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I count the bills. There’s enough for the rent. Maybe she’s thinking of me, wherever she is. Maybe she’ll come back.
The bills pressed to my chest, I sit down hard on the floor. Looks like I don’t have to go away yet. The relief wrenches a sob out of me.
I can stay.
Chapter Eighteen
West
“Have you seen Syd today?” Nate asks.
“No, but you should have. Isn’t she in your bio class?”
He shrugs. “I skipped it.”
It shouldn’t come as a shock, and yet it does. I look at him and don’t know what to say.
Not sure I know him anymore.
It’s been months since we last played video games together. The summer break went by fast. It’s been at least three months since our big fight and the godawful night at that party when we had to get him home and watch over him all night as he alternatively puked his guts out and curled up moaning.
He’s had many more migraines since then, even if he tries to hide them from me. He’s changed. He’s lost weight.
And Kash is still here. When I asked him about it, he said Syd convinced him to stay. He often waits for her at school to walk her home. I dunno why. Nate and me, we take care of that. I told him as much, but he just shrugged, grinned, and kept at it.
Just as well, since Nate often skips school these days. I’m worried about him, but he won’t tell me what’s wrong.
“I haven’t seen her,” I mutter as we enter our building. “But she seems happier.”
“And prettier,” Nate mutters.
I say nothing. I thought we weren’t touching that. Her. “Maybe she’s happy we’re back to school?”
“Yeah, could be that. With her mom not around anymore, it has to get lonely.”
“What do you mean?”
“Fuck, West. You serious?” He tosses me an incredulous look. “You haven’t figured it out?”
“Figure out what? I met her mom when they first moved in here. I thought she was just working weird hours?”
“No, man, she’s not here. Didn’t Syd tell you about it?” He leans on the stair banister and closes his eyes, looking exhausted. “Fuck. She told me, and Kash. I thought she told you too.”
I’m so fucking stunned I don’t want to sit around and talk, push him to tell me what’s going on with him. It’s a fruitless exercise anyway. He talks less and less, and never to me.
Like Sydney, from the looks of it.
“How about eating something?” he mutters. “I’m starving.”
“I’ll make sandwiches,” I say automatically. “I’ll just… shit, Grandpa. I need to fix him lunch, or he’ll be pissed.”
That’s a good enough excuse for escaping Nate’s concerned gaze and taking a moment to gather my wits. I enter my apartment, close the door and lean back against it, my heart hammering.
Why didn’t she tell me? Why won’t she talk to me? Why won’t Nate let me in about his problems? Or Kash?
I thought I had friends. I thought not talking to Syd about wanting her was what I had to do to keep these friends, and here I am: the idiot who’s left outside.
And then Grandpa stands hollering from his bedroom, and for once I’m grateful for the distraction.
