Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

DANIEL

"I won't go. You can't make me!" I had yelled at Grandma during one of her more lucid moments. Her memory had only gotten worse over the next few weeks.

"I don't want you to go either, but you have to," she said.

I shook my head. "No! If you wanted me, you wouldn't be giving up on us like this. You'd find a way."

"They're right. I can't take care of you anymore—"

"But I can take care of us!" I had been doing that for months. I was the one making sure the bills were paid on time. I was the one cleaning the house. I was the one making sure Grandma was fed every meal.

Grandma looked down. "No. I'm not going to ask you to do that."

My eyes stung. "Just say it. Say you don't want me anymore."

"I never said that."

"But it's true. You want an excuse to get rid of me."

She never acted like she wanted me around. I was a burden. That's why she never let me have friends or do anything other than studying and doing chores. I thought if I tried hard enough, eventually she'd tell me that I was doing a good job, that she loved me. But maybe she never did.

Grandma tried to reach out to me, but I wouldn't let her touch me. "Leave me alone! You already said you don't want me anymore."

"That's not what I said!"

"If you wanted me, you'd try harder to stop them from taking me!"

I jerk up in bed, breathing heavy with sweaty palms. The red numbers on the alarm clock shine bright. It's not time to get up yet, but I know I won't be able to sleep anymore.

My eyes adjust to the light, letting the rest of the room come into focus. I reach for my clothes sitting on the desk chair next to my bed. I always have my things ready to go—no permanent roots and always ready to flee.

The cool fabric sends a shiver down my back as I pull it over my head. A second later I slip my black hoodie on.

Then I lie back down and stare at the ceiling. I don't like the quiet because I don't like to be alone with my thoughts. My brain replays a never-ending war of emotions. It's too loud. I remember things a little too well. I can picture moments in time from when I was little in perfect detail, but they aren't happy. I don't remember my mom, and Grandma never talked about her. My mom made a lot of bad choices, and sometimes I wonder if Grandma was punishing me because she couldn't punish my mom anymore. I was someone she could take her frustration out on.

When I was little, I used to think I was a bad kid because what mom doesn't love her own child? What did I do to make myself so unlovable?

I shake my head and get up. I need to do something, anything other than what I'm doing right now.

My messenger bag sits at the corner of my bed, and I grab it. I take out my copy of Journey to the Center of the Earth . I thumb through the pages, skimming past my ugly handwriting in the margins until I find a page that's fairly empty. I start writing down the heavy thoughts. My writing isn't fancy or articulate. It's messy and disjointed. I write down all the things I'm afraid to say out loud. I write down my hurt and anger, and then when I'm done, I close the book and pretend my feelings don't matter again.

It might seem silly, but it helps me calm down.

There's no point in sticking around for the rest of the household to get up. I might as well get breakfast and leave for school early. That's the one plus side of taking the city bus to school. It comes three times an hour on the weekdays.

I head to the kitchen to see what I can find that's quick and easy. Laura is a fairly organized person, and everything has a place in her kitchen. I have to admit the pantry is impressive. She has everything from cereal to quinoa in plastic containers, all labeled and put on the shelves to create a uniform look. I grab one of the protein bars she has and turn to leave.

"You're up early," Laura says. She's decked from head to toe in her running gear.

My hand flies to my neck, and I stare at my shoes. "I have something I need to get done before school starts."

Laura checks her watch. "Well, I need to take a quick shower, but I can drive you if you don't mind waiting a minute. I need to head to the gym for my spin class anyway. "

"No. I'll take the bus."

She blinks, surprised by my quick reaction. "I really don't mind."

"I don't have time to wait. I have to head out now," I say.

"Okay," she says. "Maybe tomorrow then."

I give her a slight nod and shuffle past.

"Have a good day," she says.

"Thanks," I mumble right before I'm out of earshot.

The ride to school is peaceful. There's only a handful of people on the bus, and no one is awake enough to talk. The bus driver doesn't even say hi. It's as ideal as it gets. If anything, it's too short. I'd rather stay on the bus like that than enter into the zoo of teenagers we call a school.

Reluctantly, I reach up and tug on the cord when we near my stop.

"Stop requested," says the bus's automated voice.

The bus rolls to a stop, and I hop out the side door.

There are a few people here already, mainly teachers. I don't understand how they all can wake up as early as they do. I would never get up this early by choice.

Once inside, I walk to the library because it seems like the least likely place for other people to be. Reading is another thing I don't often do by choice, but I like the quietness of the library.

I sit at one of the far tables and fold my arms over it, resting my head. Time never seems to pass fast enough, but today it does. Before I know it, the hallways are bustling with students, which is my cue to head to my first class.

I stand, making sure my messenger bag is strapped over my shoulders, and start weaving through the rows of books. I turn the corner and slam right into a girl with a stack of books a mile high .

She shrieks, falling to the ground and scattering the books.

"Sorry," I say, but it's barely above a whisper.

"It's okay. It was my fault." Her face burns red, and she's quick to start patting the ground around her. "I need my glasses."

I kneel down to pick them up. "Here," I say, placing them in her hand. Then I grab the books, stacking them in my arms.

"Thanks." She puts the glasses on and immediately freezes, staring at me.

Right away, I recognize the big brown eyes. They catch me off guard, and I have to do a double take. "Margo?"

"Annie," she whispers. "Margo's sister."

"Oh." I help her up and hand her the books.

"Thank . . . you," she says, eyes still ginormous.

There's a long and awkward pause where I try to figure out what to do next.

"Sorry again," I say.

She nods.

I stagger back, and I swear she watches me walk out.

I head to my locker to put my hoodie away since the school finally decided to turn on the heat, and for some reason they can't figure out how to keep it from turning into a sauna. I pull it over my head and hang it on the hook inside. Then, I close my locker.

Big brown eyes stare directly at me again. "Miss me?"

I jump back, and it takes everything in my power not to yelp.

This time it is Margo. I'm sure of it. Her hair is short, and she has massive cherry earrings. She stands in front of me in a blue dress, flashing a smile from ear to ear .

"No." Why should I?

Her smile twitches. "Oh, well, I guess the feeling is mutual."

And yet she doesn't appear to be leaving anytime soon.

"What's your problem?"

She stands up straighter, smiles brighter, and takes a deep breath. "I have a question for you."

"Which is?" The sooner I answer it, the sooner she'll leave me alone.

"If you could have anything you want right now, what would it be?" she asks.

My answer should be obvious. "For you to leave me alone."

Her nose scrunches up. "Anything...?," she says, holding up a finger, " but that."

This girl is something else. Why does she care what I want? I want to crawl away into some dark hole in the middle of nowhere. I want to go the rest of the day without having anyone talk to me.

I walk away, ignoring her.

She hurries to catch up, running in front of me to block me from walking. "I'm really good at finding things. If there's a baseball card you want to find, I'm your girl. Or if you want me to carry your bag for a week in between classes, I wouldn't mind. I could even bring you homemade lunches. Name it, anything, and I'll do it."

"Go away."

She glares at me, which is hard to take seriously with her ridiculous earrings. She takes a deep breath and goes right back to where she was before. "I could even do your homework for you. That's not something I'd normally do, but I'd make an exception for you this one time. "

She's harder to drown out than Laura. I didn't know that was possible.

"I don't want anything."

She crosses her arms. "Everyone wants something."

"Leave. Me. Alone," I say, flicking her forehead to get her to back up.

Her jaw drops as she reaches up to touch her forehead. "Jerk."

I head to class.

Maybe she'll get the message and stop harassing me.

"I'll figure it out even if you don't tell me," she calls after me.