Where We Used to Roam Jenn Bishop (red white royal blue TXT) đ
- Author: Jenn Bishop
Book online «Where We Used to Roam Jenn Bishop (red white royal blue TXT) đ». Author Jenn Bishop
âThat sucks,â I said.
Mom eyeballed me. âEmma. Language.â
âOh, come on. She said âsucks,â all right? Itâs not like we never hear you or Dad swear.â
I sat next to him on the sofa. âWill you get to miss school?â
Austin glanced up at Mom.
âThe recovery from surgery should allow you to be back in school after New Yearâs. But how about this: you can have tomorrow off. Letâs call it a mental health day.â
âCan I have one too?â I asked.
âDo you have a torn labrum?â Mom asked.
âNo,â I said meekly.
âAs it is, this temporary disability is going to throw a wrench in your studies, A. I know Savannah means well, but I donât want to take advantage of her. You know, Iâll call the front office tomorrow and see if thereâs anyone else who can help.â
âGreat. So some rando can shadow me all day and take notes for me?â
âCan I help?â I said. âWith homework and stuff?â
âIâll learn to write with my left hand before Iâm letting a sixth grader do my assignments for me. No offense, Em.â
The thought of asking if Becca could help flitted across my mind. Though if Austin didnât want my help, he probably wouldnât want Beccaâs either.
Mom made sure Austin was okay and told us she needed to run over to the store for a few hours. Once sheâd left, Austin turned on the TV, flipping through the channels for a while before settling on a Saturday Night Live rerun.
I shouldâve gotten started on my homework, but instead I stayed on the couch with Austin. The episode was a good one, too, with Melissa McCarthy. With each skit, Austin calmed down more. First laughing just a little, then laughing so hard he grimaced because the laughter shook his shoulder.
I was nervous about his surgeryânone of us had needed surgery before, not even Mom or Dadâbut relieved he didnât seem annoyed at me anymore.
We watched Austinâs and my favorite skit twice, the one where Melissa dresses up as Barb Kellner and tries to start a business for eating old pizzas. BARB KELLNER, PIZZA EATER, it would say on the side of her van. It reminded me of Kennedy and her obsession with our middle schoolâs cafeteria rolls, so I searched for it on YouTube and texted it to her.
Life goals, she wrote back.
It was only the next morning as I headed out the door that I realized Iâd forgotten to text Becca about Austin.
CHAPTER SIX
A complete labrum tear. Thatâs what the specialists said. Basically, Austinâs tendon wasnât attached to the bone anymore and the only way they could reattach it was with surgery. They needed to wait a few weeks for the inflammation to calm down, plus there were the holidays, so the earliest they could get him in was December 27.
But the truth is, as nervous as I was about the surgery, it went fine. The weird part was how Austin acted when they brought him home from the hospital. He was like one of those zombies from The Walking Deadânot that Iâve actually seen the show. Too scary. Still, the zombie version of Austin talked all funny, slurring his words. And even weirder were his delayed reactions. How it took him longer to laugh at something funny. And how he couldnât follow a conversationâhe was always two steps behind.
Dad said it was because he was on some strong painkillers and that heâd be like that for only a few days, which was true, but still, it freaked me out. It was unsettling, seeing someone you know well act so out of character.
But by the time we returned to school after break, Austin mostly seemed like his old self. Sure, he couldnât play with the basketball team, but he was still going to practice and games to cheer on his teammates. And Savannah was over all the time, helping him with assignments.
Maybe, if I could go back and find the first sign that something had changed, it was that first Tuesday in February. I donât know what it is about February, but even though it has the fewest days of any month, somehow it always feels the longest.
Every day was cold and gray. Icy snow that refused to melt crusted the edges of the sidewalks in town. The sun was setting well before five, so by the time art club was over, it was too dark to walk back home alone. Dad had been covering for Shannon Malone, the early-morning meteorologist who was out on maternity leave, so he was home in the afternoon to pick me up from school.
That Tuesday as I hopped into his Audi, he asked if I wanted to go out for ice cream. âDo you have bad news or something?â I asked.
Dad chuckled.
âIâm serious. Weâre not a random âgoing out for ice cream after schoolâ kind of family.â
Dad pouted. âDidnât realize I needed a reason to grab a milkshake with my favorite girl. My mistake. Should we just head home, then?â he asked with a smile.
âNo.â I laughed. âNow Iâm hungry for a milkshake.â
âThatâs my girl.â
After savoring our milkshakesâcoffee for Dad, vanilla for meâwe grabbed a chocolate one for Austin.
When we got home, Savannahâs car wasnât parked in front of our house as usual, so I offered to bring up Austinâs milkshake. I wanted to tell him about the band showcase Kennedy invited me to, which was happening at her old school over February break, and how Lucy had a crush on one of the boys in this band called Strawberry Jamminâ. Kennedy thought it was the dorkiest band name ever, but I thought it was kind of cute. I liked to picture a little strawberry behind a drum kit, and another with a bass guitar.
The only concert
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