Page 4 of The Star

He huffs a breath, turning to look in the opposite direction. My chest heaves, my fists balled at my sides as tears fill my eyes from anger.

Anger. Betrayal. Resentment.

I’m overflowing with emotions and none of them are good.

Hate. I hate him. I hate him for doing this to me, to us, to my fucking mom.

The room has fallen silent, the only thing to be heard the usual noises from outside and the heaving of my breath. I can feel the tension building as I wait for him to speak again.

“This is going to be good for us, sweetie.” His voice is steady, but he doesn’t turn to look at me while he talks, almost as if he’s ashamed of the words. I hope he can feel the betrayal deep in his gut, the same feeling that’s in mine. “Someone is coming to look at the house tomorrow, so please clean up your room.”

He takes a few steps, heading for his bedroom, but turns his head to look at me one more time over his shoulder. “I love you.”

I huff a laugh, brushing the tears from my burning cheeks and looking away from him.

* * *

Apparently, homes in my neighborhood are quicker to sell than I thought they would be. After a month, the house sells. It might have something to do with how low my father priced it. I saw a flyer during the open house the realtor held over the weekend, and I was surprised to see that we’re basically giving away my childhood home.

Guess my dad wants to get out of here sooner rather than later.

I haven’t spoken to him, and I haven’t helpedstagethe house to be homier than it actually is. The realtor tidied up my room while I was at school one day, stuffing the old school Playboys that once lived on my walls underneath my mattress.

No one at school knows I’m leaving yet. I’m waiting for the right time to tell my friends. But when I get home Monday after school, there’re flat cardboard boxes wrapped in thick clear plastic sitting in front of my bedroom door, a note pinned to them that says,PACK.

Unfortunately, Giuliana is two steps behind me, coming face-to-face with my brand-new nightmare.

“Pack for what?” she asks from over my shoulder, stopping in the hallway to stare at the boxes with me.

I groan loud and long, kicking the boxes with all my strength so they go flying down the hallway and out of my doorway. Pushing my door open, I throw my backpack onto the floor and fall face-first onto my mattress.

“Lo?”

I sigh, rolling over onto my back to stare at the popcorn ceiling of my bedroom. “I’m moving.”

She falls down beside me, her head landing right next to mine on the plush surface of my bed. “To where?”

Giuliana and I have been friends since middle school – she’s the best friend I’ve ever had. She’s the sweet that balances out my salty, the friendly one that steps in when I’m about to throw fists.

“Across the tracks,” I mutter, refusing to look at her.

She pops up like a fucking jack-in-the-box and screeches at the top of her lungs. “Across the tracks?!”

“Luxington.” I end my answer with a sigh.

She bends so her face is hovering just above mine. “What the fuck? Why are you so calm?!”

I look at her bugged-out eyes and grief-stricken face, then bust out laughing. I don’t know why, because the situation is definitely not funny. I could possibly be having a manic episode.

“What is so funny?” Giuliana asks, her eyebrows moving so far up her forehead that it almost looks fake.

I take a breath, controlling my laughter. “Nothing isfunny, G. My dad is marrying some bitch, taking me across the tracks to live a fancy pants-y new life.”

She falls back down next to me, slipping her fingers through mine and squeezing me tight. The gesture tells me exactly what I know she wants to say right now. She’s sorry, she’s pissed, she’s hurting for me.

We lie in silence for a couple of minutes, letting the calming sounds of our breathing fill the space until I feel stable enough to talk again.

As we both turn to face each other on the bed, I spill my guts. I tell her about the conversation with my dad, how he’s sold the house already. I tell her exactly what I’m feeling – that it’s like my father is betraying my mom, like he’s pissing all over the marriage they had. By the time I’m done talking, my throat is dry and my cheeks are wet.

---