Page 4 of Crashing Waves


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"Yeah, no problem. Hey, you wanna come over sometime? I just got my cousin's old Super Nintendo."

Super Nintendo. I had never played a video game before. Dad didn't like them. He thought they were a bad influence, a distraction from whatever was important. Mom just thought they were a waste of money. But I knew about them, and they looked like fun. I quickly ran through the ways I could sneak over to Ricky's house to check it out.

"Um, yeah," I said, nodding. "That'd be cool. Um … when do you want me to come over?"

Ricky shrugged and hoisted his backpack straps higher onto his shoulders. "I mean, whenever you want. What about today?"

My brain quickly computed, dropping the pieces into place. I was heading to the library after school, as usual. I was going to finish reading the last book in The Chronicles of Narnia. But if I went to Ricky's house instead of the library, then my father wouldn't know. He'd have no clue as long as I was back home at the same time as I always was.

It could work. Ithadto work.

"Yeah," I said, licking my lips as my palms began to sweat. "Today would be good."

So, withDraculanestled in my backpack, I walked with Ricky to his house after school. I didn't think I stopped smiling the whole way there. We joked around,laughed, and ran down the sidewalk so fast that I tripped and bumped into a woman walking her dog.

"Watch where you're going!" she yelled at me, scowling.

"Sorry!" I shouted, running after Ricky and cackling when I caught up to him.

Oh my gosh, I had never felt so full oflife. I had never felt so much like akid. And when that thought popped into my head as we turned to race up the path to his front door, an ache pressed against my chest so hard and deep, and I didn't know what it meant. Why did it hurt so much when I was so happy?

Ricky led the way up the gravel pathway to what I figured to be his front door. As he fitted his key into the lock, I took a second to take in the sight of the small house. It wasn’t as big as mine, and it wasn’t as nice. The paint was peeling off the siding, and the screen in the door I helped to hold open had a hole in it. But there were flowers in the yard and in planters hanging from the porch and in pots at the end of every step. There were at least a dozen little gnomes in bright red hats, a stone turtle, a family of plastic geese, and several pink flamingos—all scattered throughout the yard. Beside the front steps was a dirty old bench with a watering can, worn gloves, and a bucket of gardening tools, along with two bikes—Ricky’s and his mom’s, I guessed.

It was unorderly and chaotic—something Dad would hate—but it feltalive, like a real family lived here, and that made me happy … and very, very jealous.

Ricky threw the door open and called, "Mom! I'm home!"

"Hey, kiddo! You hungry?"

Ricky looked over his shoulder and raised his brows, like he was asking me a question. I looked back at him, unsure of what to say, until he asked, "Are you hungry?"

"Oh."

I blew out a breath and ran through another equation in my head. I hadn't eaten since lunch, and I hadn't brought much in my brown paper bag. Iwashungry, so the thought of eating something now sounded great. But if Idideat, I was unlikely to eat all of my dinner later. Dad would yell at me for wasting food and make me skip breakfast and take whatever it was I hadn’t eaten for lunch the next day as punishment.But, on the other hand, if I forced myself to eat all of it, I'd go to bed feeling sick.But… maybe if I just ate alittlebit of something now …

"Yeah, I, um … I'm kinda hungry."

With a grin, Ricky told me to follow him, and we walked into a kitchen, where a round lady sat at the table, reading a magazine. Her cheeks were rosy, and her eyes were bright and happy the moment she saw Ricky.

"How was school, kiddo?" she asked as he dumped his backpack on the table.

Dad would beat me for putting my backpack anywhere but in my room.

"Stupid," he grumbled before glancing at me. "Right, Max?"

His mom noticed me then, and her smile widened. "Oh, I didn't realize you’d brought a friend home! I'm sorry. What is your name, honey?"

"Um, Max Tailor, ma'am."

Her brows lifted with surprise. "Oh, hon, call me Janice."

I shifted uncomfortably on the spot. Dad had told me I wasn't allowed to call adults by their first names. He said it was disrespectful toward my elders and a sin in the eyes of God. Ricky's mom must've noticed my discomfort because she tipped her head and dropped her smile.

"OrMrs. Tomson works. That would be okay too."

I smiled, sighing with relief. "Okay, Mrs. Tomson."

She watched me for a few seconds, and that made me uncomfortable too. Not that she was watching me, but I could tell she wasthinking, and I was filled with the need to hide or run away or something. What was she thinking about? What did she see? Did she have X-ray vision, like in some of the sci-fi books I had read? Could she see the bruises on my back and down my thighs?