CHAPTER THREE

** A month earlier. **

"And you've talked to your father recently?" my therapist, Mrs. Davis asks me.

"Yes." I answer blankly.

'No. I haven't spoken to my dad lately. And why would I want to? He abandoned me. He left me with a single mother who'd been struggling ever since he'd left. And yet he says he loves me. Does he? If he loved me, he'd come back. He'd stay. He would've come to Theodore's funeral when he died. He would come to my party instead of just giving me a Happy Birthday card. '

"Everett? Did you hear what I said?"

I snap out of it, my eyes guiding upwards from the floor, "No, sorry."

"Everett, you really need to stop these one-word answers. It's hard to do my job if you won't cooperate with me. Do you understand?" Mrs. Davis clasps her hands in front of her as she talks, the worry lines on her forehead deepening as if she's truly concerned about me. Her tightly knotted brown streaked gray hair seems like it doesn't move as she pushes her glasses up her nose.

'As if she cares. She's only here to help because it gives her money. That's her job. To help pathetic 16-year-old girls such as myself overcome our struggles. She doesn't get it though, does she? I don't have struggles. I don't have depression. I'm fine, I don't need help. I'm not broken, and I don't need to be fixed.'

"It's obvious that you're completely oblivious to what I'm saying. I'm going to release you early. Grab your stuff and go home... I'll see you next Wednesday." she rubs her temples as I stand up and swing my backpack over my shoulder.

I don't bother looking back at her as I walk out the door. I can feel her eyes on me, but I don't want to talk to her. It's a Friday, and I've been anxious to go home all day.

Grimacing, I make my way past the few other rooms and through the lobby. I'm surprised to see Scott, my boyfriend, standing outside the front door. My eyebrows rise and I step out, ignoring the slam of the door suctioning back to its frame. He's dressed in some light jeans and a tight green shirt, which brings out the colors in his hazel eyes.

Scott usually either drives me home from school or waits for me on my porch if I want to walk. Occasionally he'll walk with me, too. I'm not sure why he does it, but it's nice of him, especially since my mom usually steals the car. Right now, though, I'm unsure of why he's been waiting outside of the building of my therapist, and incredibly unsure of why he was there so early in the first place. It wasn't like him to be early. He was either right on time, or just a couple minutes late.

"Hey, Ev. How was it?" He takes my backpack and puts it on his own back before taking my hand and leading me down the street, toward his car, which is sitting on the side of the road.

"It was fine, I guess. There's not much to say. She let me leave early... Why were you standing out here to wait for me in such advance? You know I get out at four thirty. It's only three fifty." I frown, trying to make sense of it as we walk.

"Uhm, yeah- I- About that-" he pauses, not speaking for a moment. "Yeah, never mind. It's not important."

'What's not important? Why won't you tell me? If it's unimportant, what's the point in hiding it? Is something wrong? Is something wrong with me? Oh goodness, I'm doing it again. I'm having an anxiety attack.'

I focus on the synchronized click of our shoes on the pavement, trying to calm my beating heart. It scares me to lose him. The last thing I need is to lose Scott. It'll end my everything... I'm not sure what I'd do without him.

"What is it?" I demand, not realizing I've said it out loud until I see the surprised look on his face. Normally I drop stuff like this and don't continually pressure him into saying something he doesn't want to. It's a new one for me, but I want to have a small bit of control right now for some reason.

"W-Well- I just w-was wondering if you could help m-me find a tutor for my m-math test- I failed it." he stammered, avoiding my eyes as we reach his car.

His hand slips out of mine and he stuffs my backpack in the backseat before opening the door for me. I climb in and click the seatbelt in right when he shuts my door and makes his way to the other side, getting in and turning on the car with swift motions. His seatbelt is on just as quickly and he starts the car. Slowly, he backs up and pulls into the street, starting on the route to my house.

We don't talk in the car. He just drives and I just stare out the window, my signature blank expression on my face. The wispy and pathetic trees of North Dakota blur outside, nearly blending in with the dreary-looking sky. I suspect it's going to rain soon, seeing how the clouds are dark colors of grey and blue. I decide to keep myself occupied by thinking what I'll say to Dad when the time comes to call him again.

'Dad? Yes? When are you free? In a year? In a couple months? Oh. I see. Do you think you could take me in? No? Oh. That's fine too. Love you too. Bye.'

