Page 38 of Missing Linc
“It’s in Massachusetts,” she says.
“What?”
My jaw almost feels dislocated with how low it sinks, and my eyes could have literally rolled out of my sockets for all I know.
“So you’re not just moving out. You’re moving to a different state? What the hell, Autumn? Why can’t you stay here? There’s plenty of bars around. You don’t have to go all the way to Mass for a fucking waitress job.”
“Oh, Cam, please don’t get like that. You don’t know what it’s like being… lost like me. You’ve always had dancing. Even when you didn’t think it was a viable career, it was your escape. I’ve never had anything like that. I never… found my passion. I just… I don’t know. Maybe going to Mayberry Holm will help me find it. Or…”
She sighs and a tear escapes the corner of her right eye.
Fuck. I’m being insensitive. All I’m thinking about is myself. And now my sister is crying.
“Hey.” I lift her head by the chin and make her look me in the eyes while I wipe her tears with my free hand. “I’m sorry, okay? It’s-it’s just hard to imagine my life without you here. I’m so used to having you around. Doing those stupid exercises in the mornings with crazy, chirpy ladies that believe in fairies. I-I don’t know what I’ll do without you.”
“Cam, I’m sorry—”
“I understand. I mean, I’m still mad, but I understand. I just need… time to process this. But I don’t want to be selfish. And that’s what I’m being right now.”
She wraps her arms around me, and I squeeze her in mine as if letting go means I’ll lose her forever.
“You can stay here,” she says as we finally let go and she starts picking up the broken pieces of the mug.
“Pfft, yeah, because I can afford that.”
“Hey. I paid rent here for two years before you decided to get your sorry ass a job. If I can do it, so can you,” she snaps back.
I put my hands up in surrender and get up to help her. Yet another thing I’ll have to figure out on my own.
Shit.
Living on my own.
How the hell am I going to do that?
Rent isn’t crazy expensive, but I can only just about pay it with my pizza job. Which means I might need to get a roommate which… isn’t ideal to say the least.
“When are you going?” I ask her.
She opens the trash and throws the pieces in it.
“I’m leaving the day after your birthday,” she says.
“Fuck!” I let out before I can stop. “That soon?”
“Sorry. He needs me there sooner, but I told him I need to stay for my brother’s twenty-first birthday,” she says, as if that makes up for it.
“Okay. Okay. I’m sorry. That was a blunt reaction. You need to stop apologizing. Thank you for doing that for me.”
It takes all the effort and mental capacity I have to be nice and not say mean things because yeah, I hate that she’s leaving, and that she’s leaving so soon, and that I have to be okay with it. I need time to think and process it all.
My phone rings and I pick it up straight away, walking away from the kitchen. Any excuse to just give myself some space.
“Cam, sweetie. How are you?” It’s Grace. My manager. She’s the best. “I’m sorry to call you on your day off, but do you think you can work tonight? Paolo called in sick, and we’re going to be short.”
It’s Friday. Friday with one less delivery guy is a nightmare. And I need the mindless driving time to think all this through. I need space.
“Sure. I’ll come in. What time was he supposed to start?”
