Page 11 of The Significance of Moving On

“My mom didn’t want me either. She left me with my dad and that was it. I don’t even know if she’s still alive.”

“That’s tough. I’m glad you had your dad though—”

“And Tom,” I cut him off. “I always had Tom.”

“Well, it was me and Luke. We were passed around from foster home to foster home. Finally when I was eight, we landed in a really good home, even had a couple other foster brothers our age.”

“I think I saw a picture.”

“It didn’t last long. The system’s pretty screwed up. After a year we were taken from that home and placed somewhere else, much worse. About every two years we’d end up back at Mary and Steve’s house, our foster brothers still lived there. The winter I turned fourteen was the last time we lived with them. The state pulled us again for whatever reason. I think it was because Mary and Steve were putting in the paperwork to adopt the other two.”

“Was the new place really bad? Is that why he…” I asked.

Casey nods. “We used to get the crap kicked out of us. Luke always took the brunt of it to protect me. I even made the mistake of calling the social worker once. Let’s just say, I never made that mistake again.”

I realize I’ve stopped eating. Casey is the sweetest man I know; how could anyone want to hurt him? He’s stopped eating too, looking far off or back, as it were.

“They made our lives shit from that point on, even barring Luke from swim team, which he was really good at. It was his release and when they took that from him, they took a large part of his spirit. The beatings and verbal abuse, with no release, they broke him.”

“Do, um…” My voice quavers. “Have you ever seen your foster brothers?” I bite down hard on my bottom lip because the inside of my nose burns in that way I know I’m about to shed tears. “Aren’t you mad?”

“At my foster brothers?”

“No,” I say softly. “atLuke.”

“Are you mad, at Tom, I mean?”

“Yes.”

He stands, setting his plate on his recliner, and walks over to the sofa to sit next to me.

Casey drapes me in one of his comforting hugs then answers, “Hell yeah, I’m angry. I’m angry and I miss him so much sometimes, it hurts.”

“Does it ever get any easier?”

Chapter Six

Casey stands next to me at the airport, staring down at the tarmac with the lines of planes waiting to take off, while we wait for Kelsey’s to land. She’s left the glamorous Miami life for a summer in Saginaw, Michigan.For me. We had plans to take over the world, she and I, partners in crime. Neither of us had any idea of what we wanted to study in college, just that whatever it was, would lead to big lives. Now this trip feels like our last hurrah. She’ll still go on to own the world, while I’ll be lucky to afford community college.

I used to love all the light in airport terminals. The windows, walls and walls of windows just make it bright and welcoming. Airports bring hope and promise, like something new or well-loved lies just over the horizon. Except not for the people like me in this world, but then again Kelsiscoming today.

Does it get any easier? That was the hundred million dollar question I asked him last night. He answered honestly, that he still had his foster brothers and that helped some. Just as he hoped that his intervention has been comforting, at least a little, for me. I answered him truthfully; I wouldn’t be this okay without him. My sanity is thanks to Casey Davenport.

“Al,sweetheart.Al.” I turn from the view of the tarmac, having roomed with that voice calling out my name since my first day at Edgewood Prep. Kelsey is one of the most beautiful girls I’ve ever seen; long, auburn hair bounces off her shoulders as she runs at me full speed, her long legs bridge the gap between us in no time, crushing into me, knocking me into the reinforced glass behind me.

We stand there hugging and crying, because we’re such girls. But I need her to meet my new best friend too, and pull back. “Kelsey, this is Casey.”

She eyes him like a fat man eyes a sandwich. Because he’s yummy.

Wow, she mouths.

Suddenly, this very irrational, protectiveness sweeps over me and I step to block his body partially with my own, obscuring her view. I don’t want her looking at him like that. He’s… he’s… she just can’t look at him like that.

“Al, are you okay? You look like you’re about to puke.”

What is happening to me? She’s my friend. And I don’t own Casey. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Kelsey. We’d better go get your bags.” He moves around me to stand between us, draping an arm around both our shoulders as we walk over to baggage claim. Two massive, rolling suitcases later and it’s goodbye airport.

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