“I don’t have words.” I truly don’t.
“There’s more.” He points over his shoulder to the building.
I grin at him, actually feeling excited and more than a little happy that I texted him today. “Show me.”
He takes my hand. “Come on, Meadows. If this doesn’t make you want to be an artist nothing will.”
It takes us three hours to explore the whole building. Ansel, no doubt, has been numerous times and knows every detail but he never encourages me to hurry up. Instead, it’s like he’s seeing it for the first time too.
Sage starts blowing up my phone once he’s home, despite me texting him numerous times to let him know I’m okay, so I ask Ansel to take me home instead of grabbing a bite to eat like we planned.
“I’m sorry about my brother,” I apologize, undoing my seatbelt when he parks in front of the condo building.
“It’s fine.” He seems to truly mean it. “You live with your brother, then?”
I didn’t think about this part, about what potentially gaining friends might mean. Yeah, sure, the school shooting got plenty of media coverage but it’s the killer’s name that was always on their lips as well as those who died that day. The survivors, we didn’t matter, we still don’t. We exist out here and no one knows who we are or understands what we lived through.
“Um, yeah.”
“That’s cool. What about your parents?”
It’s a normal enough question, but it spears through me like a physical lancing. “They’re gone.”
His lips downturn. “Like on vacation?”
I laugh humorlessly, leaning my head against the headrest I let my head drop to the left to meet his confused stare. “A permanent one.”
His confusion deepens before bleeding into horror. “Fuck, I’m the worst. I’m sorry, Meadows.”
“It is what it is.” That’s what I keep telling myself anyway. As if I repeat those five words enough the reality will hurt less. “Thank you for today.” I mean it, too. His eyes soften and I know he can tell I’m being honest.
“You’re welcome.”
“I better go before my brother loses his shit even more.”
Sure enough, my phone vibrates with another text. I wave the device around.
“I’ll text you later.”
“Okay. Thanks again.” I hop out and close the door behind me. He pulls away as I head inside.
I cross the lobby and get in the elevator.
Me: I’m heading up. Cool your jets big bro.
The elevator dings when I reach the floor and I hop off, heading down the long hall. Before I can pull my key out the door swings open.
“I’m not good at this whole parenting thing,” Sage blurts. “I thought I’d be fine to do my thing and know you were out with a friend. But no. I’m a disgruntled mother hen.” He throws his arms in the air, stepping aside so I can come in. “Next time, I’m meeting this friend first. What’s her name again?”
“Uh…” I bite my lip, because Ansel is definitely not a her. I didn’t purposely keep that information from Sage, it didn’t even cross my mind that it might matter. “Ansel.”
“Is that a girl’s name?”
“I’m sure it can be,” I hedge, opening the refrigerator to grab a bottle of water. Unscrewing the cap I take a sip.
“Can be? Meaning in this instance it’s not?”
He pinches his brow. “Fuck I am a failure at being a guardian. I let you spend the day with a boy, a teenage boy, and didn’t even think until now to ask about it.”