Still Point by Katie Kacvinsky Page B

used to be, or I can do something about it. Actively do something.”
    She nodded and her eyes filled with tears. Her chin started to tremble but she held herself together. “I’m afraid, Maddie,” she said. She spoke quietly, like she was confessing a secret. “I’m afraid your father might go to jail for what’s coming out about the detention centers. He’s hiding something. And he won’t open up to me. He’s been meeting with attorneys every week—that’s why he’s out of town so much. They’re already planning the defense for his case. He keeps saying he wants to protect me.” She shook her head. “But your father’s idea of protection has become secrets. And I’m not okay with that anymore.”
    â€œWe’ll figure it out,” I said. “You haven’t lost any of us. Joe still loves you. We all love you.”
    Her voice came out flat. “I only talk to him a few times a year, through a screen. That’s not a relationship. I want to be in my kids’ lives, not a digital icon they have updates with when it’s convenient. That’s not enough for me. And with you I know I can have more. I need that.” My mom looked outside, through curtains that only seemed to be open when my dad was out of town. “I love that since you’ve been home the windows are open. I want to open our lives up again.”
    â€œI promise to stay close, Mom,” I said, and I meant it. I hated seeing all the sadness in her eyes, and maybe I couldn’t fix it, but I could at least support her. She supported everyone. But who supported my mom?
    It was such a gift, to be here, sitting with her. I used to count the days when I could put space between us, but now I basked in her company. There are so many things and people we don’t notice until we are forced to live away from them. Why does closeness make us so blind?
    â€œYou grew up,” my mom said. She reached across the table and ran her fingers over my cheek, down to my jaw. “It’s a hard thing for parents to grasp. One day you blink and your children are adults.”
    I smiled. I wondered if my father accepted that yet. My mom seemed to be reading my thoughts.
    â€œYour dad loves you. He’s more stressed out right now than you know. Give him a little time.”
    â€œDo you think his job will ever settle down?” I asked.
    â€œI hope so. I fell in love with him for how passionate he was. He wanted to make the world a better place. Not very many people are that ambitious. But this is the reality,” she said, and pointed around our huge, perfect, perfectly empty house. “He’s never here.”

Chapter Nine
    â€œSomebody has a boyfriend,” I said as I jumped onto the train next to Clare. I had asked her to meet me when I saw her at the club the night before. I needed her help.
    Her entire face lit up. “I’ve had a crush on Gabe all year.”
    I sat down next to her, so close our legs were touching. The rainy mist and fog turned everything outside a shade of gray. We could hardly see out the train windows.
    â€œWhy didn’t you say anything?” I asked.
    â€œIt started happening at the detention center. I didn’t want to tell you, under the circumstances.”
    â€œIt’s not the most romantic setting,” I agreed. “Unless you’re into storage basements and eroding tunnels.”
    She nodded. “I thought it would be a little selfish to tell you I was falling madly in love while you were being psychologically tortured.”
    â€œThat’s sweet of you,” I said.
    â€œHe’s moving up to Portland this summer,” she added easily.
    My mouth fell open. Clare and I had been talking about moving to Portland together after the national vote. We wanted to be roommates.
    â€œThat happened fast.” I was surprised to feel jealous. Clare deserved to be happy.
    She nodded.