“Your mom’s boyfriend is named Gator?” I asked her, with a small laugh.

“Yeah, how fucking stupid is that?”

A few hours later, she had to leave to take her car home so her mom could drive to work. I wasn’t sure what her mom did for a living, but I’d seen her once before and I wouldn’t have been surprised if she was a stripper. The fact that Farrah stayed home alone most nights made me feel even more connected to her. We were two teenage girls that had to play grown-up every day when school got out, and knowing that she was living a similar life made me feel less alone.

I straightened up the house a little and made myself a pizza pocket while I waited for and dreaded my nightly phone calls. Gram called every night if I hadn’t called her by eight o’clock. It was reassuring to know that she was checking up on me, but that night I was on pins and needles waiting for my phone to ring.

For the first time since I’d moved, I didn’t want to talk to her.

When she finally called, my phone startled me by vibrating on the kitchen counter. I walked over to check the caller ID, but didn’t even pick it up. I was afraid that if I did, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from answering, just to hear her voice. If it had been any other night, I would have relished the phone call. But, I knew if I picked up the phone I’d be able to hear the grief in her voice and I didn’t think I could handle it. So I just stood there, staring at it until it stopped vibrating, not even checking the voicemail that she’d left.

As I got ready for bed, I carried my phone around with me. I was planning on avoiding Asa’s call, too, but oddly I didn’t want to miss it. I was too raw, and I was picturing him in Oregon with a whole other family, my imagination running wild. I didn’t think I’d be able to talk to him although I wanted to hear his voice just as badly as my Gram’s.

It wasn’t until I was in bed, surrounded by the comfort of my blankets, that I worked up the courage to listen to Gram’s voicemail.

Hey, baby girl. I’m sure you’re having a hell of a day… just text me and let me know you’re all right. Okay? I can’t figure out this damn phone to text you back, but I’ll be able to see if you send me one. If you don’t, I’m gonna worry… I dropped your brother at the airport this afternoon and he seemed okay—but you might want to call him in the morning. He’s missing you like crazy… Okay, well, I’m gonna get off of here. I’ll be heading out bright and early in the morning—so I should be up there around dinner time. I love you, Callie Rose.

I listened to her voicemail twice before pulling the phone away from my face and texting her that I loved her. It felt like years since I’d seen her, and I couldn’t wait for her to get there the next day. I even giggled a bit at her complaints about not being able to work her cell phone.

As I lay awake that night, listening to the sounds of the apartments around mine, I felt calmer than I had in days. I’d successfully made it through one of the hardest days of my life.

But when I finally drifted off to sleep, my heart ached.

And Asa never called.

Chapter 31

Callie

Gram showed up half an hour after I got home from school. I’d barely set down my messenger bag and stuffed my dirty laundry into my bedroom closet before she was knocking. I practically skipped to the front door and swung it open hard after I’d unlatched the locks.

She didn’t even make it past the threshold before I was in her arms.

“Hey, baby girl,” she whispered into the side of my head, giving me a kiss before she pushed me away so she could look me over.

“Well, you haven’t starved to death,” she commented as she pushed her purse higher on her shoulder. “But you look skinnier.”

“That’s what happens when you don’t eat fried food every night,” I joked before stopping short.

“Hey, now, none of that,” she said forcefully as she poked me in the side and walked past. “Can’t be careful of everything you say, baby. Things are different for you now, no use pretending otherwise.”

I closed the door and locked it before following Gram to where she was standing in the middle of the kitchen.

“What?” I asked nervously. She was just standing there, her eyes darting from the floor to the cabinets above the sink.

“You cleaned up since you moved in?” she asked as she dropped her purse on the counter.

“Yeah,” I looked around in confusion, “I straighten up before I go to bed at night.”

“Callie, you actually have to wash things,” she told me in exasperation as she turned on the water in the sink, pulling the little metal strainer thing out and reaching in with her fingers to clean out the drain.

“I do wash things!” I snapped back, embarrassed.

“Your mother did you no favors by following you around and cleaning up your messes,” she mumbled, shaking her head.

My back snapped straight at her comment and my stomach began to churn.

“Don’t talk bad about my mom,” I growled at her, causing her head to whip toward me.

“I’m not talking bad about anyone,” she answered, her eyebrows raised. “I loved your mother, Callie. Don’t you talk to me like I’d ever say a word against her.”

“You didn’t even talk to her! You wouldn’t even come to our house!” I practically screeched back at her, my hands trembling. I didn’t know where it was coming from, but I couldn’t stop the words spewing from my mouth. “She wasn’t welcome at your house! Dad had to visit you by himself!”