Dead to You

CHAPTER 39

Sunday morning Mama drags us all to church, and I’m surprised it’s held right at my high school—no church building. There are a few people dressed up, but mostly they’re just wearing jeans and sweaters. The music isn’t too bad, but I don’t sing. Still, I’m surprised at how normal it is and really glad nobody makes me stand up or be healed or come to Jesus or whatever, like they do on TV.

Gracie sticks with Dad. Blake and I keep our distance from each other, and Mama looks like she’ll beat the crap out of us if we do anything. I’m not about to cross her on that. My new goal is to get my ass ungrounded so I can spend more time with Cami.

I look around the place and see a lot of people who look familiar, like from school. Cami and her family are on the other side of the auditorium and I swear I start sweating just seeing her. And when church is done and we turn around to go home, I see J-Dog and I get that scary thing in my gut. But he goes the other way and I watch him weave through people toward Cami.

I don’t think she’s broken up with him yet because he slips his arm around her. My feet cement themselves in place and I can’t take my eyes away. He leans down and kisses her and I’m getting sick. But she laughs and pulls away and shoves her purse under her arm, like it’s a buffer, and that feels better to me. It’s cool, because she doesn’t even know I’m here, so I feel good about it. It’s like what she said last night actually stayed alive until today—it didn’t die after a good night’s sleep, like most crazy good things do. I look up at the ceiling and think, Thank you, God, even though I’m pretty sure he’s not up there hanging around in the high school rafters or on the catwalk.

And when Cami and J-Dog start walking out and talking together, they look serious. Cami spies me and she flashes a big, quick smile of surprise, happy to see me. She nods like we have a plan, and I make a fist and hold it to my chest, like it’s her heart next to mine.

God, when did I turn into such a fucking sap?

I catch up to my parents and, big surprise, they didn’t even notice I wasn’t with them for the past forty-five seconds. Maybe they think church is safe or something. That’s a mistake, if you ask me.

We hang out while Mama talks with some other ladies. Lots of them are so happy to see me and tell me how much they’ve prayed for me all these years and how they felt when they found out I was home. It’s touching, really, because they get all teary about it. I like that. I just hope God doesn’t get all the credit for bringing me home, because I sure hitchhiked a hell of a long ways and walked my frozen feet off to get here.

Blake leans up against the wall and doesn’t look at anybody, doesn’t say anything, and nobody talks to him. And Gracie hops down the middle of the school hallway like the floor has hopscotch painted on it, running into people and being generally adorable. They all love her—everybody knows her name and gives her candy and shit like that. I watch her work the grandpa and grandma types and I gotta give her props. She knows what she’s doing.

Every now and then I scan the place for Cami and J-Dog, but I don’t see them. My stomach twists a little again, but I’m in control. I think about texting her, but I don’t want to get in her face about it. She’ll do it when she does it. And I’ll wait.

And then it’s time to go. We head out to the diner nearby for brunch. I guess it’s our family tradition to do that after church. And that’s cool. I like it. We are all on our best behavior. Mama and Dad talk about the service and they ask if I liked it.

I shrug. “Sure. It was fine.”

Mama looks pleased.

Gracie colors on the kids’ menu between bites of her burger, and even Blake passes the pepper when I ask him for it. We talk about plans for the week, and I still don’t know half the people they are talking about. Feels like I’m in a play and I don’t know all my lines.

I wait for the buzz in my pocket.

At home, everybody disperses. I go down to do my homework and doodle for a while, distracted. And then I go upstairs and wander, trying to find something to do so I don’t go crazy. Dad’s taking a nap and Mama and Gracie are in the living room playing a board game. Blake is nowhere. In his room as usual, probably.

I hesitate and then sit down on the floor. “Hey,” I say. Things are still a little awkward from yesterday. I haven’t really talked to either one of them alone since the family meeting. “What are you playing?”

“Chutes and Ladders,” Gracie says. “Duh.”

I laugh. “Well, I don’t know. I’ve never played it before.”

Mama looks at me and gives me this heartbreaking smile. “This was your favorite game.”

“I’m sorry I don’t remember.” I draw my knees up and hug them, rest my chin on them. “What else was my favorite?”

Mama shakes her head. “Just look at Gracie. She’s the mirror image of you. She likes practically everything you liked.”

Gracie steals a wary glance at me. “Mama, is he the real Efan or the fake Efan?”

“He’s the real deal, sweetie. There’s no fake Ethan. Blake’s just having a tough time.”

I smile at Mama. “Thank you,” I say.

Gracie looks relieved too. “You’re the real deal,” she says, like she likes that phrase.

“Yep,” I say. “Maybe I even had a lunch box like you. Did I, Mama?”

Mama smiles. “Star Wars . It was Dad’s old lunch box from when he was a kid, from the first time those movies came out. So yours was a second-generation lunch box, if you can believe it lasted that long. I bet it’s still around somewhere, all beat-up.”