Chapter 53

Jacky looked for Ryan after his last class. He’d already gone to his locker and gotten his books, a tiny bit thankful that Ryan hadn’t been around to “help,” then became worried when the halls began to clear out and still no Ryan.

He was just about to text him when he caught sight of that blond head.

Instead of coming from the math wing, where Jacky knew Ryan had Trigonometry, Ryan was coming from the direction of the band room and the auditorium and the front of the building. That downturned head, the slow shuffle, and Jacky knew Ryan had gone down to guidance. When, though? Jacky had seen him at lunch, so it was after that, at least.

“Hey,” Jacky said.

“Hey,” said Ryan.

Jacky struggled with the instinct to put his arm around Ryan. There were still a few students in the hallways, and while none of them were Ryan’s friends, everyone knew who Ryan was, and word would get around. Jacky still didn’t know where Ryan stood with that. Plus, Ryan had his hands shoved in the pockets of his jacket.

So Jacky resigned himself to waiting until they were on the sidewalks beyond the school, and casually tried to slip his fingers into the crook of Ryan’s elbow.

Ryan shrugged him off and stepped away.

“What’s wrong?” Jacky asked. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Ryan’s flat tone said something very different.

Jacky glanced around; there were cars coming, so maybe Ryan just didn’t want to be seen. “Okay,” he said.

After a few minutes of walking silently side by side, Jacky said, “I texted Monica about the funeral but she never texted me back. Do you know if she’s home sick or what?”

Ryan shook his head.

Jacky gave up trying to talk to Ryan after that. He was eager to get home so he and Ryan could curl up on the couch or something. The knowledge of it being Ryan’s last night at Jacky’s house sat heavy in his stomach. He didn’t want Ryan to go, and he was sure it was Ryan’s anxiety about going to the group home that was making him so quiet and moody.

At home, however, an unfamiliar car sat in the driveway – a silver Volkswagen Jetta. When they got closer, the driver’s side door opened and Monica got out. “Hi,” she called.

She wasn’t the worst person who could have shown up uninvited, Jacky knew. Then a woman who could only be Monica’s mother got out of the passenger side.

“Hi,” Jacky said uncertainly when Ryan gave no reaction.

Mrs. Johnston greeted Ryan and hugged him. “Oh, honey, how are you doing?”

“I’m fine,” Ryan said woodenly from behind her head of poofy blonde hair.

“You weren’t in school,” Jacky said to Monica. It wasn’t exactly an accusation.

“Yeah…” They all headed inside. Jacky had to take a few long steps ahead of everyone else to pull out his keys and unlock the door. He dropped them and tried not to feel everyone pitying him as he reached down to pick them up. “Last night I just sort of started crying about everything and Mom said I could take the day off from school.”

“Let’s sit down in the living room,” said Mrs. Johnston, pulling Ryan along with her.

Jacky sat in one of the armchairs while Monica and Mrs. Johnston flanked Ryan on the couch. Ryan looked intensely like he didn’t want to be there.

“Monica’s been so upset about this, especially after she heard you’re going to go live at some group home. With strangers.” Mrs. Johnston ran her fingers over Ryan’s hair. “Honey, I wish you had told us about your situation. We’d love if you came to stay with us. It would be no problem at all. Harrison has an office he never uses, we could convert it into a bedroom for you. What do you think?”

Ryan didn’t answer.

Suddenly, Jacky felt like he shouldn’t be there. He felt like Ryan shouldn’t be having to make decisions like this, not right now.

“Honey, I know you don’t want to impose on us, but it isn’t a problem, I swear. Do you want me to call your social worker and talk to her?”

Finally Ryan cleared his throat and spoke. “No, that’s okay.”

“Okay, so you’ll call and tell her? That’s good. Now, I’m sure… uh, what was your name again?” Mrs. Johnston now addressed Jacky.

“Jacky,” he said.

“I’m sure Jacky’s mom wouldn’t mind if you stayed here while we get the room ready for you. We can move all your things from your bedroom. We can even paint the walls whatever color you want. How does that sound?”

