Page 3 of The Love of My Next Life
“You shut up, Macon.”
They stare at each other for a few tense breaths, and then the girl looks at me.
“Ignore him. He’s just a jerk,” she says to me. I glance back at Macon, but he’s not looking at us anymore. He’s staring at the paper in front of him. The girl and I turn back around at the same time. “I’m Claire,” she whispers and scoots closer. I didn’t notice her before, but I guess she’s my tablemate.
“I’m Lennon,” I tell her, even though I know she already knows. “Nice to meet you.”
“Sorry about Macon.” She speaks to me while her eyes are on her work as she draws little flowers on the sides of her paper. “He’s just angry because he’s supposed to be a grade up, but he’s dumb.”
My mouth drops open at the pointed tone of her voice. She speaks the cruel words as if they are well-known facts. I try to ignore the prickling heat at my back. I know Macon is watching us, or listening, so I lower my voice. He’s a jerk, but I don’t want to be mean. I also want to know more, even though I don’twant towant to.
“What happened?” I whisper, hunching forward.
“My mom says he’slashing out,but I just think he was born rotten.”
My eyes flare, and I stifle a gasp. “How do you know?”
Claire glances sideways at me, her lip curled up, and shrugs. “’Cause he’s my brother.”
ONE
Age 17
“Don’t forget your passport,”I call over my shoulder as I hear my dad’s feet hit the landing. He pauses briefly and jogs back upstairs, without saying a word. I smile and shake my head. I’m not actually sure if he’ll need it, but he never corrects me.
He rounds the corner into the kitchen, just as I put the lid on the silver US NAVY travel mug I got him for Father’s Day when I was fifteen.
“Thanks, Pumpkin.” He wraps his hand around the mug and presses a quick kiss to my head. “Big day. How do you feel?”
I shrug. “The same.”
“Yeah? You don’t feel older? Wiser?”
I roll my eyes and laugh. “I’m starting my senior year of high school, Dad, not a PhD program.” He chuckles, and I watch as he drops down into a chair and puts on his shoes.
“Do I get to know this time?” I lean against the counter and take a bite of my protein bar. He grins and shakes his head. I never get to know, but I always ask anyway. “Okay, then. I’m going with Finland.”
He hums and rubs his hand over his chin. “Didn’t we already do Finland?”
“Yep, but it’s supposedly the happiest country in the world with the cleanest air.” I grin and take a sip of my orange juice. “Can never have too much of that.”
“Touché.” He raises his mug in the air and winks before his face grows serious. “You sure you’ll be okay?”
“I’ll be perfectly fine, Dad,” I say honestly. “I always am. And it’s only for two weeks this time. That’s a cakewalk.”
He studies me. It doesn’t matter how many times he leaves me alone. It never gets easier for him.
“Are you sure you don’t want to stay at the Davis’s? I know Andrea wouldn’t mind, and you’d at least have Claire to keep you company.”
“Ah, but there’s just one small problem with that scenario...” I let the statement trail off, and he sighs.
“Macon,” we say at the same time.
“That boy isn’t that bad,” my dad says. He’s always standing up for Macon. “He’s just troubled. Just needs a little discipline is all. A father-figure.”
“You volunteering for the job?”
He laughs off the question. “I’m just saying cut him some slack. He’s had it rough.”