I cringe. I was never good at conversation, I liked to keep my thoughts in my head. Especially when it comes to my dad, I'd rather not talk. It's quite a frequent subject that's brought up these days, my dad. When he has time to talk, when his open hours are, if he's sending money. I'm sick of hearing people talk about him as if he's here and as if he's going to come. I really doubt that he will, especially after the fight with Mom so many years before. Technically, they aren't divorced, though it feels like it. They say they're taking a break. A break shouldn't be nine years long, and it certainly shouldn't cut out Ollie and I. Even I know that. Our family used to be so close until I was seven, when Mom and Dad had a huge fight and he left us for a long time. He didn't talk to us much. He was just there to take the kids to school, back, and then leave again. Theo always used to come home so angry for reasons we couldn't understand. And then, three years after the same repetitive behavior, he jumped off a cliff on the beach near our house.

He went missing for a while, and being only ten, I was distressed, so I began to look for him. I looked all over that beach that day. I was on my way back home, cold, shivering and upset because I hadn't found him. As I kicked sand in front of me and dragged my feet, my foot hit something in the water. I looked down, past my sopping wet tennis shoes and screamed. I've never been able to get the look of his pale, blue and purple face. I continued to scream that day. I screamed until my voice was gone, and by then, my mom had gone looking for me.

When she'd come outside and saw me, staring down at him, she screamed too. The rest was a blur. People grabbing my sobbing self and dragging me back to my house, where they made the excuse that I was sick and locked me in my room while they took care of his body.

I can barely remember his funeral. I remember getting dressed in my best black dress and driving to the church in my mom's old white car. Then driving to the graveyard. And then home to struggle getting little three-year-old Ollie dressed. The rest of the year, I acted like a robot. Doing all that my teachers and mother said, and nothing more. Of course, that year went fast.

Stupid funerals.

"Everett? Are you going to get out?"

'What? What do you mean by "get out"?'

I snap out of it, pulling my head up. The glass of the car window has the imprint of where my forehead had been resting.

'Great, I've spaced out again...'

I bite my lip and glance to my left side, where Scott is frowning at me, his lower lip pulled in slightly. That's a habit of his... He makes that face whenever he's concerned, sometimes confused too. I grimace as I catch sight of my small house, which is in front of us; we're pulled up in the driveway and the car is off.

"Sorry... I must've fallen asleep..." I mutter, unbuckling and fumbling to unlock the door.

He unlocks it for me, and I stumble out of the car, shutting the door quickly and opening the door to the backseat. I swiftly pull the back door open and pull my backpack out, swinging it over my shoulder.

"Thanks for the ride." I say, trying to put a small smile on my face as I shut the door, leaving our conversation short.

He starts to mouth something, but I'm already heading up toward my front door. I turn to watch him as he pulls out of the driveway and waves to me before driving off. I wave back, but I'm too slow, he's already gone.

'Now to face Mom... And Ollie. I hope she's picked him up from school... He's only a fourth grader, he can't walk home from school that far all alone. He's likely to get hit by a car if that happens. I wish I had my own car; it would make life so much easier. At least I know how to drive?'

"EV!" As I'm turning around to open the door, it's flung open, Ollie's bright face simply shining in front of me. I can't help but smile tiredly at the sight of him. "You're back!"

"Yeah, I am. How was school?" I laugh and usher him back into the house, following behind and shutting the door quietly.

"School was okay, I guess... Another rough day." he responds, his eyes losing some of the light for a second.

'Another rough day? Same. Guess I'm not the only one in this family...'

"That's fine! How was your test?" I somehow recall that the previous day, he'd told me he had a spelling test. Running a hand through my short caramel brown hair, I put my backpack down near the stairs.

Ollie runs around me, his curly halo of blonde hair bouncing on his head and making him look like an over-excited angel, "It was great! I scored the highest in class! I think I just might be the best speller in the whole school!"

"That's great, Ollie! What about Mom? Did she pick you up?" I ask, moving to the kitchen and opening our nearly empty cupboard.

'Guess Mom forgot to go shopping... Again.'

"No, I got a ride home with Max today. His mom saw me waiting and she offered me a ride home, so I said sure." he responds, following and sitting down at our small kitchen table, looking starved.

