Torn Away

“Always something in this place,” my grandmother said, and scurried off, as if the tension in the room was too much for her.

Finally, Clay pursed his lips so tight they became white. He turned his face up to the ceiling and cursed. “Sonofabitch!” He seemed to struggle against indecision for a few seconds, his body twitching to go one way and then another, and then he let loose and stomped away.

I hated that Lexi and Meg were watching me cower under Clay’s rage. But when I turned my eyes to them, they almost looked frightened, too. I wondered if they’d had to endure moments like this themselves. I wondered if that was why they were so relentlessly trying to draw me into some sort of fight. Did they really hate me, or did they want to use me to deflect Clay’s attention off them?

“Nice going, orphan,” Meg said with a smirk.

I didn’t bother to answer, just left, forgetting about my laundry, which was still down in the basement. Forgetting about Meg and Lexi and the hole in the wall and my grandfather, who still stood, pressing his dry, blunt fingertips against it. Forgetting about everything but getting away.

CHAPTER

SEVENTEEN

I stormed onto the porch and pulled my backpack from behind the couch. My hands were shaking, and I still could hear the faintest ring of a siren in the back of my mind. I hated myself for letting them get to me. I hated myself for being scared. But mostly I hated being here. I wanted out.

I dug out my cell phone and called Ro

“Ro

The voice mail beeped that I had exceeded my time limit. I thought about calling again. And again and again, leaving the same message over and over, begging until he relented, the way Marin used to do sometimes. Ro

But instead of calling Ro

“Hey, Jers, what’s up?”

I sniffled, wanting to sound happy and excited to be talking to her, too, but hearing her voice only made the tears keep coming. She sounded normal, like her life was normal. It was unfair, and I missed her, and I wanted my life to be normal, too. “Hi,” I said.

“You okay? You don’t sound good.”

“I’m not good.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I hate it here. I want to come home.” I knew how ridiculous that sounded—there was no home to come to.

“Is it really bad?” she asked.

I told her about Meg and Lexi, about Clay’s claims that he wasn’t really my father, about Tonette saying I was fat, and about the girls shutting me in the basement. “I keep trying to call Ro

Dani paused, and I knew her well enough to know that she was probably twisting the end of her auburn hair around two fingers nervously, her brow furrowed, her top two teeth sunk into her bottom lip while she tried to figure out how best to break bad news to me. “She talked to Ro

“She doesn’t know him,” I said angrily. “He’s a disgusting alcoholic. And he’s mean. He yells at me and his face gets really red when he’s mad and I’m scared of him. I’m scared of what he’ll do next. Tell her that. Tell her I’m sleeping outside and that I hear coyotes out here all night long and that nobody is going to fight for custody, because nobody wants me. Especially not here.”

“Maybe it’s not as bad as you think it is,” she said. She sounded uncomfortable, as if she were reaching for excuses. “I mean, I know it hurts to be called names, but it’s not like you’re in any sort of danger.”

“You don’t understand,” I said bitterly. “You don’t have to live on a porch. You…” I didn’t finish. You have a mom.

“I know. You’re right. I’m sorry, Jers, I really am. Maybe she’ll change her mind. I’ll keep asking.”

“Thanks,” I said. “Do you have power back?”

“We got ours back last night. Which was good, because our phones were dead. But a lot of people still don’t have service. Who knows how long it’ll be before they get all the towers working? We’ve got air-conditioning again, thank God, because it felt like it was about ninety today. But they’re saying it’ll be another week, probably, before they get everyone else’s power on. Not that it really matters on the south side of town. Electricity is kind of useless when you don’t have a house to put it in, you know?”

I thought about our house. About Ro

“Have you heard from Jane yet?”

“Uh-uh. But I heard from Josie Maitlin that Jane’s house was totally destroyed, like yours. Josie didn’t know for sure, but she thought maybe Jane went up to Kansas City to stay with family.”

I sagged with relief. Generally speaking, Josie Maitlin was an endless source of toxic gossip, but for once her report passed on good news. Jane had made it through the tornado alive. “And she’s okay?” I asked.

“Josie said she thought she heard that Jane got hurt, but she didn’t know for sure. Nobody really knows anything about anybody right now. We’re all going on what we hear. Some people have been meeting up at the library, because it’s got power and computers and stuff. I saw a couple kids from theater club there yesterday. It was a real cry-fest.”

I felt a pang in my chest. I wanted to be there so badly. Dani’s mom was wrong—those were the people I needed most right now, not mean, drunk Clay Cameron.

We talked a little more, the mosquitoes coming out and pestering me as it got closer to evening. I was hungry, and I wondered if I’d be welcome inside for di

Finally, Dani had to go, but before we hung up, she said, “One more thing.”

“Yeah?”

She paused, and then said, “You’re not go

“Just tell me.”

“Okay. So… my mom said Ro

Anger hissed through me. “Like he hasn’t already caused enough? Does he really think I’m not going to feel any pain if I don’t go to the funerals? Like, what? I’ll forget they’re dead?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “My mom tried to tell him how messed up it would be for you not to be there, but he said you’ve been through enough already and he wasn’t going to change his mind about it.”