Until I had an actual job – as opposed to merely an interview – I'd never qualify for a mortgage in the first place, even if Brody did agree to sell.
Reluctantly, I decided to table the house discussion for another time, after I had a job offer in-hand. Until that point, Brody and I would only be arguing for nothing.
But there was something I could get answers on. "So about your grandparents," I said, "you never did tell me. Why didn't you ever get to know them?"
With no trace of a smile, he said, "Trust me. You don't want to know."
Judging from the tone of his voice, he wasn't any happier with this subject than the last one. Or maybe he was still irritated about the house.
Buy hey, I was getting irritated, too. And my question was perfectly reasonable. Brody and I had been together for months now. Maybe it wasn't a huge amount of time, but it was certainly long enough to justify asking basic questions about his family.
I said, "But I do want to know. I wouldn't have asked otherwise."
"Alright," he said, not sounding too happy about it. "You wanna know why? It's because my parents were fuck-ups."
"Oh." Now, I hardly knew what to say. From watching the TV show, I already knew that both of his parents had died in separate accidents sometime within the last few years – his dad in a car crash and his mom in a house fire.
At the time, both of them had been living in different states – away from their children and from each other.
Brody never wanted to talk about it, and I could totally see why. But until just now, I hadn't realized that Brody harbored such hard feelings for them.
After a long moment, I said, "How so?"
"Let's just say, family wasn't important to them."
"But what about your grandparents?"
"Dead."
I winced. "All of them?"
His voice was quiet. "Yup."
"Gosh, I'm really sorry."
"Don't be. Like I said, I never knew them, so…" His words trailed off into silence – the kind that didn't welcome further discussion.
Still, I persisted, "So you're saying you never met them at all?"
"Never," he confirmed. "So hey, they could be fuck-ups, too, for all I know."
The more he talked, the less I liked what I was hearing. Did he seriously just call his dead grandparents fuck-ups?
And earlier, his parents, too?
I felt my eyebrows furrow. It was true that I had plenty of issues with my own parents, but I still loved them, even in spite of their flaws.
And, as far as Brody's grandparents, his pronouncement seemed terribly unfair.
Hoping to get him thinking, I said, "But about your grandparents, if you've never met them, how can you truly know anything?"
"I don't." His voice hardened. "And that's the point."
"I know," I said. "But I'm just saying, maybe they were wonderful people."
With a low scoff, he said, "And you think that's better?"
"I don't know," I admitted. "Maybe."
"Well it's not," he said.
"Why?"
With a new edge in his voice, he replied, "Because the way I see it, I'm better off if they weren't worth knowing."
I still didn't get it. "But why?"
"Because then I wasn't missing anything."
Finally, I saw what he meant. Still, the whole thing made me feel strange and sad – and even sadder when Brody announced, "I'm gonna head out, alright?"
I felt my brow wrinkle in confusion. "Head out? What do you mean?"
"I’m gonna head back to my own room, maybe get some sleep."
Maybe get some sleep? I hesitated. "Oh. Okay."
He'd never done such a thing before. Normally, he stayed until just before sunrise, and left with obvious regret.
With no sign of regret now, he said, "And about the house. I meant what I said. Drop it, alright?"
Drop it?
Like it was so easy.
I refused to lie. "I can't promise you that."
"Yeah, well that makes two of us."
I wasn't even sure what he meant. But judging from his tone, it wasn't anything good.
Before I could even think of something to say, he was already out of bed and pulling on his clothes. In the shadows, I could see only his silhouette, but that didn't make it any less painful to watch as he prepared to leave.
And me? I didn't try to stop him.
I mean, hey, if he wanted to go, I wasn't going to beg him to stay – even if there was a pathetic part of me that was sorely tempted.
But all too soon, he was heading out. He didn't even leave through the window, but rather through the bedroom door, slipping out into the hall and shutting my door firmly behind him.
Alone in the quiet bedroom, I closed my eyes and tried to block out whatever had just happened.
My bed wasn't terribly huge, just a basic double. Still, it felt too big and empty after his sudden departure.
The whole thing was incredibly strange – and even stranger the next morning when I learned something that I should've heard directly from him.
But I hadn't. And I didn't like it.
Chapter 48
Arden
I stared at Waverly. "What do you mean he's gone?"
With a smirk, she replied, "I mean exactly what I said. He's gone. G.O.N.E, gone."
I gave her an annoyed look. Thanks ever so much for the spelling lesson.
We were standing in the crew house kitchen, and she was talking about Brody.
I asked, "Gone where?"
"To California, of course."
I shook my head. "California? But why?"
"Because, he was supposed to be there weeks ago."
He was? If so, this was the first I'd heard of it.
It was just past seven o'clock in the morning, and my day was off to a bitter start. After Brody's sudden departure from my bedroom last night, I'd slept fitfully at best and woke way too early feeling disgruntled and upset.
Still, I tried not to let our argument – or whatever it was – get me down. During my morning shower, I'd comforted myself with the fact that I'd be seeing Brody over breakfast, which would give us the chance to try to figure things out.
Instead, I'd