"Good," 'not good. Where was Mom? Do I have to do everything by myself around here?' "And you've eaten, right? Lunch? Breakfast? Do you want a snack?" I question again, frustratingly opening and closing all the kitchen doors because I can't find anything edible.

"I ate the last banana for breakfast and for lunch I had the school lunch. Yeah, I'd like a snack!" he grinned, bouncing up from his seat and shoving his shoes on.

I sigh and tie my hair back into a low ponytail. Looks like we were going shopping. Early dinner it was.

"Alright... Where's Mom? Does she have the car?" I ask, walking to our one-car garage door and opening it, surprisingly finding our old dark green civic car parked in a straight line, from where I left it last.

"She's at a friend's house. She said something about a girl's night... As soon as I got home, she was out the front door. Here are the keys!" he tosses me the key ring and I catch it, but just barely; it was a little short. Quickly, I grab my purse too and swing it over my shoulder.

I twirl the keys around my fingers as he stumbles out the door, awkwardly going down the steps and getting into the back of the car. I follow soon after and wait in the front seat as he gets his seatbelt on. The moment he's finished, I start the car and open the garage, backing out slowly. When I'm out, I shut the garage door and pull fully out, onto the road.

"Doesn't Mom have the credit card?" Ollie asks, bouncing in his seat.

"Yeah… But I have mine, so we're set." I respond, turning on the radio as I drive.

'"We're set"? Not for long… I doubt my pay will cover the rent and everything we need. There goes college… Unless Dad sends money; but I don't think he will. Why would he waste money on a kid he doesn't care about? Besides, it's Fall, and Ollie's grown out of most of his clothes, including his old Halloween costume. I'll have to get him a new one.'

"So… Halloween's coming up. You excited?" I ask, turning the volume of the music down and turning a corner, heading toward the large sign that reads, "Target".

"Yeah, but I don't think I'll go trick-or-treating this year…" There's a hint of sadness in his voice as he answers my question.

I look into the review mirror, but he avoids my gaze, keeping his eyes on the window.

"Why is that? You love trick-or-treating!" I protest as I pull into the parking lot and find a nice space that's near the entry doors.

"Because I don't fit in my costume anymore, and I don't want you to buy another one! I know that you work hard just to get food, so why should I ask for one when you do? Mom doesn't work either, so we only have the money you make! Plus, you have to go to college!" He exclaims, unbuckling as I turn off the car.

Involuntarily, my eyes tear up and I choke down the emotions.

That's so sweet of him. I never thought he'd notice.

"Aw, buddy… It's okay. You should be a kid and go trick-or-treating. Come on, let's go in." I open my door and get out of the car, being greeted almost immediately by Ollie, who'd somehow gotten in front of me in the ten seconds it took to get out.

Shaking my head, I grab my purse and lock the door behind me, grabbing his hand soon after. It takes us a moment to get to the store front, and by then, he's practically bouncing out of his shoes in excitement.

"What should I be this year, then?" he asks, letting go of my hand because we're across the parking lot and walking through the doors, "All my friends are being people from Mario Kart."

"Mario Kart?" I question, trying not to laugh at all, "Is that what you want to be?"

Mario Kart is supposedly all the 'new rage', but I'm not sure why. I suppose that I haven't really taken the time to play it and discover what it's about, though. From what I've heard, it's just racing some little characters in cars around tracks to get stupid powerups. You'd be better off learning to drive.

"No, I think I'd like to be either a banana, or Captain America!" he responds, grabbing a cart for me and walking toward the costume aisle, which is right under the huge Halloween section.

"A banana... How... Creative?" I shake my head once again.

'Video game characters and fruits. What's next? Vegetables? Sumo wrestlers?'

Ollie stops pushing the cart and passes it on to me before he begins to run down the aisle, crouching to see the costumes on low racks and standing on his tiptoes to see the costumes that are hung up taller than him. I wheel the cart down the tile and come to a stop behind him as he picks up a banana costume. I can't help but smile a little at how ridiculous this is.

'Did I really just offer to buy him a banana costume? Oh well, if he wears it... '

He holds it up and proudly puts it in the cart, "There! Costume, check! Now we can get food!"

I sigh and allow him to sit in the cart as I push it towards the dairy section.