One Week In November. Sarah Everest

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СКАЧАТЬ my arm. "I'm serious AJ. Wednesday you walked around school like you were in an alternate universe. Today, I find you chatting it up with some old homeless dude. And don't even get me started on your little jealousy antics in the bakery."

      "Jealousy?" I rolled my eyes, focusing on the least concerning item he had mentioned.

      "At least something got your attention," he sighed. "What's going on with you AJ? You can talk to me, you know."

      I did know. Next to Aunt Stacey, Kaden was the one person I could spend time around without being on edge. I just wasn't sure I wanted to tell him everything about what was happening with my mother. My hand raised to my mouth and I started biting my fingernails again. "See, this is exactly what I mean," he pulled my hand away. "That's the second time I've seen you attacking your poor nails today. I haven't seen you like this since you first moved here. Please, talk to me."

      I debated which topic was the safest, and surprised myself by going with my upcoming Saturday plans. "I have to visit my mother on Saturday." Each word fell dully from my lips. Saying them made them more concrete and heavy than they had appeared in my mind.

      Kaden's brown eyes widened. "You mean you're actually going to see your mother? Like your mother mother?"

      I nodded. "It has to be done, I'm afraid."

      "I can't believe you were actually not going to tell me. AJ, this is huge. Details. Must have details." We were still a mile from home, and even with my coat on the cold was intensifying. I debated whether it was better to wait until we got back to the house and then sit and talk it all out, or push forward and give it to him straight.

      "If what she told me on the phone this morning is to be believed," I started walking. Kaden slipped my hand under his arm and continued close beside me, waiting for my next words. I took a deep breath, more to buy time than anything else. "She's dying."

      The hug happened before I could prepare myself. I was in his arms, my face pressed up against his chest. I smelled the spiciness of his cologne, heard the movement of blood pumping from his chest out into his veins, felt his fingers in my hair. My head told me to pull away, to make some smart remark about him messing up my hair, but I have to admit, he was more skilled at the hug than I had anticipated. Almost as good as three year old me. All the fight melted out of my body, and I found my arms wrapping around him, clinging to the firmness of his sturdy frame. Unbidden, tears came. I wasn't even sure who they were for, but they felt good, which was particularly unsettling. I had no desire to turn into a weeper.

      My phone started ringing. It was Aunt Stacey's ring tone. I knew better than to ignore it. Kaden loosened his grip, and I reached in my pocket for the phone, wiping my eyes surreptitiously with the sleeve of my jacket. "Hello," I was relieved that my voice didn't crack.

      "Everything okay?" I could hear her concern. "It's almost nine."

      "Nearly home," I pushed a little fake work smile into my voice, hoping she wouldn't call me out on it. Thankfully phones have never been the best at conveying mood accurately. "Kaden's walking me. We'll be there in five."

      "Okay, see you soon," she hung up, a clear sign that my bluff had worked.

      Kaden and I walked hurriedly in silence. "Do you want Stacey to give you a ride home?" I asked as we reached the foot of the porch steps. "It's really dark and cold out, and I'm sure she won't mind."

      "Are you trying to say you're worried about your thug football playing boyfriend making it home safely in this neighborhood?" I was glad to hear him making light of things.

      I punched him in the arm, and he winced. "No, I'm worried about my big marshmallow best friend making it home," I grinned.

      "Ain't nobody every called this hot chocolate a marshmallow before, sista," he pulled out his best gangsta accent, even throwing in a head toss for added drama.

      It was my turn to initiate a toned down version of the hug. "You're the best, Kaden. I mean it. Even if you are a bit pushy and overbearing sometimes."

      "I'll take that as a compliment," he ruffled my hair. "And thanks for not calling me a drama queen this time."

      The porch light came on, and I pulled him up the stairs before the door opened. "Sorry we're so late," I rushed to speak first. "Do you think you could give Kaden a ride home? He decided to play the gentleman tonight, and I feel bad making him walk all the way back by himself."

      "Of course," Stacey was already reaching for her coat. We followed her to the garage and got into the car. One of the best things about Aunt Stacey is that she lets me take my time. She might be burning with curiosity, or even annoyed about something I've done, but she gives me the space to bring it up on my own. My mother was never like that. She couldn't seem to get the idea in her head that when I wanted her to know something, she would know it. All the prodding was useless. I would lie if I didn't want her to know. I never lied to Aunt Stacey, because she never asked for truth I wasn't ready to give.

      None of us had much to say on the drive to the Westin's house, but the silence was not uncomfortable. The more I think about it, the more I realize that is why I get along so well with Stacey and Kaden. They don't feel like empty spaces need to be filled with pointless conversation. We can all laugh and talk for hours when life calls for it, but we can sit together quietly and not feel awkward, and that is a gift.

      We arrived at Kaden's in less than ten minutes, a distance that would have taken him at least half an hour to walk. "Thanks, Ms. Barker," Kaden said as we pulled to the curb. "Always a pleasure to see you. See ya tomorrow, AJ."

      "Night, Kaden," I called as he walked up the steps to his house. He waved at me behind his back. Stacey pulled a U-turn in the middle of the quiet street and we headed home.

      "I called her," I said, staring out into the starless night. My voice bounced hollowly back to me off the cold window, even as my breath fogged up the glass.

      "Good," Aunt Stacey reached over and patted my shoulder. If my mother had done that it would have been condescending, but from Stacey it felt like solidarity. "It's serious this time."

      "Do you really think so?" I didn't try to hide my skepticism. It had felt more amazing than I wanted to admit being wrapped in Kaden's strong arms, accepting his offer of reassurance and friendship, letting the tears come, but he had never met my mother. He didn't know what she was capable of saying or doing to get her way.

      "I do," she let out a shaky sigh, revealing how much she meant those two basic words. "You remember she had a spell before, right?"

      I nodded. The memory was vague, mostly tied up in the smell of antiseptic, bleach, and old people. I had been too young to understand what was happening, so no one bothered to explain it to me at the time. I had a feeling the arguments I heard between Aunt Stacey and my mother involved a difference in opinion over how much I should be told, but in the end, what stands out most was that for two weeks I stayed in a hotel room with Aunt Stacey and got to eat pancakes for breakfast every morning in the lounge before going to sit all day in a waiting room watching cartoons.

      "It was a tumor that time. I told her she should explain it to you, if not then, at least when you were old enough to understand, but she was adamant, saying you were better off not knowing anything. In her mind, she was trying to protect you. I think she's always regretted having to understand death from such an early age. She was only twelve when our parents died. I don't think she ever got over it..." her voice trailed away and the car was filled with the sound of the blinker clicking as she turned onto our street. We pulled into the driveway and I watched the garage door slowly roll СКАЧАТЬ