"Yes," I said. "Sensible. I just need to get some air and think about things."
Then I walked outside and headed straight for the car, holding the keys I'd slipped from my father's pocket.
I was going to see Silas. I wasn't leaving.
~
Silas' mother answered the door, her bathrobe clutched tightly around her, a fresh bruise under her eye. She looked shaken, and I asked if she was okay. It was the first time I'd ever met her.
"Silas isn't here," she said, her voice unsteady. "He went off somewhere."
She backed into the living room of the small house, leaving the door open. I took it as an invitation to come inside.
The house was tiny, the interior dark and the curtains drawn, the only light inside coming from the inch wide gap between two panels of cheap fabric tacked to the frame of one of the windows. I stood there for a minute, blinking as my eyes adjusted to the darkness. I'd never been to Silas' house before. I'd asked him once if he wanted to bring me home, but he just shook his head, saying he didn't want his parents' poison to rub off on me. I knew that Silas' father treated Silas' mother as his personal punching bag.
Silas hated him.
Being here in person and seeing where Silas lived was somehow more horrible than I had anticipated. I felt my breath come in short gasps, almost like I was hyperventilating, even after I told myself to calm down.
When we were traveling two summers before, this old gypsy woman had talked to me about my aura. I laughed when she told me my aura was purple. She said it meant that I was intuitive and sensitive. She was a scam artist - I should know. But standing here right now, all I could think was that this place, even Silas' mother, was surrounded by a dark cloud. If there were such a thing as auras, everything here would be black.
"Where is Silas?" I asked. "Is he okay?"
She sat hunched over on the sofa, her face in her hands. "He's out, gone somewhere. He goes sometimes. I don't know where. He just goes."
I felt a surge of anger at her for not knowing where Silas was. How could she have no idea where her child was? And how could she display such little concern for him?
The feeling was followed immediately by pity for this broken woman. "Are you okay?" I asked, my voice soft. "Do you need some ice?"
Silas' mother shook her head. "His room is down there if you want to wait. Don't know how long he'll be. I just need to lie down here for a minute. The headaches..." Her voice trailed off, and she stretched out on the tattered sofa. I wondered if she was drunk or if I should call a doctor.
I stood there for a moment contemplating what to do, when she spoke, her eyes still closed. "I know about you," she said. "About your family. Your grandmother, she's not as tight-lipped as you might think about things."
My heart sank. Silas would understand, I thought. I'd told him my name. I'd told him the truth.
Not really. He had no idea who I was. I was just as guilty as my parents, just as involved in all of their scams, ever since I was a kid.
Silas would hate me.
"Silas has a real shot, you know," she said, eyes still closed. She wouldn't even look at me. "Has a chance at a scholarship, at getting out of here. He doesn't need anything tying him down. Doesn't need anyone tying him down, neither. Especially not someone like you."
Tears welled up in my eyes, and I fought the urge to cry in front of her. I knew she was right. "I need to leave a note," I said. "I can't...just leave."
"Down the hall," she said. "Second door on the left. Don't go finding him. It'll only be worse on him, saying goodbye."
I stumbled my way down the hallway in a daze, unable to think. When I entered Silas' room, I paused just inside the door, taking it all in. A stack of books was tossed carelessly on the floor, a notebook resting on top, and a few papers were scattered on the bed. It was sterile, furniture and nothing more, except for Silas' wrestling medals hanging on one wall. They provided the only color in the room. Everything else was just...grey.
I fumbled around beside his books, reaching for a pen, and paused when I found one, waiting for the words that wouldn't come.
How could I explain the deception that was my life?
In the end, I didn't try to explain. There was too much to say and it was too overwhelming. Instead, I just told the truth -
I'm sorry for everything. I have to leave. It's best for both of us. You're going to do big things - you don't need me for luck anymore.
You'll always have my heart.
Tempest
I folded the paper and left it on Silas' bed. I almost walked out the door, but stepped back inside, pausing at the wall where his wrestling medals hung, memorializing his wins.
Memories of my time with him.
My fingers traced over the medals, and I considered my actions for a moment before slipping one of the medals from its place on the wall and putting it in my pocket.
It was the only thing I could think to do. I couldn't leave without something from him, a reminder of the boy who had stolen my heart.
Then I did the hardest thing I would ever do.
I walked away.