Page 73 of Her Pretty Words

Riveting?She always uses vocabulary I don’t understand. I try to hang on to her pretty words until I can get home to ask my mom for help looking them up in the dictionary. I repeat “riveting” several times in my head, so I don’t forget.

“Macy!” her mom calls from the house. “Come put away your plate!”

Macy looks at me with wide eyes and runs back to her house. By the time I make it there, her dish is already in the sink and she’s dancing in the living room, jumping on the couch cushions.

“Get down,” her mom says.

“She’s fine. Let her have fun,” Macy’s grandma says, which just makes her mom sigh.

Macy hops off the couch to grab my hand, then pulls me up on the furniture and starts jumping. I copy her and she chuckles. My stomach tickles whenever I hear the sound. I like being the cause of it. So, I dance with my arms flailing around, which makes her head tip back with heavy laughter.

“Hey there, kiddo!” her grandfather comes into the living room.

I wave at him mid-jump. He shakes his head at the site of us with an easy smile.

I overhear the grown-ups say they need to leave in two hours for the airport, meaning my family will be home before that.

Macy and I play inside so she doesn’t get all dirty before leaving. I count to twenty while she hides, catching sight of her mom glancing at her watch.

We play at least thirty rounds of hide and seek when I hear her mom say to someone, “We needed to leave twenty minutes ago. Where are they?”

Has it already been two hours? I glance out the window and only see my dad’s car in my driveway since they took my mom’s car to the fair. “Oh, they’re back!” I lie, knowing Macy’s family is waiting on me, and I don’t want to make them late for their flight.

“Great!” Macy’s mom says. “We don’t have time to go over but tell your family we said goodbye!”

I nod, but no one sees, because everyone is grabbing luggage and rushing out the door in organized chaos. Macy turns to me with tears in her eyes. “I’m going to miss you.” She wraps her arms around me. I try not to, but my throat tightens, and my vision goes blurry. I squeeze her tightly. “I really hope this year goes by fast,” I whisper into her wild hair that she still hasn’t brushed. She smells sweet. Like cake at a birthday party.

“Come on, Macy. Time to go,” her grandfather says, practically prying her away from me.

I follow them out the front door and then her grandfather locks it while everyone else piles into the car. Macy’s grandma rolls down the driver’s window and tells me to go home, so she can see that I made it there safely.

“Bye!” I call with tears falling down my face. Macy waves at me frantically from the back seat.

I drag myself away from the Brookes. My chest aches.

I go through the back door since we usually leave it unlocked, and then I wait in my empty house for my family to return. I open the pantry for a snack and eat it on the couch since no one is here to tell me not to.

I turn on the television with crumbs covering my fingers. I lick away the evidence and put on my favorite cartoon. Countless episodes play until my stomach growls again. During my second trip to the kitchen, I glance out the window only to see one car in the driveway.Did they forget about me?I find a package of cheese from the fridge and eat the entire thing.

I hear a car pull up and run back to the window, only to find its Macy’s grandparents returning from the airport.

I go to the room me and Delilah share and find a page in my dinosaur coloring book to work on. I color six whole pictures, working extremely hard to stay in the lines, by the time my room starts to darken. It’s nighttime. My heart beats fast, and I run tothe living room. Maybe I didn’t hear them come home. But like before, the house is empty, and terrifyingly quiet.

I’m starving. Again. I eat gummies. I hope they bring fast food home. Maybe that’s what’s taking so long. But fast food is supposed to befast.

I plop onto the couch with a loud sigh, ready to watch even more cartoons when red and blue light up my walls. There’s finally a second car out front when I look at the window, only this one belongs to a police officer.Am I in trouble?Someone knocks on my door, and I freeze. I’m not supposed to open it for anyone but my mom and dad.

I run and hide beneath a barstool when a second knock comes and a muffled voice calls from the other side of the door. “This is the police. Please open up.”

I squeeze my eyes shut and try to wish them away.

“Daniel, buddy, come open the door,” a familiar voice calls. Uncle Ron?

He lives in Fort Meyers, but I only see him on holidays. I know I’m only supposed to open the door for my parents, but I don’t think they would want me to leave my uncle outside, so I climb out from beneath the stool and unlock the door.

Uncle Ron doesn’t smile or give me a hug. His eyes are red, and he looks scared. A girl police officer with long brown hair follows him inside. I don’t know why I’m shaking, why my heart is beating so quickly. They ask me to sit on the couch with them.

“Daniel, something happened when your family was driving home from the festival,” Uncle Ron says. He looks like he might cry, which shocks me because I didn’t think grown-ups ever cried. “They were in a car accident.”

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