Page 45 of The Way We Swing Back

I reluctantly walked toward my bike, my balance still out of whack. I chugged the bottle of water that sat in the cup holder and threw a piece of spearmint gum into my mouth before pushing the bike out the door and joining Gavin on the ride to his home.

This was not how I’d hoped to start the day, but the fresh air helped. By the time we got to the Quinns’, I felt almost good enough to face whatever screaming match they had ready.

When we entered, my three opponents occupied the living room. Mr. and Mrs. Quinn pressed together on the couch, side by side, relaxed like they’d been waiting for me. They appeared calmer than I’d expected and did not look mad in the slightest.

Zach leaned against the far wall, his arms crossed and not looking at me. His face hung as tightly as it had last night.

Gavin sat cross-legged on the floor, his back against Mr. Quinn’s chair, smiling like he expected Santa to come down the chimney with a bag full of presents.

All of them were ready.

I hovered in the doorway, awkward, my fingers clenched, hangover sweat pouring out.

Mrs. Quinn was the first to speak. “Easton, sweetie, come sit.”

I did, cautiously, easing into the open armchair like it might disappear under me.

Mr. Quinn bent forward, forearms resting on his knees. “We won’t keep you long.”

“A lot has happened this morning,” Mrs. Quinn added gently.

I gave the smallest nod. My throat resembled sandpaper.

“You know we love you, right?” she said.

I didn’t answer right away. But I held her gaze. That was what I could manage.

“We’ve known for a while you’ve been struggling,” Mr. Quinn said. “You’ve always had a tough deck to shuffle through. But we also know how much you’ve carried by yourself.”

I stared down at my hands. I wasn’t going to look at them anymore, not now, when they were excusing my actions because they felt sorry for me. Always protecting me.

Mrs. Quinn reached across the coffee table and placed her hand near mine—not touching but close enough the offer was available. “Zach told us what he saw. And, Easton... he didn’t come to us because he was mad. He came to us because he was scared for you.”

Of course he had. Couldn’t fight his own battles, so he’d gone to Mommy and Daddy. Because he could.

She started again. “You’re hurt. And you’ve been hurting alone.”

Mr. Quinn nodded. “So, we talked. All of us, with your grandparents.”

I looked up, wondering how they’d gotten roped into this.

“They know we’re having this conversation,” he said. “And they agreed. They said they love you, but you need more than what they can give. You need support and stability and a house that’s... full.” His eyes pierced mine. “Easton, we’d like you to move in with us. Permanently.”

I squinted, my tongue pushing out my bottom lip. Move in? The words didn’t land right away. They circled in my ears like static before finally clicking into meaning, even though it still didn’t make sense. “What?”

Gavin spoke for the first time, still smiling, finally able to reveal what he’d been holding back. “Not for a night. Like, all the time.”

I looked between them. “You... decided this?”

Mrs. Quinn nodded. “We wanted to be ready if you agreed. But the choice is yours.”

The walls pulsed around me, the air thick in my lungs, as if nothing wanted me to breathe properly.

“You don’t have to answer now,” she said. “We know it’s a lot.”

“I don’t—” I started and then stopped. “I didn’t think I could ask.”

Mr. Quinn leaned back, arms folding again. “That’s why we’re asking you. You never would.”