK.
At that moment, I hear Billy asking Rob about Mona, and I start listening, curious.
"I haven't seen her for a while," Rob admits.
"Why?"
"I've ... been busy."
"Don't wait too long, man."
"I agree," I tell Rob, and he becomes red-faced.
"Clare, stay out of it."
"You like her, don't you?"
He shrugs, but I can tell from the stiff way he does it, and the way his eyes start darting around, that she matters to him. "What about you?"
"Me?"
"What's with you and that guy who came to the house looking for you? Josh?"
I stare at him for a minute. This is the first time Rob's actually asked about him. It feels strange to talk about this with my twin. "He's just a friend."
"He's in your class?"
"Um, no."
"Then how'd you get to know this guy?"
"Uh .... " I remember the fight on Toledo Avenue, then push the memory away, searching for something more acceptable. "School. Detention."
"Oh, you mean ... ?" he pauses there, looking at me expectantly. I'm sure he remembers. "Right. So are you and him going out?"
"No. He has a girlfriend."
Something shifts in Rob's eyes. "Oh. Well, that sucks."
'I mean, I'm with Erin. That's how it is.'
That's right. That's how it is. That's the girl Josh should be with.
I need to keep away from him, as much as I can. When I'm with him, every second is a chance to make another mistake and end up betraying Erin. I think about the last time I went to Toledo to see him, and how he gave me a hug. That was dangerous. I shouldn't have let that happen.
The hard truth is that we can't be friends. Not with the kind of relationship we have.
That day, I get to lunch, ready to tell Alex what happened at home. But as I near our table, I spot Adam there.
Damn. It must be an Adam day. I totally forgot - my mind has been on other things after all.
I hesitate for a moment, trying to decide. I definitely can't let Adam in on what's going on with the Conroys. Alex is enough. I guess I'll just have to wait until after school or something. I turn away, leaving to lunch by myself.
The rest of the day doesn't bring much. After the last bell, I find Rob and tell him to go home without me. Meanwhile, I wait for Alex, and she appears after some time, hand-in-hand with Adam.
"Hey," they greet me in unison.
I cast a gaze over their linked arms. "You guys going somewhere?"
"We're going to get some ice-cream, maybe catch a movie."
"You can come too," Adam suggests nicely.
I let out a snort, before covering it up with a bout of coughing. "Uh, no, thanks."
Alex blinks at me. "Are you still waiting for your brothers? Seems kind of late."
I press my lips together for a long moment. I suppose I could tell her right now. In a way, I'm dying to. But not like this. Not out in the cold in front of school, while kids bustle past us, close enough to hear every word. And not in front of Adam.
"No, I'm taking the bus."
"The bus?" Adam repeats. "Where are your brothers?"
"They ... went without me."
Alex frowns in puzzlement. "Without you?" She stares at me, and understanding dawns over her, too late. "Clare, were you waiting for me?" she asks as I'm turning away.
"No, of course not." I'm too mortified now to tell the truth, and this to my own best friend.
I hear Adam's voice: "What's going on?"
Alex says my name again, and I look over my shoulder, shrugging. "Look, you guys have fun, OK? Alex, call me when you can."
I don't give her a chance to respond. I take off like a shot, my bag bobbing on my shoulders. The bus is going to leave soon anyway, so I might as well run. I fly up the steps into the vehicle, taking the first seat I see. With a wheeze, I lean back against the worn out seat. I keep my gaze away from the window so I won't have to look at Alex and Adam.
Argh, it's no big deal. I can always talk to Alex later. I can't have her dropping things for me all the time.
I hear a sick whoosh of air as the bus door closes. There is a jerk, and we all begin to chug along. I slump in my seat, shutting my eyes for most of the ride.
Back at home, nothing's changed. No Mom or Dad, no Sam, not even a message on the answering machine. I find Rob in his room, freshly showered and playing a noisy game on his computer. "Anything?"
"Nope," he answers, not taking his eyes off the screen.
I wind my fingers together anxiously. I saunter over, taking a place in a stiff-backed chair by the wall. I pull up my knees, staring at my brother. A film of light from the computer rests over his dark features.
Beeps and voices go up from the computer, sometimes sounding positive, sometimes not, but through all of it, he maintains the same face, the same indifferent gaze.
"Well," I murmur, feeling odd because of the silence between us. "At least tomorrow's Saturday. So we don't have to go to school."
"True." A pause. "But we have some stuff we need to deal with."
"Like what?"
"We're running out of food."
"Oh." My head rises and dips slowly. "I know."
"We need to go shopping."
Funny how that sounds fun, but it really isn't. It really means scouring grocery shops for things on offer, making use of coupons, and using more money from the family savings - something we don't want to do. But we don't have a choice. "Why don't we go now?"
"In a minute. Let me finish this first."
I roll my eyes, getting up and walking out of his room. In the hallway, I stand uncertainly for a while, wondering what to do until Rob and I can leave.
A little aimlessly, I let myself down the stairs. The house isn't in the best state, so I finally give in and start a much-needed clean-up. When I'm done, I take a long shower, and I'm getting dressed in my room when I hear a knock at the door.
"OK. I'm ready."
A few minutes later, Rob and I are outside the house, locking up. We stride down the walk, going up the street. There are shops some blocks away, and once we get there, we get right to work, not stopping to look at anything nice, at anything we might happen to want.
We go for all the usual essentials - bread, milk, cereal, anything microwavable or equally easy to make. We lose almost fifty bucks, then start trudging home again, sharing the bags between us.
"How long do you think this is going to last?" I ask my twin.
A lost shrug.
"It took me a few days to get to Callville. I wonder .... " I trail off as scenarios whip through my head - my father attacking Mom, my father attacking Gran, my father and Sam fighting again.
I sigh, slumping like a balloon losing air. "I hate this," I murmur. "I hate this waiting, not knowing what's going to happen."
"I know. All we can do is hope for the best." But his words ring hollow. He and I know better than to hope.