More tears leaked down his face as he typed once again.
“Please, Dad. Don’t send me to California. Mom is buried here. You’ll be buried next to her. I can’t leave you guys. I won’t.” It was my turn to cry as I bit my thumbnail.
Dad sobbed like a baby.
I felt like a schmuck as my heart broke a thousand times over.
Nan came in with a tray of food. “I thought it was no-crying Monday.”
Dad and I both laughed.
As Nan set his food down on the table, the computer said, “Aunt Clara will be here this weekend, Skye.”
My aunt was only visiting. Still, my stomach dropped to my Vans. Reality was quickly setting in. “She’s just visiting?” I asked, just to be sure. I didn’t think Dad would send me away before he passed. If he did, they would have to drag me out of North Carolina. I was not leaving Dad alone to die.
Nan nodded. “Yes. Only visiting.”
The blood began to flow through my veins again. I had time to convince Dad that Nan was the better option.
Still, the conversation was too much. I wanted my dad to live for the next fifty years. I wanted him to see me flourish into a woman, get married, and play with his grandchildren. I wanted him to teach me the things he hadn’t had a chance to, and above all else, for him to be there for me when I needed him.
As much as I didn’t want to disappoint Dad, I labored for air. I needed to get out of the house.
“Skye,” Nan called as I ran out of the room.
I grabbed my skateboard and backpack on my way out the front door. I felt like I was pulling a Colton, but I had to clear my head.
6
“Beautiful Pain” by Andy Black blared in my ears as I skated through my neighborhood, letting the tears fall.
It was hard not to feel sorry for myself. It was hard to be strong, to laugh, to act like everything was okay. It wasn’t.
A boulder sat in my stomach. I felt alone and broken. I had no one anymore. Mom was gone, and Dad… I couldn’t think that far ahead. I squeezed my eyes shut for a brief moment, wringing out my sorrow. My heart hurt more than ever before, which I wouldn’t have thought possible.
My pity party came to an abrupt halt when a vehicle whizzed by, narrowly missing me. One beat passed before I realized it wasn’t just any car. Then shock stung me worse than a bee. What is Grady doing in my neck of the woods? Rich kids like him stuck to their big mansions on the ocean and hung out at the ritzy golf club my dad couldn’t afford to play at.
He slowed before his reverse lights illuminated. His disgusting signature truck nuts dangled from the trailer hitch.
I was tempted to head the other way but knew that Grady would probably chase me down.
I hopped off my board, snapped it up, and beelined for the sidewalk. Maybe he hadn’t seen me. Maybe I could duck down behind one of the many cars parked along the street.
“Lawson!” Grady shouted in his grating voice.
Too late. “Fuck off.” I threw him the finger as I walked at a fast pace.
His truck rolled along with the speed of my legs. “Is that any way to act? I was being nice,” he shouted over the rap music blaring from inside his cab.
I rolled my eyes and tapped my ear, even though I’d heard him. I wasn’t about to scream at him. I didn’t want to disturb the neighbors.
Then the music died. “Did you hear me?”
“What are you doing in my neighborhood, anyway?”
“Looking for Colton. Have you seen him? He was supposed to meet me an hour ago. You do live next door to him, right?”
“I’m not his babysitter.” I wouldn’t have told Grady shit even if I had known where Colton was.
A stop sign loomed ahead, which meant he had to stop—but I didn’t. I could turn right at the end of the block. The skate park wasn’t that way, but I could take a detour.
When we reached the corner, he asked, “Where are you headed? I can give you a ride.”
A wild laugh escaped me, my middle finger flying in the air. “I’m not getting in a car with you.”
I wasn’t worried about what he might do to me, but rather what I would do to him—I wanted to claw out his eyes. After all, he and I had a mutual hatred for each other, especially after he’d called me a boy and dissed my haircut.
I banked right without even batting an eye, willing and praying that Grady wouldn’t follow me.
He peeled out, and within a second the sound of his engine began to fade. I tossed a look behind me, catching the last glimpse of those nasty truck nuts as he turned a corner.
I sighed as I got back on my skateboard. Georgia’s house wasn’t that far, and I suddenly didn’t want to be around a crowd of people. I needed my BFF’s shoulder to cry on. Besides, if I did end up at the skate park, the minute I did a vert—a skate term for vertical—down one of the bowls, I would probably faceplant.
I stuck my earbuds in my ears just as “Rollercoaster” by the Jonas Brothers, a perfect song to describe my emotions, began to play. I probably shouldn’t have been wearing my earbuds. Safety and all. Dad had reprimanded me for that very thing a few times. But I was on the sidewalk, and I wasn’t in any danger of getting hit by anything, other than maybe running into a person.
A warm breeze blew in my face and the music blasted as I passed homes and crossed streets. A sense of calm washed over me, as it always did when I rode. I didn’t skateboard to compete—I
