“Hey, Eden,” Mom murmurs into the phone just before it goes to voice mail. “How are you, honey?”
“You sound tired.” I frown. It’s horrible knowing the pressure she’s under yet being unable to do anything to make the situation better. “How long was your shift?”
“Twelve hours,” she says quietly, but quickly continues before I can say anything. “A patient brought in her guide dog today, and it was the cutest thing I’ve seen since you were a baby. It kept the kids in the waiting room entertained. I almost felt heartbroken when it left. So I was thinking that when you come home, we should totally get a dog. It’ll keep me company when you go off to college next year. What do you think?”
I smile at her childlike enthusiasm. “Okay, we can get a dog. German shepherds are gorgeous.”
“Are those the intimidating ones?”
“Yes.”
She pauses for a long moment. “I’ll start looking.” When I laugh, so does she, and then I hear her yawn across the line. “Have you settled in yet or is it still awkward?”
“Still awkward,” I say. “I’m waiting for Dad to have an actual conversation with me, but it doesn’t look like that’s going to happen anytime soon.”
“Douche bag Dave,” Mom murmurs away from the phone, but I hear her anyway. “I wish you weren’t stuck there with him. I honestly feel so bad for you. You know you didn’t have to go.”
“It’s actually not that bad,” I say. I shrug even though she can’t see me, but I really wish she could. It’s hard without her, hard having to be stuck an entire state away from the only person who’s been there for me all my life, hard having to resort to phone calls every couple days because it’s the closest I can get to her. “There’s this group of friends who I’m hanging out with. They’re all really nice except for one.”
“Which one?”
“The one that’s my stepbrother,” I say, and then laugh, because it’s really absurd that the one person I dislike is the one I’m supposed to not dislike. “What are you doing tonight?”
“Ordering myself a bucket of fried chicken to enjoy while I spend my Saturday evening alone on the couch watching whatever crap comes on, because I’m in my late thirties and I’m already divorced and I work long hours and I look very unattractive,” she kids, her voice light before she falters. “I miss you. I hope you’re having fun and I hope you’re behaving.”
My chest feels heavy. I feel bad for leaving her alone. “When I come home we’re going to get that dog and we’re going to watch Pretty Little Liars together and we’re going to order all the fried chicken you want. You only have seven weeks to wait.”
“That’s a hell of a long wait, Eden Olivia.”
I smile to myself. “Try not to miss me too much and it’ll go faster.”
“Okay,” she says. “I’ll try not to miss my only daughter while you go and enjoy your weekend. Talk to you soon, baby.” She hangs up the call while she yawns for a second time, and then the line falls into an endless, echoing silence.
Mom deserves so much better than the life she has.
“Who were you talking to?” a male voice demands as my bedroom door swings open.
My heart almost stops, and quite clearly startled, I flash my eyes up to the intruder of my personal space. It’s Tyler, eyes narrowed, as per usual. “Did I say you could come in?”
“Who were you talking to?” he asks once more, firmer this time. “You got a boyfriend back in Portland or some shit?”
I stare at him, willing myself not to burst into laughter as he stares evenly back at me with his lips in a firm line. “Were you eavesdropping?”
“My room is right next door,” he says, stating the obvious. “The walls are thin as hell.”
I pull a face as I get to my feet. “Okay, well, I was talking to my mom.” His features relax, and I glance at the clock on the wall by the door. It’s almost 8:00 p.m. “Shouldn’t you be out doing something?”
“That’s actually what I gotta talk to you about,” he murmurs. Taking a deep breath, he shuts my door and wanders into the middle of the room. I raise my eyebrows at him. “You’re not doing anything tonight, right?”
“No,” I say. “Everyone’s busy.” Rachael is in Glendale for a few days visiting her grandparents, Meghan has the flu, and Tiffani spends every third weekend with her dad, who doesn’t let her make plans that don’t involve him.
“Alright, you’re coming with me,” Tyler states. “Party down on Eleventh Street. Don’t mention it to your dad.” He turns to leave, but I call him back.
“Who says I want to go to a party with you?” I cross my arms across my chest. Just this morning he was yelling at me for blocking the staircase. “Sorry, but you’re sort of the last person I want to hang out with.”
He grits his teeth. “Get ready.”
“No.”
“Yes,” he says. “What else are you gonna do? Sit here all night in your room like a damn loser with no social life?”