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He choked and pressed both his palms over his face.
Was he sad?
He was always sad down deep.
“You should go inside.” His voice sounded rough and wrong.
“No way, I like it best with you.”
He tried to pretend like nothing had happened the way he always did.
Tried to shove the hate into the dark spot that kept growing inside him. He didn’t want to feel that way, but every time he looked at his mom, he got madder.
Like there was something big and ugly growing in the middle of him.
Except some of that anger drained away when he felt Elena move, and he glanced that way. She held a cherry red apple out to him.
“Meems always says an apple a day keeps the doctor away. You should probably eat it if you’re feeling bad.”
He laughed a scraping sound. “She does, huh?”
But did it work if your heart was sick?
“Yep. That’s why we gotta have so many apple pies.”
“Little Apple.” Some of the hard inside him went soft. “Sounds like a good plan to me.”
“I’ve got a lot of good plans because I’ve got to go to college first, and then I’m gonna have my own store because I don’t want anyone bossing me around.”
It should have been impossible, but he laughed, and a gentle smile tugged at his mouth. “I’m going to hold you to that, Lena. I want you to chase every single one of those dreams and don’t you dare let anyone stop you.”
“You could be my partner,” she peeped with an eager smile.
He chuckled. “Doubt much you’d want me as a partner, Lena.”
“I think you’re the best partner around.”
That pain twisted inside him. A slice of warmth in the cold.
“What are you two doing out there?” A voice hollering from the backside of the house stole his attention, and he looked up to find Meems standing there, wiping her hands on her apron.
“Making plans!” Elena shouted, shifting around on her knees.
“What kind of plans?” she played along.
“Important ones.”
Meems laughed that rough, tender sound she always made, then called, “How about you two make plans to come in for lunch? It’s ready.”
Elena hopped onto her feet and extended her free hand. “We gotta go eat.”
His throat thickened and his stomach growled. “You go on.”
“You, too, Trevan Niles.” Meems’ order carried through the air, and Elena shoved her hand out further, demanding that he take it, like the little thing was going to be able to help him onto his feet.
But he guessed there was probably something about her that did, something that made him lumber onto his feet.
She flew across the vacant lot, messy hair flying behind her as she ran for Meems.
