After

I couldn’t understand why he’d say something like that. Everything I did these days was for other people. I worried about Mom. I tried to get Tanner to talk. I put up with Logan’s stupid girlfriend just to keep the peace. “What are you talking about?” I asked.

 

Logan rolled his eyes. “I know, I know, you’ve been Saint Lacey since Dad died,” he said. “But don’t you ever get sick of being good? I mean, don’t you just want to get pissed off at the world sometimes?”

 

“No,” I said. How would that help?

 

Logan made a face. “Yeah, well, I don’t always want to be perfect, you know? And Sydney doesn’t want me to be.”

 

He gazed at me triumphantly, like the fact that he had a “supportive” girlfriend was the answer to everything.

 

I stared at him for a minute. “How does Sydney even know what she wants, anyhow? She’s so joined at the hip with you that I think you two are sharing a brain.”

 

“Shut up, Lacey,” he said. “You don’t know everything.”

 

I stood up. “Sometimes I don’t think you know anything at all.”

 

“You can’t bring him back, you know,” Logan said. “You can’t bring anyone’s parents back or make things like they were before. And it’s stupid to try.”

 

I stormed out of his room, slamming the door behind me. I went into my room, slamming that door too, and collapsed on my bed.

 

I waited for a minute, figuring that Mom would come to see what the problem was. After all, I was sure that the slamming doors could probably be heard down the block, especially since our house was so silent these days.

 

But she never came. And Logan didn’t come to apologize. Instead, the loneliness settled down on me like a fog, and I lay slowly back on my bed, soaking in the silence.

 

 

 

 

 

chapter 13

 

 

 

 

After our Saturday-afternoon appointment with Dr. Schiff, Mom, Logan, and Tanner had once again shut themselves away in their rooms. Feeling lonely and bored, I called Jennica.

 

“Want to go to the mall or something?” I asked. Silence. Then, “I’m busy, Lacey.”

 

“With Brian?” I ventured.

 

“Not exactly,” she replied. More awkward silence. Then she said, “Look. I found out on Thursday that my dad’s getting remarried, okay? And things are just a little weird around here. I don’t really feel like going to the mall.”

 

I was stunned. “Your dad’s getting remarried? To Leanne?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“I didn’t know it was that serious,” I said.

 

“Yeah, well,” Jennica said. I could hear her sigh on the other end of the line. “There’s a lot you don’t know, Lacey.”

 

I wondered what she meant. “But … why didn’t you tell me?”

 

Jennica was silent for a minute. “I guess I didn’t really expect you to understand.”

 

“What?” Jennica and I talked about everything. Or at least we used to.

 

“Well, it’s not like he’s dead or anything,” Jennica said. “I mean, you’re always going on and on about how your life is so different because your dad died.”

 

“I never talk about it,” I interjected, surprised. I really didn’t.

 

“Yeah, well,” Jennica said. “I guess I just didn’t expect you to take my problem that seriously.”

 

“You’re my best friend,” I said. “Of course I’d take your problem seriously.”

 

“Be honest,” she said. “You think my thing is so much less important than yours, don’t you?”

 

I hesitated. Part of me wanted to say yes, of course. No matter how sad she was, at least her dad was still alive. She still got to see him sometimes. Her whole world hadn’t been shattered. Not the way mine had been. But I knew she didn’t see it that way. And I knew that admitting that would be the wrong thing to say. “Um,” I said instead.

 

She made a muffled sound. “Like I said. Don’t worry about it, Lacey.”

 

And then, for the first time in our friendship, Jennica hung up without saying goodbye.

 

I sat down at the kitchen table and put my head in my hands. Jennica was mad at me. Logan barely talked to me. My mom was trying to put on a happy face, but she avoided the house and her kids as much as she could. And then there was Tanner.

 

I walked upstairs and knocked lightly on Tanner’s door. He didn’t reply, so I knocked again. “Tanner?” I called out. “Can I come in?”

 

I waited a minute, and hearing no reply, I pushed open the door.

 

The shades were drawn and the room was dark, even in the middle of the afternoon. The lamp beside Tanner’s bed was on, but he was crouched in the shadows next to McGee’s cage.

 

“Hey, buddy,” I said. I crossed the room and knelt beside him. “How’s it going?”

 

Tanner was staring into the cage like his life depended on it, his concentration entirely fixed. I glanced into the cage to see what McGee was doing.

 

Except McGee wasn’t there. I bent my head to look inside his little plastic cave. No McGee. Nor was he on the hamster wheel. And the cage was small, only a few feet long and a few feet tall.

 

“Tanner?” I asked, starting to feel alarmed. “Where’s McGee?”

 

Without looking at me, he raised his right arm and pointed toward the window.