Page 22 of Unsteady

“So, who’s the girl?”

I choke on the gulp of water in my mouth, coughing repeatedly as my mother—the traitor—laughs and waits on me to regain my composure.

“What are you talking about?”

“Clearly there’s a girl.”

My fingers dance along the perspiration of my glass. “Did dad say something?”

Her eyes twinkle like I’ve confessed my love for whoever she’s imagining. “Should he have?”

“No.”

“Rhys, if your father knows about a girl before me, I will never forgive you.” She glares daggers at me for a minute, before relaxing with a knowing smile. “Besides, I thought you were still keeping him in the doghouse when it comes to your dating life after the prom incident.”

A full body cringe rolls through at even the mention of prom, shoving the memories back behind the brick wall in my brain.

“Don’t remind me.” I shake my head again. “What makes you think there is someone, anyway?”

I wait for her light teasing, but her voice drops into the soft whisper she’s used on every failure and scrape or bruise as a child.

“Because you are my son; a piece of my heart, love, and you have beendrowning. Maybe you still are.”

I feel sick. Of course my mother would know, saving me from nightmares as often as she has.

“Probably.” I sigh, my knee kicking up, bouncing anxiously.

“But lately, you’ve seemed different.”

She’s waiting for me to fill in the blanks, but I’m not sure what to say. That there is a girl, at least for me, even if she’ll hold me at arm’s length forever. That’s fine, I’ll stay an arm’s distance away as long as it still means she’s near me, chasing out the shadows crowding my empty body.

I know it isn’t healthy. I just don’t care.

“Sadie is just a friend.”

“Sadie? Pretty name.”

Pretty girl. I bite down on my tongue, smoothing a hand over my knee to try and slow the shaking.

“We’ve been splitting our ice time in the mornings. She’s a figure skater, for Waterfell actually.”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t think she really likes me,” I snort, unable to stop talking about her now that I’ve started. “But she’s funny. And she has good music.”

“Sounds like a cool girl.”

“I like skating with her.” The words pour like vomit.

“The angry one?” my dad asks, slipping beside me to plate the eggplant parm in the center of the table. “Her brothers are adorable.”

“She has brothers?” Mom asks, giving Dad a quick kiss on the cheek before settling as we pass around a blend of roasted veggies, Caesar salad and pasta.

“Oliver and Liam,” I offer. “Oliver is pretty good.”

“More than good. That kid’s a star. And little Liam is the cutest kid I’ve ever seen,rybochka, all his freckles and missing teeth.”

Finishing her bite, Mom waits before adding, “They’re in the program, then? That’s good.”

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