Freeing Carter (26 page)

"
I hope you know what you
'
re doing
,
Coach.
"
Without another word
,
she walks out.

Chapter Eleven

It
'
s crazy how easy it is to avoid someone you live with. I guess it helps when they
'
re probably avoiding you
,
too. She knows
that
I know. Not about the bottle at work
,
but from our phone call. About the way she spent her day. I
'
m pretty sure she knows something about Grandpa
,
too. She had to have seen the missed calls
,
which means she would have called them back. They would have told her I went down there.

But still
,
nothing. No knock on my bedroom door. No promises that it won
'
t happen again or vows that I don
'
t have to work in the store. No Chinese food for dinner
.
It all makes me even
angrier
.
Maybe it's cruel of me to want her to feel bad
for what she
'
s done and to try
to
make it up to me. I deserve at least that
,
right? Is a little
remorse
too much to ask?

I can
'
t stop seeing that stupid bottle.
In my head, I'm repeating the words about it being mine over and over again, when, really, I want everyone to know it's hers and that
she
'
s letting it take her over in a way she never did before
. I want everyone to know
I
'
m trapped in the middle
,
the worm in the bottom of a Tequila bottle
,
wrong on all sides of me. I just want to do the right thing
,
but it
'
s always out of reach.

Without my usual bowl of cereal
,
I wait for her in the morning. It was a last minute decision. The coward inside me wanted to pretend it didn
'
t happen
,
but then I saw one of Sara
'
s stupid Barney dolls and remembered I
'
m her brother and it
'
s my job to look out for her.

Man up
,
I keep telling myself
,
and now it
'
s time to do it.

"
Oh. Carter
,
you startled me
,"
she says as she walks into the kitchen. I don
'
t reply. She starts making her coffee and I just stand there
,
arms crossed
,
picturing the bottle and her voice and how she looked laying in her bed.

I want to grab her and shake her
and t
ell her I
'
m tired of it. That I don
'
t want to do it anymore
,
but I can
'
t.

Holding her cup
,
she leans against the counter and stares at me. She knows I
'
m upset and I almost revel in i
t. Mom bites her lip. Takes a drink. Shifts the way she leans from one side to another before she finally talks.
"
About yesterday
...
I just want you to know I had a bad day. I
'
m sorry
,
. I won
'
t
—
"

"Do what you want, but not when Sara is here."
A bad day? A bad fucking day? How many bad days have I had lately? No
,
how many has she given me and I still deal with it. I don
'
t turn to a bottle. I can
'
t listen to it. Can
'
t hear any promises because even though I know better than to believe them
,
I want them to be true.
"
Sara comes home today. She doesn
'
t deserve it.
"

Mom nods. Water pools in her eyes and her hand starts to shake. Before she can make me feel guilty
,
I walk away. As soon as I open the front door
,
Sara
bursts
in.

"
Carter! Carter!
"
But she doesn
'
t take the time to stop
to
talk to me. She
'
s too busy. Too much to do
,
so she keep running down the hall and to the kitchen.

With the door closed behind me
,
I cut off Bill before he can start. I know what
'
s coming next anyway
,
considering it
'
s been a few weeks since the last time he shoved me further in the middle of Mom
'
s drama.
"
Everything
'
s fine. There
'
s nothing to worry about. I
'
d never let anything happen to Sara.
"

"
Carter
,"
Bill calls
,
but I keep walking.

"
I have to go
,
Bill. I said nothing
'
s wrong. I
'
m just having a bad day.
"
But I
'
m sober
,
regardless.

In my truck
,
I can
'
t help but laugh at my lies. Nothing is fine. There
is
something to worry about. But the one truth I always know is nothing will happen to Sara. I will always make sure of that. Somehow I
'
ll make everything
is
fine. I won
'
t let there be anything to worry about.

***

Monday
,
I
'
m able to avoid Kira pretty well. I look around for Travis
,
but he
'
s not here. I text him and he
replies
that he
's
skipping
,
which totally isn
'
t cool. I
'
d rather be anywhere
but here. Still
,
he
'
s taking a big risk
,
one I
'
m kind of surprised about because if you get caught skipping
,
you can
'
t play in the next game.

Unfortunately
,
I can
'
t avoid Mrs. Z who wants to know how I
'
m doing on the-assignment-that-shall-not-be-named to which I pretend I
'
m working hard on it. The rest of the week it
'
s not as easy. Kira keeps talking to me in class
,
which is cool and I want to talk to her
,
but I keep seeing her dark hand wrapped around that damn bottle. I can
'
t stop wondering if she thinks I
'
m a drunk. Why else would someone stuff a bottle in a hiding place like that?

Mom
'
s easier to avoid
,
because she
'
s doing the same. I catch her looking at me
,
which makes me feel like shit
,
so I try not to look at her at all. But it
'
s all I think about. Her
,
Sara
,
Bill
,
even Mel because I keep getting death stares from her all week at school. All of it takes up the space in my head
,
pushing basketball and school work out of the way.

I have to pay attention to Mom to make sure she will be okay
,
for Sara
'
s sake.

Friday rolls around and I
'
m not sure how it got here so fast
,
but it
'
s a game day
,
so I
'
m pumped. Practice is great
,
but there
'
s nothing like a game to make everything else go away. Somehow we managed to score two Friday home games in a row.

"
You have plans after the game?
"
Travis asks as we
'
re tying our shoes in the locker room.
"
It
'
s like
,
I don
'
t even see you anymore.
"
He fakes a cry.
"
Like
,
we
'
re not boys anymore or something.  I miss you
,
man!
"
Travis moves in like he
'
s going to hug me. Laughing
,
I push him back.

"
You
'
re such an idiot.
"

"
Is it someone else? Tell me you haven
'
t found someone else!
"
He
'
s laughing so hard he hardly gets the words out. It feels good to laugh. I haven
'
t really felt like it all week. When we settle down enough to talk
,
he speaks again.
"
Seriously though
...
we
'
re both single now. Let
'
s go out. Have fun. Be wild. Meet girls. Kiss girls. You know
,
like back in the day.
"

And I need it
,
but the thing is
,
I
'
m not really in the mood. Which makes me all sorts of lame because what guy in his right mind doesn
'
t want to go out on a Friday night?
"
Let me talk to
M
om after the game. Make sure
..."
everything is okay.
"
She doesn
'
t mind.
"

"
Sounds good. Let
'
s go kick some ass.
"

***

It
'
s halftime and the wrong team is kicking ass. It
'
s killing me because we don
'
t lose. Not like this
,
and by the way everyone on the team is looking at me
,
I know
they think
it
'
s my fault. I
'
m playing like crap. Can
'
t get my head in the game. Mom always comes to my home games and she
'
s not here. My eyes won
'
t stop scanning the crowd for her and Twig
,
willing them to be here. Needing them to be here so I can stop wondering if something
'
s wrong. Stop seeing her passed out in her bed
,
this time with Sara there and me losing a game instead of protecting her.

"
Shaw? You okay tonight?
"
Coach yells at me during the timeout.

No
...
No
,
I
'
m not.
"
Yeah
,
I
'
m good.
"
Stay or go? What will happen if I walk out of the game? I
'
ll lose basketball
,
that
'
s for sure. The selfish part of me is too scared to take that risk.