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Underneath the Sycamore Tree(12)

Author:B. Celeste

To this day, I love the song. It reminds me of Mama when she was happy. When I saw the rainbow at Lo’s funeral, it made me think of the tune. I even started humming it until Mama walked away from us. Grandma told me it was okay, but I still feel guilty.

The song is one that I play on my bad days. It gets me thinking about all the good times I had growing up. My childhood wasn’t sad, not until Lo passed. Mama and Dad would take us on long rides every Sunday where we’d stop for snacks and sodas. They’d take us to waterparks where we’d ride every single ride until we were sunburnt and sore. Dad leaving was only step one into the roller coaster of hell, but up until that point we were fine.

When I get out of bed to an empty house, I’m reminded that it’s no longer like that for us. The family outings I used to look forward to are nothing but distant memories. When Dad and Cam leave, they don’t always ask if Kaiden or I want to go. They assume we won’t want to, and it makes me want to ask if he remembers the Sunday rides and little vacations like I do.

School tomorrow will be a nice distraction from here. I can bury myself in homework instead of thinking about what once was. Staying in the past means halting the future. I may not get one, so I want to at least try making the most of the present.

After pouring myself a bowl of cereal, I sit on the couch in the living room and turn on the television. It isn’t often I watch anything because Dad and Cam like to watch the news at night after work, so I leave them to the depressing reports on twenty-first century racism, sexism, and shootings. The few times I do watch TV, I indulge on my two guilty pleasures—soap operas thanks to Grandma and reality shows thanks to Mama.

It’s ironic, really. Mama would always tell Grandma how ridiculous soap operas are because they’re not real. Yet, any reality show I’ve watched is the same. It’s all fake drama focused on one-upping people in extravagant ways, highlighting the type of lives that people like us fantasize about having. Mama likes getting lost in a life she doesn’t live, just like Grandma loves losing herself in drama that isn’t her own.

They just have different motives. Mama doesn’t want to think about Lo. Grandma doesn’t want to think about Mama’s denial.

And me? I just like the posed fights.

I’m surprised when three o’clock rolls around and the front door opens. I’m still binging episodes of The Bachelor with my bare feet perched on the couch when Kaiden strolls in. A few feet behind him is Rachel.

Her high pitch giggle makes me cringe as Kaiden closes the door behind her. She’s got a huge pink purse dangling from her elbow as she brushes against Kaiden’s arm. I feel awkward staring, but it doesn’t seem to faze her.

Kaiden notices what I’m watching and makes a face. “You actually watch this shit?”

I blush. “I used to watch it with Mama.”

Rachel glances at the screen. “Oh! I love this show. This season has been amazing.”

Kaiden snickers. “See, you I’m not surprised over.”

The insult seemingly goes right over her head, because she smiles at him like he just complimented her. I stifle a giggle and cover it with a cough. Kaiden catches on, grinning at me from beside her.

“Aren’t we going to your room, Kaid?” Rachel practically purrs the words at him. Suddenly, I feel awkward for being here and blush over what I may hear if they do disappear behind closed doors.

My eyes widen when he grabs her bag and pulls something out. “We brought you some homework. Figured you’d want to catch up on some shit before tomorrow.”

Hesitantly, I accept the papers.

Rachel whines. “Kaiden—”

“Head up. You know where it is.”

When she turns, he smacks her butt. My cheeks burn. Trying to play it off, I glance over the homework to see what I’ve missed.

“Thanks for getting this.”

He doesn’t answer.

I look up at him. He’s watching me with a tilted head and curved lips. “You might want to put some music on. Rach gets loud.”

My jaw drops as he winks and heads for the stairs. Not knowing what to do with that, I grab my phone, earbuds, and backpack, before heading outside. It’s nice out, not too hot or cold, and settle at the picnic table with my schoolwork.

When You Are My Sunshine pops up on the screen at random shuffle, I get the answer to my question earlier.

“I love you, Lo,” I whisper to the wind.

Chapter Six

During lunch on Wednesday, I choose the furthest empty table from the others and pick through my salad. A dull headache still resides in my temples, which does nothing for my appetite. I force myself to nibble on some lettuce since I skipped breakfast this morning despite Cam’s insistence on eating my eggs.

The morning flew by. I handed in my late assignments and caught up on class notes. Teachers told me I could see them during free period if I need help, but I have no intention of doing that. Once I get home, I’ll close myself in my room and go through what I missed. Thankfully, nobody bothers me there, so there’s no excuse as to why I can’t study.

I’m playing with a crouton when a chair across from me is pulled back, the legs scraping noisily against the tile floor. Wincing at the noise, I glance up to find Kaiden there. Brows arched, I sit in silence waiting for him to tell me why he’s graced me with his presence.

As weird as I find our lack of communication during school hours, I’ve gone along with it. If he doesn’t want to engage with me in the halls or before class, fine. It isn’t like we have much to say anyway.

He eyes my salad. “You should really eat something more than that. They’ve got other stuff to choose from.”

They have a buffet of inedible looking food choices, none which looked half as appetizing as the limp lettuce mix. At least I knew what the contents were, because the chicken they offered looked more like meatloaf.

“I like salad.”

“Doesn’t look like it.”

I’ve barely eaten more than a few leaves of lettuce. Most of it rests untouched in the plastic container I bought it in. When I get headaches, the nausea makes my stomach churn. The smell of whatever they’re overcharging for doesn’t help.

“I’m just saying, you need to eat more.”

My teeth grind. “Stop telling me what to do. Just because everyone else at this school blindly follows you doesn’t mean I will.”

The tables around us get quiet. Biting the inside of my lip and glancing at the stares I warrant from the simple statement, I realize I just made a big mistake. People don’t say anything about what Kaiden does to people who talk back, because nobody is dumb enough to do it.

Shrinking down, I stare at my lunch.

“You know,” he replies casually, “the reason why people do what I say around here isn’t some power play. It’s all about tactic.”

My eyes lift to meet his. He reaches over and plucks a crouton from my salad, rolling it in his fingers before popping it in his mouth with a crunch to fill the short lived silence.

Wiping his hands, he crosses his arms on his chest. “They know I don’t come from a powerful family. My mother is just some love struck fool who married a man that, as far as I’m concerned, is more pathetic than any other human I know, and my father is a deadbeat who isn’t worth my time. The people here know who to follow because it benefits them. They want popularity? They make me happy. They want to be left alone? They stay out of my way. And you know something, Mouse?”

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