Where Futures End

Her smiled reeled him in. Their fingers touched. He finally put his hand on hers. “I’ve been looking for something,” he said. “But like an idiot I don’t know what it is.” He leaned over and kissed her.

She pressed the front of her shoulder into his and kissed him back. Hot air roared in his ear. It was the sound of a storm or a spell, even though it was just the heating vent. The warmth crept down to his toes, into his numb fingers.

“I don’t want a girl who’s not real,” he said, as if that were a good explanation for kissing someone else’s girlfriend. I don’t want the Girl Queen, I want you.

She looked puzzled, then smiled anyway. “It worked for Harrison Ford.”

“Not in the director’s cut.”

Her smile faded. She put the car into gear. “In that version, he wasn’t real either.”

The next evening, the wind rattled the windows in Dylan’s house as though calling to him, but he shut out thoughts of other worlds. Chess would be at the pawnshop. She’d said so last night at the film club. Dylan grabbed a Narnia book, thinking she might like to borrow it, and tucked his earnings into his pocket; he had enough to finally buy those boots he’d been eyeing. He jogged downstairs, wondering if Chess was at the shop already.

Mom was in the kitchen. He thought she was supposed to be at a PTA thing while Hunter ran the shop. She turned as he came in, one hand plastered over her forehead.

“Where have you been all day?” Her voice trembled.

Dylan sensed trouble. He shrank against the counter. “School.”

“Really? Which school? Because I called Drury today to find out how many absences you have.”

Dylan’s skin went cold with dread.

“They told me they don’t have any record of a Dylan Yates enrolled there.”

The book in Dylan’s hand almost slipped free. He tucked it under his trembling arm.

“Which is funny because I remember filling out the paperwork. What did you do, pull yourself out somehow?” Her gaze drilled into him. “What have you been doing the past two months?”

Dylan looked down at the floor. Studying on my own, in the library. Sneaking into Hevlen.

“I told you, Dylan, I warned you that if you couldn’t make it work at Drury—”

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

She crossed her arms. “Too late. I called your dad.”

Dylan’s heart jerked sideways. “He doesn’t have room for me on the houseboat.”

“He’ll make room.”

Dylan gave her a pleading look he knew wouldn’t work. To his surprise, Mom’s face softened. She brushed her thumb over Dylan’s brow. “Is that what this is all about?” she asked. “You just wanted to live with your dad?”

Dylan turned to stone. Once he had wanted to live with Dad, a long time ago. But now . . .

Mom sighed. “You remind me a lot of him.”

Because we’re both screwups?

“He has a restless mind, like you,” Mom said. “I thought the math team would be good for you, would help ground you.”

Dylan turned from stone to lead. “Then why didn’t you ever come to any of my competitions?”

Mom twitched back in surprise. “That was your dad’s thing. He was so proud of how much you’d grown up—”

“But I hated math team! You’re the one who made me join. I knew you’d never let me quit unless . . .” Unless I cheated on my stats final and got kicked off the team. But then I got kicked out of school instead.

He could hear the whir of Mom’s thoughts behind her eyes, the buzz of her consternation. “Everything’s going to be fine,” she said, her voice strained. “This will be your chance to start over.”

“I can’t go to Dad’s,” he said. “Please, Mom.”

Don’t you want me to be your son anymore? Why don’t you love me like you love Hunter?

“Dad’s expecting you at the bus—”

Dylan was out the door before she finished. Down the walk in eight quick steps. What had he done? He’d been so stupid.

No, crazy. He was losing it, had lost it. Sneaking into Hevlen, searching for a fantasy land.

But he’d tried before to prove to Mom that he wasn’t a screwup, and she’d never even come to his competitions. He’d tried to forget about the Other Place like Dad wanted him to, but that only meant he was left with nothing.

Even Hunter thought he was a loser. Hunter knew, somehow, that Dad had never wanted Dylan to come live on the houseboat. And he knew Dylan was hurt enough to lie about it.

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