Page 10 of Jacob Michaels is Not Here

“More fuckin’ sass.” She rolled her eyes.

“I’ve made my decision.” I crossed my own arms over my chest.

“You’re goin’ to let yourself get kilt because—for what?” Oma demanded. “What’s that gonna do for any-damn-one?”

“What’s the alternative, Oma? Tell me that. You knew—you knew—this day was coming, and you just stayed silent. The only time you’ve ever stayed silent—”

“Don’t you—”

“—and now I have exactly two choices, and you’re telling me which one to make without even discussing it!” I bellowed. “This isn’t about you. It’s about me, Oma!”

“It’s about everyone!”

“Why’d I have to be born?” I screamed down the stairs at her. “If I hadn’t been born I wouldn’t have to deal with any of this!”

Oma’s eyes grew wide as a hand went to her chest.

“I wish I didn’t know any of this shit!” I continued. “I wish I wasn’t here! I wish I didn’t know what I know! I wish I didn’t have to look at you! I wish I didn’t have to worry about Lucas! I wish Ernst was safe! I wish I had more time—”

“Shut up, Robbie!” Oma hissed, her foot rising to the first step of the stairs.

My mouth stayed open, but I didn’t say another word. Oma’s hand was on the newel post cap and the other on her chest. She glanced down at the floor fearfully, then up at me desperately.

“Don’t make wishes, Robbie. Not even in your own head,” She pleaded. “You know better.”

“Sorry.” I snapped, but my heart wasn’t in it. “I’m still learning all the rules.”

Then I stomped the rest of the way up the stairs. Once I’d made my way to my bedroom, I made sure to slam the door as hard as I could. The whole house shook.

“Stay down,” Lucas whispered as we huddled behind the bleachers.

“Okay.”

We had almost been seen. I managed to peek over my shoulder as I crouched there in the dirt under the bleachers in the football stadium. Jason and the other football players were walking through the bleachers, searching. I knew who they were searching for, but I wasn’t sure why.

“Why are they looking for you?”

Lucas looked over at me, his eyes locking onto mine.

“They still want me to join them.”

My eyes grew wide.

“But you’re not—”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Why would Jason-fucking-Morris think you’d want anything to do with them, Lucas?” I whispered. “They’re assholes.”

Lucas chewed at his lip.

“You’re obviously so not.”

He gave a nervous smile.

“You’re not—you’re not going to join them, are you?”

“I’d rather die.”