Ryan shook his head. From the ducking of his head, to the way Ryan tensed his jaw and started blinking, Jacky knew Ryan needed this lady to get her claws off him.

“I think Ryan’s already made his decision about where he’s staying,” Jacky said.

Mrs. Johnston raised her eyebrows at him. “If I had known about the situation, I would have been able to offer to take him in back when he was making these decisions. I’m sure if staying with us had been an option, Ryan would have chosen to take it.”

“It doesn’t make sense,” Monica said, “to go live with a foster family when we already know him.” She put a hand on Ryan’s arm. “We’ve been talking about it ever since we found out,” she told him. “The idea of it. It wouldn’t be a big deal. Dad said if you become an emancipated minor, you can live wherever you want. You don’t have to do whatever the state tells you to do.”

“Why don’t we call your social worker right now.” Mrs. Johnston pulled out her phone. “What’s her number?”

“No,” said Jacky, standing up.

“This isn’t your decision, Jacky,” said Monica. “It’s Ryan’s.”

“Can’t you see he’s not in a place to make a decision about anything right now?” Jacky felt his voice rising, both in pitch and volume. “Can’t you just leave him alone to think about it? Just for a little while?”

Mrs. Johnston shook her head. “But it makes sense for Ryan to come live with us. Ryan, honey, what’s your social worker’s number?”

“No!” Jacky took a step forward and slapped the iPhone out of Mrs. Johnston’s hand. Her mouth dropped open and she gaped at him, horrified, while Monica scrambled to pick the phone up off the floor. “You need to leave. Now.”

“Excuse me,” Mrs. Johnston said, standing up. She wasn’t as tall as Jacky, but for some reason her being an adult, or maybe being a woman, intimidated him. He stepped back. She looked around like she was just seeing the house for the first time, then she demanded, “Are your parents home?”

“Mom,” Monica whispered. She stood up too, clutching the cell phone to her chest. Her eyes seemed to be apologizing, but Jacky didn’t care. He wanted her gone too. He needed to help Ryan, who was curled up and silent and didn’t seem to be breathing.

“My mom’s still at work,” Jacky said. “She gets home at three—”

“What about your father?” Jacky sucked in a breath at the word. “I’m sure he would love to know that his son is so casual about assaulting a woman.”

“Assault?” Jacky stuttered. “I didn’t—”

“Jacky’s father is dead.” Ryan’s words stopped the room. Everyone turned to look at him as he unfolded himself and stood up. He didn’t look at anyone, just glared at the floor. “And Jacky’s right. You need to leave.”

Monica’s face turned red. She backed away, and then returned to tug at her mother, who was looking between Ryan and Jacky with a furrow in her brow. “Come on, Mom. Let’s just let him think about it, okay?”

As they passed near him, Jacky backed up, too. He didn’t want any more accusations of assault.

The door closing left the two boys in silence.

Jacky couldn’t read Ryan’s expression. His clenched fists and tight jaw looked angry. But was Ryan angry at Jacky, too? All Jacky needed was for Ryan to look at him. If he could see Ryan’s eyes, he would know.

Ryan didn’t look at him.

“I’m sorry.” Jacky’s voice came out choked and it was only then that Jacky knew he was going to cry. “I didn’t mean to do that. To… to hit her, I guess I hit her, and I didn’t mean to…”

Now Ryan looked at him. Only he was blurry, and when Jacky blinked and felt the hot tears roll down his face, Ryan was suddenly in front of him, wiping them away. “Don’t cry,” Ryan said, his voice husky.

Somehow that only made Jacky cry more. And now Ryan was crying, too, but at least now Jacky could press himself into Ryan’s chest and grip the back of his jacket and Ryan could crush his arms around Jacky and they didn’t have to think about anyone else or going anywhere or making any decisions.

—

Boy, these two cry a lot… Do you think Jacky was right to ask Monica and Mrs. Johnston leave?