Page 20 of Slots & Sticks
“Camden!”
He chuckles. “Sorry. So, do you want me to set this aside for you?”
“Well, we can’t very well put it in a little free library.” I lower my hands. “And I’m afraid to offer it to anyone we know. Molly might keep it for herself.”
“We could give it to Viktor,” Camden suggests. “Ooh, no, never mind, I bet Knova would be into that. We could never eat anything either of them cooks ever again, just in case.”
I laugh again. “I bet Mom would—” The word Mom slips out before I can stop it, and my laugh folds in on itself. For one tortured second, the room feels hollow, like the world’s holding its breath.
Mom would want this as a book for her coffee table. She’d enjoy the startled expressions on her guests’ faces when they spotted the cover. But I’ll never get to share this book with her. I’ll never make another memory with her, good or bad, ever again.
“Dot?” Camden lowers the book.
“Sorry, I spaced out for a second. You can, uh, put that aside, and we can figure out who to torment with it later.” I play with the ends of my hair. “What else is in there?”
We get through three boxes before my stomach growls. Camden smiles and reaches for his phone. “We should get some food. How about…” His brow furrows.
I don’t know if I want to eat something familiar. I know my parents’ orders for most of the restaurants in the immediate area, so if we order from one of those places, I’ll know what they would want if they were here.
“There’s that new Brazilian place,” Camden suggests.
I let out a soft breath. “That sounds great. Order whatever, and we can split it.” I have no appetite, but I should eat, and at least whatever I eat tonight won’t be too emotionally charged.
“Are you in the mood for anything specific?”
“Not really. As long as there’s no—”
“No cilantro.” Camden gives me a thumbs-up. “You got it.”
Camden places an order. My brain feels like I put it through a pressure washer, so I migrate to the couch and turn on the TV.
“They don’t deliver here,” Camden says. “I’ve got to go pick it up. You gonna be okay here?”
“Of course,” I say. “It’s just a house.”
But it’s notjusta house. It’s the house where I grew up, the house where generations of old dogs have found comfort, the place where I never quite fit, where Mom and I fought, where Dad and I took turns kicking each other’s asses inWingspanandSettlers of Catan.In Camden’s absence, it’s too big, too quiet, too lonely for words.
I focus on picking something on the TV. I feel like this has become my whole life lately: trying to focus on one thing at a time so that I won’t think about the stuff I can’t control.
Camden returns with a bag full of food, stepping into the house without knocking, perfectly at ease in a place where I feelso alien. He sets the bag on the coffee table. After he sits, he catches my eye and gives me a crooked grin. “Oh, damn, I forgot to tell them no jizz.”
I blink at him. “Excuse me?”
Again, his face heats up. “Oh, uh… the book. I was referencing the…”
I shake my head. “The book. Duh. Sorry, I’m a bit out of it.”
“It’s okay.” He hands me a fork. “What are we watching?”
I eat my dinner with all the enthusiasm of a robot. I have no idea what’s on the TV. Sometimes, I feel like all of my emotions overload my brain, and the whole system shuts down. I’ve lost hours over the last few days in this weird brain fog blackout scenario.
Camden puts our leftovers in the fridge. It’s early, but at some point, he’s going to leave, and I’ll be alone again. I don’t know if I can sleep. My dreams have been fretful and sweaty, assuming I’ve been lucky enough to sleep at all.
Instead of making his excuses, Camden heads down the hall and comes back with a pile of blankets. He lays one across both of our laps.
“We gonna keep watching this?” He nods to the TV.
I have no idea what’s happened so far—some old lady is solving murders in a seaside Scottish town, but that’s all I’ve processed. “You want to?”
