“That was a night I could have left her. I should have been here. Greg should have been in his house, and you wouldn’t be sitting here now, crying. My mom, she’s hurt so bad now, and I—”
Mom pushed back her chair and walked to him. At first she just put a hand on his shoulder, and then the other came up to grip his arm. I could tell it was hard for her.
“I’m sorry,” Daniel mumbled, so quietly that I had to lean forward to hear. “I’m sorry he’s gone, and I’m even more sorry that you’re hurting when I could have stopped it.”
It looked like it killed her to fall into the chair beside him and wrap her arms around him. Her whole body was shaking.
He struggled at first, and he was big enough that he could have pushed her off if he wanted to, but he didn’t. He let her hold him and press his head to her shoulder, heedless of her own tears.
“It’s okay,” she said. “I love you, and it’s going to be okay. It’s not your fault.” Her gaze lifted to the ceiling. “It’s going to be okay.”
My fingers felt stiff when I pried them free of the banister behind me, and it wasn’t until she said, “I’m going to try to be okay, too,” that the tight coils of his body and mine began to loosen.
Adam:
How is it only Monday?
Jolene:
Because yesterday was Sunday?
Adam:
I was thinking maybe we could ditch school again this week. Your friend still dating that guy?
Jolene:
I honestly don’t know. We’re not talking.
Adam:
I know you’ve been trying to get through to her. That must suck.
Jolene:
I’m trying not to think about it.
Adam:
I don’t suppose you have any other friends we could bribe to drive us somewhere?
Jolene:
Not really.
Adam:
I might be able to hit up one of mine. Gideon, you met him at the dance, just got his grandfather’s old car. I could ask him.
Jolene:
My mom’s been home a lot so I’m not sure I could intercept the call from my school if I skip class.
Adam:
You’ll think of something.
Jolene:
Nothing’s coming to mind.
Adam:
Nothing?
Jolene:
Sorry.
Adam:
What about after school? Gideon might be okay with that.
Jolene:
I need to go to Gabe’s to finish the music video.
Adam:
Not every day though, right?
Jolene:
Then I’m at home working on the video of us.
Adam:
Right.
Jolene:
You okay?
Adam:
I feel like something’s been off between us.
Jolene:
Like...?
Adam:
You haven’t made fun of me this entire conversation.
Jolene:
I’m not being mean to you so you assume something is wrong?
Adam:
Is it?
Jolene:
You’re focusing on your family. I get that.
Adam:
I hate not seeing you.
Jolene:
How quickly he forgets Valentine’s Day.
Adam:
Trust me, I will never forget Valentine’s Day.
Jolene:
I loved that pastry thing.
Adam:
I know. I could taste it every time I kissed you that day. I loved that you’re reading LOTR.
Jolene:
See? We’re fine.
Adam:
It’s not always gonna be like this. I need things to get a little better with my dad, then we’ll have more time together.
Jolene:
Before or after I leave for my film program?
Adam:
I’m trying, okay?
Jolene:
I know. And I’m not mad.
Adam:
You can be mad.
Jolene:
That’s your thing, not mine.
Adam:
Then be something. You don’t hate this?
Jolene:
It’s not awesome.
Adam:
I hate not seeing you.
Jolene:
My dad’s apartment is in the same place it’s always been.
Adam:
I know. I hate that, too. You’re right there and I’m not.
Jolene:
Yeah.
Adam:
I guess I’ll see you in 11 days.
Jolene:
I guess so.
THIRTEENTH WEEKEND
March 12–14
ADAM
“Hey. Hey!”
It took Jeremy elbowing me to get my attention.
“Did you hear anything I said?”
I hadn’t heard much of anything since leaving our house twenty minutes ago. The sun was setting and Jeremy and I were driving his car to Dad’s since Mom had finally gotten hers fixed and no longer needed to drop us off.
“I said if you’re already going to be this miserable with me and Dad this weekend, then take a few hours and see your girl.”
“I told you I was in this. I promised.” And Jolene was acting like she couldn’t care less if we saw each other at all. Even her texts felt distant lately.
“‘In it’ doesn’t mean twenty-four hours a day all weekend. Show up when we eat and don’t be gone from the second you wake up to the second you go to bed. It’s called balance, moron.”
I didn’t feel like laughing—and I’d never laughed at an insult from Jeremy before—but one corner of my mouth lifted. I was still getting used to talking with him more. Sometimes it took days before I could force myself to tell him important things, but I still did. He’d been both pumped and pissed when I told him about Daniel coming over and talking with Mom. He was mad because he hadn’t gotten to see Daniel, but more than that, he saw the same potential in Mom’s last words that I had.