Dead to You by Lisa McMann Page B

and Cami cringes in sympathy. “Thanks,” I call out. “Tell her I’ll be home in a few minutes.”
    I stand up and set Cami’s feet gently on the floor, and then I offer her a hand and pull her out of the chair. “Thanks for forgiving me,” I say.
    She gives me a hug. “How could I not forgive my long-lost BFF?”
    It’s not where I want it to be. But I’ll take it. For now.

CHAPTER 28
     
    The wind has stopped and the snowplows are out, throwing the snow impossibly high along the sides of the roads. It feels like I’m in a tunnel, walking down the street. Mama said earlier that if the plow trucks make it to the neighborhoods, school will be open tomorrow. And my mind turns back to that old worry. I squinch my eyes shut. My eyeballs feel frozen.
    When I get home, I find my parents in the living room, pretending like crazy that they aren’t worried, like they have it all together, but the curtains are still open wide, even though it’s long after dark.
    Blake is nowhere to be found, and Gracie’s probably asleep in bed already. I sit down in the chair across from the couch, where Mama sits.
    “Hey,” I say. I’m so uncertain. Are they mad at me about dinner? Do they think I’m just a troublemaker, like Blake does? And are they really going to ground me for not coming home right away? I think about making a joke, but then think better of it and just keep my mouth shut.
    They’re quiet, just sitting there, looking at me, and it worries me. It does. It’s probably some parenting technique or something. Whatever it is, it’s working. I shift in my chair and clasp my hands to keep from fidgeting.
    Finally, Dad speaks. “We’re really upset with you for running off.”
    Mama says, “It’s not safe out there. You wandering around in the dark—I was very worried.”
    I close my eyes and count to five so I don’t mess this up.
    But they aren’t done.
    “And what you did to Blake is unacceptable,” Dad says. “I know you’ve had some rough times, and I know you probably learned how to fight on the street, but in this house you are with family and we don’t act that way.”
    Ugh. I can’t believe this. “Blake punched me first,” I say as quietly as I can.
    “Don’t worry about Blake. We’ve taken care of him. That’s not your job,” Mama says.
    I can feel it coming. This is such bullshit. And I know I’ve lost my chance at getting out of school. There’s no way Mama will talk Dad into anything now.
    “I’m sorry,” I say. Seething inside.
    Mama stays on point. “If it happens again, Ethan, well . . . I’m not sure what we’re going to do, but violence in our home is not acceptable, and whatever punishment we decide, it’ll be harsh. So just don’t. Clear?”
    “Yes.”
    “Now, about school tomorrow,” Dad says.
    My heart sinks.
    “You’re going.”
    Fuck. I lean forward in my chair, put my elbows on my knees. Bury my face in my hands so they don’t see my reaction. So they don’t see me shaking. So they don’t see the stupid, hot tears.
    In the morning, I get up from my makeshift bed in the basement, put on my clothes, eat breakfast, and get on the bus, ignoring the looks. And ignoring Blake. It’s easy—he ignores me, too. I sit with Cami, but for the life of me, I can’t focus on our conversation. My chest is so tight, it makes my breath raspy. I just stare at the seatback in front of me.
    Once we’re at school, I get off the bus.
    And I start walking. Away.
    I can’t do it. I can’t go in there, face all those people. Be laughed at, humiliated. Sent to all those freshman classes when I should be a junior. Look J-Dog in the eye, or see Cami with him, or get one single pity glance or one inkling of a mention of pissing my pants—I swear I’ll punch anybody who does that.
    And, I’ve been told, that is unacceptable.
    So that leaves me with no choice.
    I quit.

CHAPTER 29
     
    I spend the day wandering, and by afternoon, I’m cold and starving. I stare at the