“Of course.”
“Promise me that you and Eleanor will live your lives to the fullest and feel it all—the good and the bad.”
I leaned against her side. “I promise, Aunt Paige.”
Even when the feelings felt so hard.
* * *
The week Eleanor and her family left Illinois, I still didn’t want to stay at my house. With Mima gone, Dad was walking all over Mom. It was hard to watch her be belittled. It was even harder knowing that she was allowing herself to be spoken to in the way my father spoke to her. I wanted her to be stronger. I didn’t realize how weak she’d become.“Stand up, Mom,”I’d beg, and she would tell me I didn’t understand.
She wasn’t wrong about that—I didn’t understand much about her anymore.
Instead of being at home each night, Landon would show up to my house, and I’d sneak out and go to his place. He’d bring me home before my parents noticed. I didn’t even care if they noticed, though. I was losing a lot of concern about what they thought of me.
When I’d go to Landon’s for the sleepovers, we didn’t do anything. All he did was hold me in his arms. He’d hold me tight when I cried. He’d hold me tighter when I didn’t cry, because he knew my mind was racing when I was completely quiet.
When Landon dropped me off at home one early morning after a difficult night for me, I said, “Thank you for holding me for so long last night.”
He smiled shyly. “I’d hold you forever if you allowed me to.”
24Landon
The days passed by fast, and before I knew it, it was showtime forRomeo and Juliet. The week before the play’s opening weekend, we had a parents’ night event where they came out to watch the performance. We used our parents as a test run before putting on the show. I didn’t even bother telling my parents to come. I was still butt-hurt about them both missing my birthday, and seeing as how they’d been lately, I doubted they would’ve shown up anyway.
Needless to say, everyone else was extremely excited about having an audience. I supposed I was happy about it too. We’d been performing for Mr.Thymes for so long now that it felt stale. I headed to the theater to get ready for the performance as everyone else was chatting and excited backstage.
Shay hurried over to me, and she had the biggest smile on her face. It was good to see her smiling after the tough weeks she’d been going through. That was something I kind of wanted to keep happening—me making her smile.
She wrapped me into a hug; I loved that we hugged all the time now.
“Hey! How are you?” she asked.
“Nervous as ever,” I replied.
She grinned even bigger. “Good.” Right then, her phone dinged. She looked at the message, and I saw some color drain from her eyes.
“All good, Chick?” I asked.
She shook her head. “My dad just said he’s got some things keeping him busy tonight and he can’t make it.” Her eyes slightly glassed over. “Gosh. I hate him. I hate that I want him to be a better person, too. At least my mom and Mima will be here.”
“I’m sorry. If it makes you feel better, my parents aren’t coming either.”
Shay frowned and put a comforting hand against my forearm. “That doesn’t make me feel better at all.”
Me either.
“Hey, fuck them, right? Let’s not do this for them,” I claimed, taking her hand into mine. I kissed the palm of her hand. “Tonight isn’t about our parents. It’s about us. This is ours.”
She sniffled before pulling me into another hug. I felt her relax against me the longer we held the embrace. I liked that I did that to her. I liked that my hold could help ground her anxiety. She had no clue that she did the same for me.
“Thank you, Satan,” she whispered, her face buried into my neck.
“Break a leg, Chick.”
And she did exactly that. We performed the show for the audience, and I couldn’t explain the feeling of excitement I felt being onstage in front of people. I felt as if I’d finally done something in my life that felt right. I felt... home.
Is that what it felt like to have a passion?