“Maybe they’re lost. People get lost all the time, especially grown-ups. My dad is lost. That’s why he did this to me.” She looked confused. “Most of the time people who are lost don’t ever find their way back.”
“That’s really sad, Emmy.”
“Yeah. Such is life, my friend.”
Poor Sophia. I could tell she hadn’t ever experienced love. Not with her parents, not while living in the big yellow house with a revolving door of teenagers and children, and certainly not with the Kellers and their “rules.” They projected an illusion of warmth with their home cooking and hand-stitched quilts, yet underneath the fa?ade was an institutional rigidity, as if they were running an orphanage where children would be fed and cared for but never loved. Love was such a key ingredient in molding humans, yet it was inaccessible to kids inside of the system.
I followed Sophia down the stairs and into the kitchen, where the three boys were helping Mrs. Keller make biscuits. “Emerson, so glad to see you feeling better,” Mrs. Keller said as she wiped her flour-covered hands on her apron. “Sophia, why don’t you show Emerson how to set the table.”
“Mrs. Keller, before I do that, I was wondering if I could use the phone to call my friend.”
She went to the sink and began rinsing the dishes. With her back to me, she said, “Haven’t we discussed this already? Go with Sophia and set the table.”
I did as she said, and then I ate chicken and dumplings and biscuits around the big oval table with the rest of the children. Mr. and Mrs. Keller ate at a separate, smaller table. There was a healthy amount of chatter among the children, but the adults kept quiet. All I could think about was Jackson. How I was eating a delicious homemade meal while he was probably eating cereal for the third time that day. I was scared to press the issue of calling him, but I was more scared of losing him.
In the middle of the night, I snuck down to the kitchen, took the phone from the charger, and went back up to my bedroom. I was the only one on the third floor, so I actually had privacy. I dialed Jackson’s house number. It was two in the morning, but he picked up on the first ring.
“Hello?” he said.
“Hi.”
“Emerson? Why are you whispering?”
“It’s two in the morning, and the Kellers don’t want me to call you.” My voice started to crack.
“Why?”
“They’re really strict,” I said.
“Can’t be any worse than your dad.”
“No, it’s different. They’re good people, they just have rules.”
“What kind of rules?”
“I’ll try and call you every night, but I don’t think we’ll be able to see each other until I settle in here and earn some trust.”
“Are they nice to you?”
“Yes, I’m totally safe. There are healthy, happy little kids here. The little girl is adorable.”
“Okay.”
“Okay, what?”
“As long as you’re safe. Paula called me and told me she dropped you off in New Clayton.”
“Why?”
“She wanted me to know that she found you a really good home. She asked me to keep my distance.”
“Keep your distance?!” I whisper-shouted.
“Shhh, Em. Don’t get yourself into trouble just to call me.”
“What are you saying, Jax?”
“Nothing at all. I just want you to be safe. You could be farther away, living with assholes. It could be worse.”
“It’s only been a day, and I’m already sick of people telling me to stay out of trouble. I’ve done nothing. Talking to you doesn’t make me a bad kid. That’s just ridiculous. I’m going to find a way to call you no matter what.”
There was a long silence. “Fuck, I miss you so bad,” he said.
“I miss you too. Don’t worry, I’m going to call you and I’m going to see you again soon.”
“I keep thinking about our kiss . . .”
“Yeah?”
“How sweet you tasted.” I sucked in a sharp breath. No one had ever talked to me like that before. “The sounds you made when I kissed your neck.” His voice was rough, strained.
“Jackson, what are you doing?”
“Thinking about how badly I want to kiss you . . . and touch you.” His voice was low.
My heart was pounding. “You’re sleepy.”
“Nope, not sleepy at all. Em, do you touch yourself when you think about me?”
I was overwhelmed with embarrassment. Jackson and I hadn’t ever talked about this kind of stuff. “Um . . .”
He laughed quietly. “You don’t have to be embarrassed. We’ve known each other our whole lives.”
“That’s why I’m embarrassed.” It’s unusual for kids at that age, especially a boy and a girl, to talk openly about these things. We were learning about ourselves together. We didn’t have any grown-ups in our lives to guide us. Jax and I were raising each other.
It wasn’t about what he was doing or what he was curious about. It was the fact that he could say it to me, the person he was fantasizing about, and he knew it would be okay. It made me love him more.
“I just hope you think about me. I miss you, that’s all,” he said.
“You’re basically all I think about, dork.”
“Ha! There’s my girl. So, you start at your new school tomorrow, right?”