Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

DANIEL

There's a timid knock at the door, one I've come to resent.

"Breakfast is ready," Laura says.

I peel myself off my bed, eyes bloodshot from my lack of sleep. No matter how hard I try, I can never rest here.

It's not my room.

I have a new backpack, one with padded straps and so many pockets I've lost count, but I reach for my beat-up messenger bag instead. I don't need anything new or fancy. What I had before was fine.

I slip out of my room to see Laura waiting patiently in the hallway with a brown sack and a bagel.

"Here," she says, holding it out.

I've skipped so many meals that now she's resorted to surprise attacks. She puts the food in my hands, and before I have time to argue, Olive comes out of her room.

"Ah, I see the devil has risen," she says, eyeing me with a smile.

"Olive, behave," Laura replies .

I push past them and head for the front door. I don't want to go to school, but it's better than being stuck here where I'm expected to be grateful for them taking me in. I'm not oblivious to the reason they took me in. They felt guilty. They knew I had nowhere else to go.

"Wait for Olive," Laura calls after me.

I scoff as I walk down the porch. The bus stop isn't far, but it's strange. I've never taken the city bus to school before living here. I always rode one of the ugly yellow ones, so I'm still getting used to using the city bus instead.

The bus comes barreling down the road and stops next to me. The doors open, but my attention is elsewhere. Olive is still a good thirty feet away.

"Getting on?" the bus driver asks.

I turn back toward the bus and climb in, and a part of me doesn't want to say anything. But as I scan the back of my card, I say, "My cousin is still coming. She'll be here in just a second."

The bus driver looks in their mirror and nods.

I walk toward the back of the bus and sit down on one of the hard blue seats. Olive comes in and immediately the bus begins to roll again. I watch as she passes all the front seats even though it's hard to stay balanced walking to the back.

She sits next to me, and I shift closer to the wall.

"You know," she says, pausing, "if I wanted to take the bus, I'd leave on time."

"What?"

"Don't tell the driver to wait for me. I'd rather miss it and have Mom drive me."

She can't be serious.

"I'd way rather have heated seats and music." She sighs. Then, I follow her gaze to my bagel. She grabs it, taking a big bite out of the side even though we're not supposed to eat on the bus.

I stare at her, wordless.

"Sorry," she mumbles through the mouthful. "Do you want the rest?"

Is she really asking me if I want my half-eaten bagel back?

I shake my head. "No. I'm good."

"Your loss," she says.

"Does Josh bother you a lot?" I ask, remembering how Josh put his arms around her. I wanted to ask her sooner, but hadn't had the chance to yet.

"I can handle Josh. He's not that bad."

"What does that mean?"

"Forget it. I'm pretty sure you scared him off anyway."

I don't know whether or not to believe her, but I'm too tired to keep asking questions. I stare out the window to clear my head.

My first period class is physics, and it's my least favorite. I can't help but drift off to sleep every time the teacher starts talking. When am I ever going to get a job where I need to know how light waves bend around objects? I'm not one of those people with a long list of ambitions. I don't even plan on going to college. Just give me my diploma, and I'll work at a gas station in the middle of nowhere for all I care.

Today is no different. There's a high probability I'm wrong, but I think we're talking about something to do with kinetic energy. Again, I'm probably wrong considering I haven't paid attention since the moment I first walked in .

My head is buried in my arms as I lean on the desk. My eyes are heavy, and I lose myself in my dreams, or nightmares... if I'm being honest.

It's always the same day, the day Grandma wandered off. There had been other times when she couldn't remember where she was going or went looking for Mom even though Mom was dead, but this was the first time I couldn't fix it. She left while I was at school, and I came home to an empty home. At first I thought she had gone out to buy groceries even though I had begged her not to leave the house without me, but her wallet and phone were on the counter.

I went out searching for her, calling her name at the top of my lungs, but I couldn't find her. After two hours of looking for her, I came home and saw a cop car parked in front of our house. Grandma was getting out of the back.

"Grandma!" I called, wiping any trace of tears away from my face. I collapsed into her, squeezing her tight. "Where were you?"

"I went on a walk. Everyone is overreacting," she said.

The police officer's gaze drifted to our house. "Ma'am, is there anyone else I can talk to at home?"

Grandma shook her head. "It's just us. This is my grandson, Daniel."

The officer smiled at me, but I could see the wheels turning in his head as he took in our run-down home. The grass was tall, and the gutter needed to be fixed. Not to mention the poorly patched roof.

"Ma'am, I'd like to speak with Daniel for a moment."

Grandma nodded. "Don't cause any trouble," she told me as she went inside.

Then the officer sat down on our porch .

I refused to sit because I could sense an uneasiness in the air between us. I wanted to stand my ground and look firm.

"Are your parents around?"

I shook my head. "My mom died when I was little, and I don't know who my father is."

"No other family?"

"Not any that's close. It's just us."

He sucked in a breath. "How often does your grandma forget things?"

"This is the first time something like this has ever happened." I thought if I said it enough, it would be believable.

"She doesn't forget who people are or where she's going?"

"Never." It wasn't true. She'd been forgetting things every single day. Sometimes she'd get upset when I corrected her, so on most days I went along with her broken memories, playing whatever part I needed to in order to keep her happy.

"It might be a good idea for her to see a doctor just to make sure this isn't something that's become a larger problem."

"Yeah, we can do that," I said, trying to finish our conversation and get him out of there.

"Danny," Grandma said, poking her head back outside.

"What is it?" I asked.

"When will your mom be home from work?" she asked.

My heart sank as the officer looked between us with his eyebrow raised.

"It'll be awhile," I said, head hanging low, knowing I wasn't going to be able to talk my way out of this. I just told the officer my mom died. It was blatantly obvious that Grandma was forgetting .

Most days she knew my mom was gone, but she was forgetting more and more often. Every time I told her the truth, I saw her relive my mom's death. Sometimes it was easier to pretend that Mom was just out...

The next day CPS knocked on our door.