Where We Used to Roam Jenn Bishop (red white royal blue TXT) 📖

But when I caught his eyes, they looked so dead. Like he didn’t have any faith in the words coming out of his mouth either.

All I could think about were those articles I’d read online. And that number. Five hundred thousand. Already, over a hundred people had died from opioid overdoses in Massachusetts just this year. Did he know? If he did, how could he have ever done this? How could he have started?

Mom was right. He should have never played football.

I stomped back into my room.

“So, are you coming down?” he finally said, his voice calmer now, as if all this fuss was about dinner. Who could even think about eating? “What should I tell Mom and Dad?”

“You’re pretty good at lying—you figure it out.” I slammed the door behind me, my heart in my throat, and climbed back into bed.

I got it now, why Mom and Dad were sending him away. That article made it clear. Austin needed a restart. He needed to get away from everything that reminded him of the person he’d become the past six months.

“Emma?” It was Dad who came up, Dad who knocked on my door, letting himself in before I’d even said he could. But then, I guess we were done with that now. Austin had blown their trust, blown it for the both of us.

“Emma, we’d really love to have you at the dinner table.” Dad sat at the edge of my bed.

“I’m not hungry.”

“I know.” He squeezed my feet through the covers. “Your mom and I haven’t been that hungry the past few days either. And you know that’s saying a lot for both of us. But we have to stick together. We’re a family.”

“Are you mad at him too?”

“I’ve wrestled with a whole lot of feelings the past few days. It probably wasn’t the worst thing for you to have been away. I’ll be honest, Em, we’re all just trying to do our best right now. And for me that means trying to understand Austin and what he’s been going through. Addiction is a disease. It’s not a choice Austin made—it’s chemical. And it’s caused him to behave in ways that aren’t like him. All this time he’s been struggling with this on his own, but from now on, it’s a team effort. You know your brother; he’s always at his best when he’s part of a team. With help, I believe he can beat this. And we’re working very hard to get him the absolute best help out there.”

A team effort.

“What do you say? Do you think you could come down and join us?”

I didn’t think I could do it, sit at the table with my brother like everything was going to be fine. So I lied. “I think my stomach’s a little upset,” I said. “From the long bus ride. Can I come down for some cereal in a bit?”

“Sure thing, E.” Dad pulled down my shades before leaving the room.

He left the door ajar on his way out, and for a while I just lay there listening to the three of them downstairs. The clinking of silverware against the plates. I couldn’t remember such a quiet dinner in my house. Used to be, Dad would have some silly story from work—the sportscaster Mike was always up to something. And Mom usually had a billion questions for me and Austin about what had happened at school. And Austin would be filling them in about practice or a track meet. Used to be, I was the quietest one there. Just listening to all of them, or trying to open my mouth in time to share a story from school.

In the shadows of the hallway, I could almost see Austin as he stood there when I told him my biggest fear. I shouldn’t have ever said it out loud. It was too big, too scary. Not just for me, but for him.

And that look in his eyes when he replied? Like the person he was the most angry with was himself?

I wanted to forget that more than anything, but I was afraid I couldn’t.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Mom dropped me off at school Tuesday. She said I didn’t have to go if I didn’t want to, but the last place I wanted to be was home with her and Austin. I could still barely look at him. Plus, I had to get through only three more days and then we’d be out for summer.

Kennedy and Lucy were waiting for me by my locker. For once Kennedy wasn’t her bouncy Tiggery self. More like Eeyore. “Emma,” she said. “Please. Can we talk?”

Down the hall, I could hear it starting up again. “Meow? Meoooowwww.” A math teacher popped his head out into the hallway and yelled, “Enough of that!” He muttered, “Kids these days.”

“Emma?”

“No,” I blurted back. “We can’t. I have a lot going on right now and—” I remembered the name Mom had given me, of the counselor at school. Mrs. Dwyer. Mom had said she’d call her first thing and if I needed a place to go, any time, I could hang out there. “I have to go,” I said. “Sorry.”

I pushed past them and into the crowded hallway as the bell rang to signal five minutes till homeroom. I would survive the next three days, even if it meant spending my lunch periods in the counselor’s office.

As I was packing up my backpack at the end of the day, Lucy stopped by my locker. I couldn’t remember a time I’d ever hung out with just Lucy. Even when Kennedy was out sick for a few days this winter, Lucy was too—and it was strange seeing her without her other half.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hey.”

I was about to tell her I had to run when I realized that wasn’t fair. Lucy wasn’t Kennedy. She hadn’t told the entire grade about Becca’s kitty blanket. She was just best friends with the person