Dead to You by Lisa McMann

set it upright, unable to look at Mama. I feel like I let her down. And everybody else just sits there, shocked. I don’t think they’re used to family dinners like this.
    Gracie breaks the silence. I can see her eyes tearing up. “That was scary,” she says. Her lip quivers. And then she starts crying.
    Fuck.
    “He punched me,” I say, defending myself, and I feel like I’m babbling, but I have to say something. I have to explain. “He punched me first, like, totally out of the blue. I didn’t hurt him. I didn’t even laugh at him.” And now I’m scared too. I rub my sore shoulder as Mama and Dad look at each other, silently discussing with their eyes what to do next.
    “Stay put,” Dad says calmly. He and Mama get up to go talk privately, leaving their food, and it’s just me and Gracie left at the table.
    She looks at me, all blubbery and scared.
    “I’m sorry, Gracie. I didn’t hurt him, okay? He startled me when he punched me and I just reacted. I’m sorry you’re scared.”
    She just sits there, sad-faced.
    A minute later, Blake’s door opens wide and he starts throwing shit out into the hallway. All my stuff—my clothes, my backpack, my shoes. He’s cussing, yelling crazy things.
    Gracie covers her ears. And I can hear Dad coming.
    I look at Gracie and shake my head, pushing my chair back. “Sorry, kid,” I say. “I gotta go.” And I feel bad. I do.
    I slip out to the mudroom, grab my coat and hat, shove my feet in my boots, and I’m out the door.

CHAPTER 26
     
    From the street, I glance up at the big picture window, and there’s Gracie, nose pressed against it, her little hands cupped around her eyes, peering out at me. The snow is coming down hard, and there’s at least six fresh inches on the roads since the last snowplow came through this afternoon. I’m worked up enough to not be freezing quite yet, but I know I won’t make it out here for long.
    Not to mention, I still don’t really know my way around. But I do know there’s a gas station nearby. I head that way. Maybe I can hang out there for a while.
    My thighs are nearly numb by the time I get there, but I manage to feel the vibration of my cell phone in my pocket. I’m still not used to that. Anyway, I figure it’s Mama. Gracie would have told them by now.
    But it’s not Mama.
    It’s not Blake, or Dad.
    It’s a text from Cami.
    What r u doing?
    My thumbs are numb. And I’m really slow at this. Plus, the guy at the counter is giving me the hairy eyeball.
    nothing just wandering around
    It takes me a long minute to type it, and my nose is dripping. I shove the phone back into my pocket and pretend to look at milk in the refrigerator case.
    In a ridiculously short amount of time, she replies.
    we need 2 talk
    I move to the chip aisle, staying in plain sight of the clerk so he doesn’t freak out. I write back:
    I’m coming over, k?
    And I don’t wait for her reply. I take off out the door, not too fast, so I don’t look suspicious. On the way to Cami’s, working against the snow and wind, my phone buzzes again. It’s Dad. I don’t want to answer, but I know they’ll keep calling. They’re freaking out, I’m sure.
    “Hey, Dad.”
    “Ethan, where are you? Are you all right?”
    “I’m fine. I’m just out for a bit. Taking a walk.”
    He’s quiet, and I picture him, working his jaw. “Where? We need to know where you are.”
    “I’m fine, Dad.” I’m breathing hard, running to get to Cami’s.
    “Ethan, come home this instant. Or you’re grounded.”
    I’m walking up Cami’s driveway now, and I see her looking out the window, behind the curtains. “Dad, seriously. It’s what, like seven thirty? Are you kidding me?”
    “Ethan,” he says, and even with the wind whistling around my head, I can hear his voice change to pleading. “Please come home. Your mother is very worried about you.”
    I shake my head and stomp off my boots on Cami’s step. She opens the door. “Tell Mama I’m sixteen, not