His words, not mine.
I guessed he wasn't wrong about that. I could've easily gotten a scholarship to just about any school of my choice. I could've gone away to college, majored in something impressive, and lived it up miles and miles away. Partying, making friends, sleeping with girls … all without my father's watchful eye looming over my shoulder.
But it would've been a waste.
Just as Dad had said, I didn't have any interests, apart from reading. I didn't have any academic desires. The one and only thing I wanted in my life was to leave and for my sisters to be okay while I was gone. That was all.
Well …
Maybe it wasn't theonlything I wanted, but it was the only thing I could have. It was the onlyobtainablething.
Especially when Laura had kept her promise.
I hadn’t spoken to her again after prom. She never sat with us at lunch, never snuck a peek at me in the hallway, never took a chance at meeting with me after school. She had been a ghost, barely an apparition that materialized through the corner of my eye every so often, only to disappear when I turned to glance.
But it’s for the better, I told myself as I packed for basic training, and it was. But that didn't make it hurt any less.
The day before I was scheduled to leave, Ricky risked showing up at my doorstep.
I had seen him come up the walkway and hoped he'd think better of it and turn around, but the bastard actually rang the doorbell, and one of my sisters must've answered because Dad was at work and Mom hadn't yet left her bedroom.
I flopped backward onto my bed, squeezed my eyes shut, and prayed he'd give up and leave.
But the next thing I knew, Grace was calling up the stairs, "Max? Some guy is here!"
I thought about calling back, thought about telling her to make him leave. I didn't want an awkward send-off before I left for ten weeks. I didn't want him to say some stuff that wouldn't make any difference in my leaving or not. I didn't want him to tell me about how heartbroken Laura was … even if she had said she'd never speak or think of me again. I just wanted to go as peacefully as I could, knowing damn well my sisters wouldn't allow that to happen without some tears shed.
"Max!" she called again, and then there were murmurs from downstairs.
Her voice. Lucy's voice, with a slightly more nasally cadence due to her deviated septum. Then Ricky's voice rumbled something, and my sisters both giggled.
I huffed over the exchange and rolled out of bed. My feet thundered down the hallway, not caring if Mom's sleep or whatever she was doing was interrupted, and I descended the staircase.
Then there was Ricky, standing in the living room. He looked out of place, being here, in my house. Everything felt out of place. I wasn't supposed to have friends here. I wasn't supposed to have friends, period. God, if Dad suddenly came home and saw him standing there …
"What are you doing here?" I demanded, brows lowered over my eyes.
He offered an apologetic smile, like he understood. Of course he did. He knew about the situation with my dad—or at least the surface of it—and that should've been enough! What if he had been home? It was reckless, andRicky must have known that, right? And if he did, what kind of—
"I made sure his car wasn't here," he said, skipping the greetings, as I had.
I glanced out the open front door toward the driveway. Of course. There was only one car. Mom hardly ever drove, and I didn't drive at all.
"I just wanted to say goodbye," he added ruefully.
"I'll be back in ten weeks," I muttered, finally leaving the last step to enter the living room.
He stuffed his hands into his jeans pockets and huffed a humorless chuckle. "Yeah, but … not really."
He was right again. The plan was, I’d get a pass to see my sisters for a few days before heading for Advanced Individual Training, making sure they were okay, and then depart once again. I didn't even know if I'd be able to see him during my time back home or how long my pass would even be approved for—the shorter, the better, as far as I was concerned. Enough to check on my sisters and ensure my father was holding up his end of the bargain—that, in my absence, he was letting them live their lives in peace.
And then … I would be gone for a year, give or take. And after that, who knew?
Moving from base to base.
Deployment.
War.
