out of me in one big wave of disappointment.
“Wow,” he says. “Don’t sound too excited to see me or anything.”
“No,” I say. “I’m not… I mean, I just…I thought it was going to be Cam.”
At the mention of Cam’s name, a cloud passes over Brody’s face, but it’s only for a split second, and then it’s gone. “Why?” he asks. “Is everything okay?”
I shake my head no, and he takes a step toward me. But before I can say anything else, the sound of angry footsteps comes echoing through the front hall.
My mom’s like a woman possessed, her eyes flashing, her stride heavy and purposeful. I step away from the door, but when she sees that it’s Brody, her face instantly softens. As much as I was disappointed to see Brody, my mom is relieved.
“Brody,” she says. “What a nice surprise. What are you doing here?”
“Hi, Ms. Moore,” he says. “Nice to see you again.”
“Please,” she says. “Call me Beth.”
I sigh.
“I was just coming over to make sure Natalia was okay,” Brody says. “I’d been trying her cell all weekend and I couldn’t reach her, so I figured I’d stop by. I’m sorry it’s so late on a school night. I just got worried.”
“Oh, no, no, that’s fine,” my mom says. “You’re sweet to check on her. Would you like to come in and have a snack?”
Brody looks at me and raises his eyebrows, asking me if it’s okay. Suddenly, out of nowhere, I want Brody to stay. He’s one of the only people I can talk to about what’s been going on, and if I can’t talk to Cam, he’s second best.
“Yeah,” I say. “You should stay.”
“Please,” my mom says. “I have a chocolate cake I made yesterday.”
“Okay,” he says, and gives me a smile before slipping in the door.
***
Twenty minutes later, with empty plates of cake and drained glasses of milk on the table in front of us, my mom stands up.
“Well,” she says, stretching her arms out behind her. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a Dancing with the Stars on the DVR.”
“You sure you want to admit that, Mom?” I ask. I fork up a stray crumb of cake that’s left on my plate. I didn’t think I would be able to eat, but the chocolate tasted amazing, and I ended up having two pieces.
“It’s my one guilty pleasure, Brody,” she says. “And I’m only able to watch it on my nights off. So don’t tell me who gets voted off if you already know.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Brody says. He gets up and helps her start clearing the table. Once the dishes are in the sink and my mom’s gone back to the TV, the whole vibe in the dining room changes. Before, when my mom was here, it was like Brody and I were playing roles and trying act like everything was fine. My mom was playing along, too, probably figuring that if I wanted Brody to know what was going on, I would tell him myself. It felt forced, but it also felt good in some weird way, because I could pretend that everything was normal.
“So where have you been?” Brody asks nonchalantly. His tone is the same as it was when my mom was here and they were making small talk -- friendly, polite, inquiring. But I know he’s asking a lot more than just where I was this weekend.
“Let’s go in the living room,” I say, standing up. Once we’re there, I sit down on the couch, expecting him to take a seat in the chair across from me. But instead, he sits down next to me, so close that his leg is touching mine.
“Natalia,” he says, looking into my eyes. “What’s going on?”
I don’t know if I can tell him. I think I can trust him, but I’m not sure. And it feels wrong somehow, sitting here with Brody, telling him things that I should be telling Cam. Then again, I’m not allowed to talk to Cam. And even though Cam and Brody have had their issues, my gut tells me that deep down, Brody’s a good guy.
“I don’t know if I can talk about it,” I say. But then, a second later, it’s all coming out. The whole thing. How I woke
“Wow,” he says. “Don’t sound too excited to see me or anything.”
“No,” I say. “I’m not… I mean, I just…I thought it was going to be Cam.”
At the mention of Cam’s name, a cloud passes over Brody’s face, but it’s only for a split second, and then it’s gone. “Why?” he asks. “Is everything okay?”
I shake my head no, and he takes a step toward me. But before I can say anything else, the sound of angry footsteps comes echoing through the front hall.
My mom’s like a woman possessed, her eyes flashing, her stride heavy and purposeful. I step away from the door, but when she sees that it’s Brody, her face instantly softens. As much as I was disappointed to see Brody, my mom is relieved.
“Brody,” she says. “What a nice surprise. What are you doing here?”
“Hi, Ms. Moore,” he says. “Nice to see you again.”
“Please,” she says. “Call me Beth.”
I sigh.
“I was just coming over to make sure Natalia was okay,” Brody says. “I’d been trying her cell all weekend and I couldn’t reach her, so I figured I’d stop by. I’m sorry it’s so late on a school night. I just got worried.”
“Oh, no, no, that’s fine,” my mom says. “You’re sweet to check on her. Would you like to come in and have a snack?”
Brody looks at me and raises his eyebrows, asking me if it’s okay. Suddenly, out of nowhere, I want Brody to stay. He’s one of the only people I can talk to about what’s been going on, and if I can’t talk to Cam, he’s second best.
“Yeah,” I say. “You should stay.”
“Please,” my mom says. “I have a chocolate cake I made yesterday.”
“Okay,” he says, and gives me a smile before slipping in the door.
***
Twenty minutes later, with empty plates of cake and drained glasses of milk on the table in front of us, my mom stands up.
“Well,” she says, stretching her arms out behind her. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a Dancing with the Stars on the DVR.”
“You sure you want to admit that, Mom?” I ask. I fork up a stray crumb of cake that’s left on my plate. I didn’t think I would be able to eat, but the chocolate tasted amazing, and I ended up having two pieces.
“It’s my one guilty pleasure, Brody,” she says. “And I’m only able to watch it on my nights off. So don’t tell me who gets voted off if you already know.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Brody says. He gets up and helps her start clearing the table. Once the dishes are in the sink and my mom’s gone back to the TV, the whole vibe in the dining room changes. Before, when my mom was here, it was like Brody and I were playing roles and trying act like everything was fine. My mom was playing along, too, probably figuring that if I wanted Brody to know what was going on, I would tell him myself. It felt forced, but it also felt good in some weird way, because I could pretend that everything was normal.
“So where have you been?” Brody asks nonchalantly. His tone is the same as it was when my mom was here and they were making small talk -- friendly, polite, inquiring. But I know he’s asking a lot more than just where I was this weekend.
“Let’s go in the living room,” I say, standing up. Once we’re there, I sit down on the couch, expecting him to take a seat in the chair across from me. But instead, he sits down next to me, so close that his leg is touching mine.
“Natalia,” he says, looking into my eyes. “What’s going on?”
I don’t know if I can tell him. I think I can trust him, but I’m not sure. And it feels wrong somehow, sitting here with Brody, telling him things that I should be telling Cam. Then again, I’m not allowed to talk to Cam. And even though Cam and Brody have had their issues, my gut tells me that deep down, Brody’s a good guy.
“I don’t know if I can talk about it,” I say. But then, a second later, it’s all coming out. The whole thing. How I woke
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