Page 37 of That's Not My Name

Shit, I hadn’t even thought of that. Roane took my transportation for who the fuck knows how long. I have no way to getanywherefor the foreseeable future. “No, it’s okay. I’ll ask Max.”

“You sure? I don’t mind.”

He probably wants to see me walk into school himself, but he shouldn’t have to be late to work because the cops took my car. “No, really. It’s fine. Max won’t mind, and we’re already going to the same place.”

Tired lines crease the skin around his eyes. “I’m worried about you, Drew. I think this is the first warm meal I’ve seen you eat in a while. I hear you pacing late at night. Max is the only friend I’ve seen you with for weeks. You said nothing when the swim team asked you to step down. You always miss family dinner. You’re distant…”

Distant is a good way to put it. I would have said completely tired of everyone’s shit, but I’m less polite than he is. “I’m fine. You know…processing.”

He stares me down.

“Really,” I say, twisting my face into what I hope resembles sincerity. “I’m okay. I’m sad, and I want her to come home, and it sucks that everyone turned their backs on meandher, but I can’t control what anyone else does. I’m trying to get through it, but everything will be okay.”

The lies churn the beef and potatoes in my stomach, and I wish I’d eaten less.

The truth is, I can barely sleep because every time I close my eyes, I dream of the river turning into a black hole and swallowing her. I can’t sit back and wait for the cops to figure out what happened because I don’t trust them.

Dad folds his hands on the counter. “I know this is hard for you. It’s been hard for us too. Lola’s so important to this family, I mean, she practically lived here over the summer, and it’s been an absolute nightmare waiting for news about her, so I get it…”

I can’t begin to explain how much I love him for consistently talking about her in the present tense. It makes me feel less alone in this. Like I’m not the only one hoping.

“Me and your father also understand that as devastating as this has been for us, it’s even worse for you,” he continues. “But that doesn’t mean you get to give up on your life either. You can advocate for Lola and still take care of yourself at the same time.You’restill here.”

I nod through the sudden pain at the back of my throat. I know how hard this has been for them, but he got one part wrong.

I don’t know that Iamstill here. Not really.

I feel like part of me left when she did.

“I know. I promise I’m okay.” I reach out and put my hand over his on the counter. “I’m going to go change into some dry clothes and see if I can sleep. It’s been a stupid day.”

He looks over at the clock on the stove. “It’s only six.”

“I know. By the time I change and wind down, it’ll be another hour. And you’re right, I haven’t been sleeping all that well.” Also I really need some distance between me and that worry on his face.

I stand and he waves his hands at me.

“Oh, wait. I almost forgot.” He walks over to the counter, grabs a bag with an office supply store logo on the side, and tosses it to me. Two ink cartridge boxes clatter together inside. “For your fliers. Max said he found you at the library copier, so I figured your printer was out of ink. I picked some up for you on my way home today.”

I stare down into the bag and feel my eyes catch fire. It’s such asimple errand, but it feels like a kind hand in the darkness. The fact that he’d buy me what I need to continue this mission of mine, when neither one of us thinks it’s doing any good, is the kind of unwavering support that I don’t deserve.

“Thank you,” I mumble, and hug him.

“You’re welcome.” He squeezes me extra tight. “We miss her,” he says. “We miss Lola too. You’re not alone in this.”

I hug him a little tighter. A lump has made a home in my throat.

After a long minute, he lets me go. “Goodnight, Drew.”

“Night, Dad.” I turn and hurry up to my room.

We miss Lola too…

My parents don’t deserve a son as careless as me.

If they knew what I did, they’d never forgive me.

I yank the blanket from my shoulders and kick my bedroom door shut behind me with a sigh. I drop the bag of ink on the floor and toss the blanket toward the bed as I switch on the light.

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