Nate hit my shoulder and laughed. “Last one downstairs doesn’t get any pizza.”
Logan took off first. Nate wasn’t far behind. I waited until they were down there and turned around.
Nate’s mom was watching me warily, biting the corner of her lip. I knew she was a busy woman; both of Nate’s parents directed movies. In that moment, I was jealous of him. His mom was home, but she wasn’t crying. She wasn’t drinking. She didn’t look like a made-up Barbie doll. She was wearing jeans, an apron, and a normal t-shirt. She wasn’t like my mom, who always dressed like she was going out to a socialite party. My mom even wore big huge necklaces and her hair always looked perfect. Nate’s mom was so far from mine in every way. She cooked for him. Our chef prepared every meal. If we ran out, food was ordered in. His parents were as wealthy as mine, but they were more down-to-earth.
Her eyes narrowed now. “What’s up, Mason?”
I heard the wariness in her tone and knew she didn’t like me. That was part of the reason I wanted to speak to her. “I know we stay here a lot. Thank you.”
She nodded. “Yeah, well, your dad’s good friends with us, and I know you mean the world to Nate.”
“I know, but I know you don’t like me.”
Her eyes widened and her hand went to her chest in an absentminded gesture. “No, Mason. I don’t want you to thi—”
I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter. I know you don’t and you shouldn’t.” What the hell was I doing? I wasn’t a great kid. I knew that. I smarted off to my dad all the time. I cursed around Logan every other minute. I was disappointed in my own mother, but this was Nate’s mom. She used to like me, but I wasn’t stupid. I knew when she stopped; it was when my dad’s cheating started to be more obvious. All that crap at my house pissed me off. Logan handled it differently than me. He didn’t seem as angry as me. I said to her, “You’re a good mom to Nate. I know you’re worried I’ll get him in trouble or something.”
“Mason, really—”
“I won’t.” Well… “I’ll try not to. I just want to say thanks for always letting us stay here and for letting Logan come with me.”
Genuine warmth sparked in her eyes and her hand fell from her chest. As a fond smile lit up her face, a dimple appeared on one cheek. “He’s a sweet boy. You take good care of him. I know you do.”
I nodded. I wasn’t there to talk about Logan so I said, “Anyway, I wanted you to know that I will never purposely get Nate in trouble.” I turned away, then turned back. “Thank you.” Then I took off. When I got downstairs, Nate and Logan were both on the couch. Neither said anything about me being last and when the pizza was done, nothing was said about not eating it. As we ate and watched a movie, Nate’s mom came down to check on us, and again when we were getting ready for bed. And she cooked breakfast for us in the morning. Every time I felt her gaze on me, I couldn’t tell what she was thinking. I assumed she thought the worst of me, but I didn’t know what to do. I owed Nate’s family. When our house was full of fights or painful silence, we could always go there. One of his parents was always there. That felt good, for some reason.
When we walked home later that Sunday night, Logan glanced up at me. “Nate’s mom helped me with my homework.”
I frowned. “I thought you didn’t need help with it.”
“I didn’t. It was nice, though, so I didn’t tell her that.”
Anger blasted me. My kid brother enjoyed doing his homework with an adult. I wasn’t wise or old, but f**k, I knew there was something wrong with that picture. When we got to the house and went inside. I ignored the cold feeling in our own home, but I couldn’t stop myself from tensing up. There’d be fighting later. I saw a note on the table and read that my dad had been in the cities all weekend; I knew the fight would be more explosive than normal.
When we went upstairs, Logan asked me, “Are you going to tell Mom we’re home?”
“Yeah.” I pointed to his room. “Get ready for bed. It’s late.”
“Okay.” He took off, but turned around. “Thanks for taking me with you this weekend.”
I nodded. “Go to bed, punk.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, but shot me a grin before darting into his room down the hallway.
I went into my own room. I had no intention of telling her we were home. Nate’s mom usually called and left messages, giving them updates; I knew she would’ve this time. I didn’t want to see my mom. I didn’t want to see if she was wasted or passed out. I went to bed instead.
*
“You can’t bring them here anymore.”
I sat up and ran a hand over my face, groaning. Again. This was f**king happening again. I glanced at my phone and saw it was three in the morning.