“Is that your way of asking me out?” I ask, glancing up at the stars myself, searching for a sign amongst them that this is where I’m supposed to be. But again, all they do is sparkle. “Because you should know I’m not that into cars.”
He presses his hand to his heart, feigning being offended. “Ouch. Hit me where it counts.” He lowers his hand, grinning. “So what do you say?”
“To what?”
“To a date.”
“I don’t even know you.”
“Sure you do. I’m Conner, the not creepy pervert who works with Zack and likes cars.”
I shake my head, battling back a smile so I won’t encourage him more. “I don’t have time for dating,” I say, sounding sadder than I intended to.
“How old are you?” he wonders, eyeing me over.
“Sixteen.” I match his move and eye him back. “How old are you?”
“Sixteen.” He rubs his jawline while he muses. “Look at that. We’re meant for each other.”
“I don’t believe people are meant for each other.” I’m trying to be serious but he’s making it complicated.
He opens his mouth to say something else, but then his eyes drift down to his watch. “Shit, I need to get you home. Your fifteen minutes are up.”
My heart warms at the fact that he kept his word. And he gets extra brownie points when he keeps his hands to himself while he walks me to the door. He only touches me when I’m about to head up the stairs, lightly grazing his fingers across my arm.
“So you never answered my question,” he says, stuffing his hands into his pockets.
“About what?”
“About going on a date with me.”
I feel the briefest pang of disappointment. “Sorry, but I don’t have time for dates.” I start to turn for the stairs, but he captures my arm.
“I’ll take whatever time you’ll give,” he says, pulling away when I face him again. “Even if it’s just another fifteen minutes.”
I’m about to list off a million reasons why I can’t. My brother needs me. My mother needs to be watched. The bills need paid. The house needs to be taken care of. Plus, I don’t know him so therefore can’t trust him. And I need to trust him. But through the mental list, I find myself nodding, telling myself that I can spare enough time for one date. That I deserve it for all the stuff I do. And despite how hard it is to admit it, I like Conner and can see potential trust there.
“All right, Conner you have a date.” I look up at the stars, seeking a sign, an answer of approval in the only place I can.
But the sun is rising and the stars are no longer in the sky, leaving me to figure out my own answers.
Chapter 2
The beginning of when my life stood still.
Tristan
I’ve become the poster child for disappointment. Sixteen years old and I’ll never amount to anything, something my mother reminds me of every day. It’s depressing. But life is tragically depressing already. No friends. Failing school. Sucking at sports. Seeing the disappointment in my parents’ eyes every time they look at me. We don’t want you anymore. We never did. It’s the same look I’m getting now.
“You’re always doing this,” my mother says, looking like she wished I’d just disappear. “Messing stuff up. You’ll never get anywhere in life, if you keep acting like this.”
I’m sitting on my bed, trying to find the will to catch up on the countless assignments I’m behind on. But even if I got straight A’s like I used to in middle school, I’d never be good enough for my parents.
“What do you want from me?” I shut the textbook I’ve been staring at for the last few hours, having accomplished nothing. “I’m doing my best.”
She snorts a laugh as she looks at me with disdain. “Well, that’s just tragic then.” Her words eat away at me but not as much as the next thing she says. “I’m done with you, Tristan. Seriously, there’s no point in trying anymore. You’ll always screw up.”
“Then why do you keep trying?” I know it’s pointless to argue with her, but I get sick of repeatedly hearing the same thing. In fact, I heard her whispering to my dad a few weeks ago about how grateful she was that she has my older sister Ryder, otherwise she’d be left with me and that would be just tragic. I have to give her the benefit of the doubt though, because she didn’t know I was out in the hallway listening. Still, it stung.
Badly.
“Because I’m a mother, and I have to keep trying.” She shakes her head. “Why can’t you just be more like Ryder and do something with your life?”
“Because I’m not her. And I never can be her.” It’s the truth. My sister is talented at both sports and school. 4.0 GPA. Motivated. On the path to college. To a successful life.
A happy life.
“You don’t have to be her, but I wish you’d be…” She pulls a face at my grungy clothes and general lack of caring about my appearance. “Something at least.” She pauses as if waiting for me to defend myself. But what’d be the point? What she says is true—I’m a lost cause. “I don’t even want to look at you anymore.” She exasperatedly throws up her hands then storms out of my room, the same thing she’s been doing for months.
A little while later, Ryder sticks her head into my room. “You set her off again. Way to go.”
“It’s not that hard to do,” I mutter, staring at my textbook.
“You could try harder, Tristan,” she retorts, “instead of moping around all the time. Life isn’t that bad.”
“That’s easy for you to say.” I look at her and her perfection, briefly loathing her for it. “You’re not completely alone. You have friends and shit.”
“And you’re not alone either,” she replies then walks away.
The house gets really quiet for about twenty minutes before I hear it.
The thing I don’t understand.
Haven’t felt in a while.
Happiness and love.
My mother and father are laughing with Ryder about something, which they do a lot. My father doesn’t necessarily scold me like my mother does, but he always seems disappointed in me for the things I’ll never be. And Ryder, well I barely know her anymore, not since I became the family disappointment and she became the star.
I get up from my bed and head in the direction of the thing I’m unfamiliar with. The three of them are sitting around the table, eating dinner. Laughter fills their conversation. Smiles. Happiness. No one seems to notice that I haven’t joined them, and they haven’t set a place for me at the table. I feel like I’m not a part of their family, but not just because they all seemed happy and content with my absence, it’s my looks too.