Read Online Trust the Focus by Megan Erickson - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Megan Erickson
Ads: Link
effort. “Sure, Jus. I’ll be waiting for you at Sally.”
“Thanks,” I whispered.
He waved weakly and turned on his heel, hands shoved in his pockets, head down and shoulders slumped as he walked away.
Could I just launch myself over the cliff now? I really wanted a jutting branch to the face.
Instead, I sighed and collapsed on a nearby rock, squinting into the sun with Dad’s ashes on my lap. No one was around. Just me, a marmot or two, and Dad.
So I ran my fingers over the lid of the canister and talked. I said all the things I had planned to tell him after I graduated. When I still had hope.
“I miss you. So much. Every day. I miss your postcards with your barely legible handwriting and funny anecdotes. I miss your presents, not because I actually wanted presents but because it meant you were thinking of me during your trips.” My voice lowered to a whisper. “I miss knowing I had someone in my corner.
“Mom created a home where I couldn’t tell her what I am. Couldn’t be it. Could barely think it. And you created a relationship where I knew you were just waiting for me to be myself.
“And I was going to tell you. I was, I swear, but then college happened and . . . I sort of lost control of my life. So I was going to come clean after I graduated, hoping maybe you’d help me with a life and a job and then . . .” My throat closed. I clacked my teeth together and blinked to hold the tears back. “Then you fucking died.
“And now I’m stuck, right? I mean, what the fuck choice do I have? I don’t know what it would do to Mom’s campaign. I don’t want to be responsible for her losing the election. She’s got employees and . . .” I shook my head and resisted the urge to overarm toss the canister at a rock because he wasn’t fucking answering me.
“I wish you could tell me what to do. I wish I could tell Landry, but God, it’s not so easy anymore. He’d be pissed at me for lying and keeping it from him for this long . . . actually, pissed isn’t the right word. He’d be livid. And he’d have every right to be.” A tear slipped down over my nose and dropped on my jeans. “When did my life get away from me and get this fucked up?”
No answer.
A breeze scattered some dust and pebbles and a bird chirped.
That was the only response to me spilling my guts.
***
When I reached Landry, he was fiddling around with Sally, checking the tire pressure or something, judging by his crouch at a back tire. He took one look at my puffy eyes and pressed his lips tight. I walked past him without a word and listened for his footsteps behind me as I stepped up into the RV. They followed.
I didn’t deserve for Landry to remain steadfast by my side. I should tell him to catch a bus and go home.
But I kept my mouth shut for the thousandth time in my life.
We continued driving, and we made it into Kansas as the sky had darkened, mirroring my mood. We found a truck stop to pull over for the night. I flipped some frozen burgers in a pan and we ate in silence. Until Landry broke it.
“So, did you like the shots you got today?”
“I guess.” I poked at my bun. The bottom was soggy. I hated that.
“You wanna look through them? You can tell me which one to post—”
I stood up, threw my uneaten burger in the trash, and then tossed my melamine plate in the sink. The clatter of it on the stainless steel echoed in the small cabin of the RV. Landry flinched. “Just pick whatever you want. I don’t care.”
Landry’s face paled. “Justin, don’t get mad, but I need to ask. Did I do something or is this trip just taking a toll on you . . .”
His voice trailed off and I hated the uncertainty I put there. “It’s not always about you. I lost my fucking Dad, Landry.”
If I had a nickel for every time I made Landry flinch in the last couple of days, I’d be rich.
This time, he didn’t back down. “Look, I’m sorry. But I don’t know this Justin. I wish you would talk to
“Thanks,” I whispered.
He waved weakly and turned on his heel, hands shoved in his pockets, head down and shoulders slumped as he walked away.
Could I just launch myself over the cliff now? I really wanted a jutting branch to the face.
Instead, I sighed and collapsed on a nearby rock, squinting into the sun with Dad’s ashes on my lap. No one was around. Just me, a marmot or two, and Dad.
So I ran my fingers over the lid of the canister and talked. I said all the things I had planned to tell him after I graduated. When I still had hope.
“I miss you. So much. Every day. I miss your postcards with your barely legible handwriting and funny anecdotes. I miss your presents, not because I actually wanted presents but because it meant you were thinking of me during your trips.” My voice lowered to a whisper. “I miss knowing I had someone in my corner.
“Mom created a home where I couldn’t tell her what I am. Couldn’t be it. Could barely think it. And you created a relationship where I knew you were just waiting for me to be myself.
“And I was going to tell you. I was, I swear, but then college happened and . . . I sort of lost control of my life. So I was going to come clean after I graduated, hoping maybe you’d help me with a life and a job and then . . .” My throat closed. I clacked my teeth together and blinked to hold the tears back. “Then you fucking died.
“And now I’m stuck, right? I mean, what the fuck choice do I have? I don’t know what it would do to Mom’s campaign. I don’t want to be responsible for her losing the election. She’s got employees and . . .” I shook my head and resisted the urge to overarm toss the canister at a rock because he wasn’t fucking answering me.
“I wish you could tell me what to do. I wish I could tell Landry, but God, it’s not so easy anymore. He’d be pissed at me for lying and keeping it from him for this long . . . actually, pissed isn’t the right word. He’d be livid. And he’d have every right to be.” A tear slipped down over my nose and dropped on my jeans. “When did my life get away from me and get this fucked up?”
No answer.
A breeze scattered some dust and pebbles and a bird chirped.
That was the only response to me spilling my guts.
***
When I reached Landry, he was fiddling around with Sally, checking the tire pressure or something, judging by his crouch at a back tire. He took one look at my puffy eyes and pressed his lips tight. I walked past him without a word and listened for his footsteps behind me as I stepped up into the RV. They followed.
I didn’t deserve for Landry to remain steadfast by my side. I should tell him to catch a bus and go home.
But I kept my mouth shut for the thousandth time in my life.
We continued driving, and we made it into Kansas as the sky had darkened, mirroring my mood. We found a truck stop to pull over for the night. I flipped some frozen burgers in a pan and we ate in silence. Until Landry broke it.
“So, did you like the shots you got today?”
“I guess.” I poked at my bun. The bottom was soggy. I hated that.
“You wanna look through them? You can tell me which one to post—”
I stood up, threw my uneaten burger in the trash, and then tossed my melamine plate in the sink. The clatter of it on the stainless steel echoed in the small cabin of the RV. Landry flinched. “Just pick whatever you want. I don’t care.”
Landry’s face paled. “Justin, don’t get mad, but I need to ask. Did I do something or is this trip just taking a toll on you . . .”
His voice trailed off and I hated the uncertainty I put there. “It’s not always about you. I lost my fucking Dad, Landry.”
If I had a nickel for every time I made Landry flinch in the last couple of days, I’d be rich.
This time, he didn’t back down. “Look, I’m sorry. But I don’t know this Justin. I wish you would talk to
Similar Books
