Read Online Save the Enemy by Arin Greenwood - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Arin Greenwood
Ads: Link
fucked family.
“I’ll help,” Pete says.
We walk back into the perfect house, filled with the rich and friendly. My brother isn’t in the kitchen, he’s not in the living room. I could call him if he’d carry a cell phone, but he won’t, on the grounds that given the lack of study, he’s not yet convinced that long-term exposure to the radiation won’tcause cancer, and, he says, he has no one to call and can’t think of anyone he’d want to hear from.
Pete goes off upstairs to look. I stay on the bottom floor. Ben is not in the den, where I thought I might find him watching something on the gigantic television, amidst the many books. A girl named Lucille from the lacrosse team is in there with some guy from the class below us.
“You’re here with
Pete
?” she asks me. “I didn’t know you knew him.”
“Kind of,” I say.
“You know Anne’s liked him since second grade,” she says, which of course I didn’t know. I also don’t know how girls at this school react to interlopers. Probably politely.
I walk upstairs, toward a large black and white photograph of a glamorous woman smoking. I open a closed bedroom door, startling some
in flagrante delicto
classmates (Brian Keegan from English class, who says, “Hey Zoey, how’re your psychic powers?” when he sees me—he’s fooling around with a girl I’ve seen around but don’t think I know) but I don’t find my brother. Shit shit shit shit. I run into Pete coming out of the bathroom. Or restroom. Or latrine. Or whatever stupid word rich people use in expensive houses.
“No luck,” he says. He takes my hand as we walk down the stairs and start asking people if they’ve seen Ben.
People ask, “Who?”
“My brother,” I say. “He’s wearing suspenders.”
I’m feeling more and more on the verge of tears. As always, these days—but this time it’s my own fault. I’m so upset about losing my brother I’ve forgotten to be humiliated by wearing stupid clothing.
Why did I bring him here? Why did I even want to be here myself? I don’t get these kids. This is not my world.My father is missing, my dog is missing, I’m wearing Amish clothing, I probably won’t get into college, my mother is dead, my brother—where is my brother?
Pete’s sister finds me. She says that Ben walked out the door some ten minutes earlier, telling her to tell me that he was leaving, going to …
“Georgetown? I think he said Georgetown,” Abby says, shifting in her big silver shoes. She has her hair tied up in a knot on top of her head. “He said there was some lobbyist’s house he had to go to or something. P.F. Chang’s? No, wait, that’s that crappy Chinese restaurant …”
“P.F. Greenawalt,” I say. “Of course.”
“Maybe,” she says. “I don’t really know lobbyists. Just the ones my parents are friends with. MAN, I’m so wasted! Are you so wasted?”
How could I not have known, just immediately, that’s where my brother had gone? All these years of living with Ben and having my deductive logic skills honed via Dad’s constant lectures, and still, I’m a fucking moron. A moron in a bad dress. I go back to find Pete again. He’s in the kitchen, talking to Muffy and Anne.
“You find Ben?” he asks me when I come over.
“He left,” I say to him. “I have to go find him. I really have to go find him. This is a disaster.”
“We’ll go get him. But I’m sure Ben’s fine,” Pete says. “He’s fourteen, right?”
What a comforting thought. No one’s ever talked about my brother before as if he could just be “fine.” I contemplate the idea of it. Then I realize that, like me, he’s got no money with him. He’s got a better sense of direction than I do, at least. If he had to, he could probably walk home. Though he forgets to look both ways when he’s crossing the street, so …
“I think I know where he is.” To get the address, I dig the business card out of my tote bag—a different one from the other
“I’ll help,” Pete says.
We walk back into the perfect house, filled with the rich and friendly. My brother isn’t in the kitchen, he’s not in the living room. I could call him if he’d carry a cell phone, but he won’t, on the grounds that given the lack of study, he’s not yet convinced that long-term exposure to the radiation won’tcause cancer, and, he says, he has no one to call and can’t think of anyone he’d want to hear from.
Pete goes off upstairs to look. I stay on the bottom floor. Ben is not in the den, where I thought I might find him watching something on the gigantic television, amidst the many books. A girl named Lucille from the lacrosse team is in there with some guy from the class below us.
“You’re here with
Pete
?” she asks me. “I didn’t know you knew him.”
“Kind of,” I say.
“You know Anne’s liked him since second grade,” she says, which of course I didn’t know. I also don’t know how girls at this school react to interlopers. Probably politely.
I walk upstairs, toward a large black and white photograph of a glamorous woman smoking. I open a closed bedroom door, startling some
in flagrante delicto
classmates (Brian Keegan from English class, who says, “Hey Zoey, how’re your psychic powers?” when he sees me—he’s fooling around with a girl I’ve seen around but don’t think I know) but I don’t find my brother. Shit shit shit shit. I run into Pete coming out of the bathroom. Or restroom. Or latrine. Or whatever stupid word rich people use in expensive houses.
“No luck,” he says. He takes my hand as we walk down the stairs and start asking people if they’ve seen Ben.
People ask, “Who?”
“My brother,” I say. “He’s wearing suspenders.”
I’m feeling more and more on the verge of tears. As always, these days—but this time it’s my own fault. I’m so upset about losing my brother I’ve forgotten to be humiliated by wearing stupid clothing.
Why did I bring him here? Why did I even want to be here myself? I don’t get these kids. This is not my world.My father is missing, my dog is missing, I’m wearing Amish clothing, I probably won’t get into college, my mother is dead, my brother—where is my brother?
Pete’s sister finds me. She says that Ben walked out the door some ten minutes earlier, telling her to tell me that he was leaving, going to …
“Georgetown? I think he said Georgetown,” Abby says, shifting in her big silver shoes. She has her hair tied up in a knot on top of her head. “He said there was some lobbyist’s house he had to go to or something. P.F. Chang’s? No, wait, that’s that crappy Chinese restaurant …”
“P.F. Greenawalt,” I say. “Of course.”
“Maybe,” she says. “I don’t really know lobbyists. Just the ones my parents are friends with. MAN, I’m so wasted! Are you so wasted?”
How could I not have known, just immediately, that’s where my brother had gone? All these years of living with Ben and having my deductive logic skills honed via Dad’s constant lectures, and still, I’m a fucking moron. A moron in a bad dress. I go back to find Pete again. He’s in the kitchen, talking to Muffy and Anne.
“You find Ben?” he asks me when I come over.
“He left,” I say to him. “I have to go find him. I really have to go find him. This is a disaster.”
“We’ll go get him. But I’m sure Ben’s fine,” Pete says. “He’s fourteen, right?”
What a comforting thought. No one’s ever talked about my brother before as if he could just be “fine.” I contemplate the idea of it. Then I realize that, like me, he’s got no money with him. He’s got a better sense of direction than I do, at least. If he had to, he could probably walk home. Though he forgets to look both ways when he’s crossing the street, so …
“I think I know where he is.” To get the address, I dig the business card out of my tote bag—a different one from the other
Similar Books
