it. And then … the obituary. Like she could quantify it. Find an answer in the passage of time. There was math in the margins. Her trying to assign what she felt on a scale of one to ten. Her comparing it to the time until death. It didn’t belong here anymore. I grabbed it before closing the drawer again.
The front door creaked open. “Decker? Hello?”
She must be kidding.
“Seriously?” I tossed my duffel bag down the stairs and saw it land at her feet. Delaney stood in the open doorway, blocking the sun.
I noticed Maya standing behind her. “Whoa,” Maya said. Delaney sent her a look. And then Maya looked past her, at me. “She’s just helping ,” she said.
Delaney rolled her eyes at Maya, and I kind of wanted to smile. “I’m helping your mom ,” she added.
Delaney held out the key ring on her hand—my mom’s—and said, “My mom sent me over to let in the cleaning crew. The door was already open.” She was already backing away. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”
“You can’t be in here.” A man pushed past both Maya and Delaney into the foyer of my house. One man—so much for a crew. He wore thick black boots and rubber gloves, like thekind my mom used to clean the bathrooms, and he was pulling an industrial-looking vacuum behind him. He had a hospital mask hanging around his neck, and he pulled it up over his mouth as he stepped inside, like this place was contagious.
“I’ll just be a sec,” I said, backing down the hall to my dad’s office.
The office was rancid. Mildewed. The water had come through the ceiling fan, saturating everything. I felt like I should take something. Save something. Do something.
All of it just things. The man watched me rummage around. There was probably some rule against this. My mom said we couldn’t go in until it was declared safe. Something about insurance. “I live here,” I said, just so he knew I wasn’t some thief, and he nodded at me.
Nothing left to save.
“I’m done anyway,” I said as I walked out the front door of what used to be my home.
Maya was standing on my porch—I looked around for Delaney, but it looked like it was just us. She eyed my bag. “What’s that?”
None of her business.
“Clothes,” I said.
“Planning on going somewhere?” She asked it like it was so out of the realm of possibility. Like people didn’t head out on vacation every day. She asked it like she had any right to know about my life. She stepped closer, leaned closer, smiled closer. “Running away?” she asked.
Which implied there was something worth running from.“Uh, no. I need the clothes. And I need a suitcase. I’m going to Boston. On that college trip,” I said.
Our school offered it every year—a bunch of seniors flew to Boston with a few teachers and we toured all the colleges. Delaney had signed up back in June.
“You want to go to school in Boston?” I had asked her as she held the permission form out to me.
“I want us to go to Boston,” she had said. I knew what she was thinking—I wouldn’t get into the same schools as her, there was no way. But there were a lot of schools in Boston. We could still be close.
It was the first time she had talked about something that far away. That she’d want to plan something that far in the future. I kissed her while she was still talking about the form and the cost. I kissed her until we heard her mom walking down the hall.
“There’s a lot of people in Boston,” I said, my voice low as her mom passed the open door (which was a new rule).
She knew exactly what I was worried about. Lots of people meant more people dying, statistically speaking. I knew what it did to her, the way she couldn’t quite focus on anything else. The way she constantly wondered if there was something more she should be doing.
We listened to her mom’s footsteps walk down the stairs, and she leaned closer to me. An inch, maybe less, from my face. “That many people, it’s hard to tell who it
The front door creaked open. “Decker? Hello?”
She must be kidding.
“Seriously?” I tossed my duffel bag down the stairs and saw it land at her feet. Delaney stood in the open doorway, blocking the sun.
I noticed Maya standing behind her. “Whoa,” Maya said. Delaney sent her a look. And then Maya looked past her, at me. “She’s just helping ,” she said.
Delaney rolled her eyes at Maya, and I kind of wanted to smile. “I’m helping your mom ,” she added.
Delaney held out the key ring on her hand—my mom’s—and said, “My mom sent me over to let in the cleaning crew. The door was already open.” She was already backing away. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”
“You can’t be in here.” A man pushed past both Maya and Delaney into the foyer of my house. One man—so much for a crew. He wore thick black boots and rubber gloves, like thekind my mom used to clean the bathrooms, and he was pulling an industrial-looking vacuum behind him. He had a hospital mask hanging around his neck, and he pulled it up over his mouth as he stepped inside, like this place was contagious.
“I’ll just be a sec,” I said, backing down the hall to my dad’s office.
The office was rancid. Mildewed. The water had come through the ceiling fan, saturating everything. I felt like I should take something. Save something. Do something.
All of it just things. The man watched me rummage around. There was probably some rule against this. My mom said we couldn’t go in until it was declared safe. Something about insurance. “I live here,” I said, just so he knew I wasn’t some thief, and he nodded at me.
Nothing left to save.
“I’m done anyway,” I said as I walked out the front door of what used to be my home.
Maya was standing on my porch—I looked around for Delaney, but it looked like it was just us. She eyed my bag. “What’s that?”
None of her business.
“Clothes,” I said.
“Planning on going somewhere?” She asked it like it was so out of the realm of possibility. Like people didn’t head out on vacation every day. She asked it like she had any right to know about my life. She stepped closer, leaned closer, smiled closer. “Running away?” she asked.
Which implied there was something worth running from.“Uh, no. I need the clothes. And I need a suitcase. I’m going to Boston. On that college trip,” I said.
Our school offered it every year—a bunch of seniors flew to Boston with a few teachers and we toured all the colleges. Delaney had signed up back in June.
“You want to go to school in Boston?” I had asked her as she held the permission form out to me.
“I want us to go to Boston,” she had said. I knew what she was thinking—I wouldn’t get into the same schools as her, there was no way. But there were a lot of schools in Boston. We could still be close.
It was the first time she had talked about something that far away. That she’d want to plan something that far in the future. I kissed her while she was still talking about the form and the cost. I kissed her until we heard her mom walking down the hall.
“There’s a lot of people in Boston,” I said, my voice low as her mom passed the open door (which was a new rule).
She knew exactly what I was worried about. Lots of people meant more people dying, statistically speaking. I knew what it did to her, the way she couldn’t quite focus on anything else. The way she constantly wondered if there was something more she should be doing.
We listened to her mom’s footsteps walk down the stairs, and she leaned closer to me. An inch, maybe less, from my face. “That many people, it’s hard to tell who it
Similar Books
