Starlee's Home (The Wayward Sons 3)

Charlie

The holiday peace lasts exactly two days. We managed Christmas day with civility; George cooking a pretty good dinner, topped with a pie Dexter gave us the night before. Dad ate two pieces and didn’t comment on the game George gave me—or when we played it until 3 a.m. Things even continued smoothly the following day, so when George got called up to help at the resort on the twenty-seventh, I felt good telling him about the tournament that afternoon. Confident, even.

My instincts were disastrously wrong.

“No,” he says, when I bring it up over breakfast.

“Why not? I qualified and there’s scholarship money in it and even if I don’t get first place, I’ll secure a spot for the next competition that has an even bigger cash prize.”

“Charlie, you know how I feel about these games. It’s a waste of time. I was nice about it yesterday because it was a day off for all of us, but you’ve got to work this afternoon. There’s no time for this.”

“I got Sandra to cover for me.” I’d worked it all out. The girl that works the morning shift was happy for some extra hours. “It’s just the afternoon. It’s not a big deal.”

He rests his fork on his plate, the eggs and bacon swirling with grease. A chill washes over me. I’ve seen that look before—back when we were kids, and normally directed at my brother. “It’s a waste of time. You’re smart, skilled, and no college wants a kid who spends half his day addicted to a fucking game in their scholarship program.”

“God, you’re so obtuse,” I say, balling my fists with anger. “You have no clue how colleges work now, but why would you? You never went.”

His jaw works and I’m pushing him. Why am I pushing him? “Because your mother got knocked up, that’s why, and I had to get a job to take care of you and your brother. Sorry responsibility got in my way. But that’s what you don’t understand, right, Charlie? Responsibility. Life’s just a big game. Clamp on those headphones and block out reality.”

Bringing this up isn’t new. It’s his favorite story about how he sacrificed so much for me and George. It’s bullshit, of course. He blames our mother for getting pregnant, but he wasn’t smart enough to wear a condom. Dumbass. But the other part of his comment hits the nail on the head. That is why I started gaming. To block out him and George’s fights. The nonstop insults and yelling. “I’m done with this,” I say, grabbing my phone and coat. “When it’s time for me to go to school, I’ll have the money I need. I won’t have to rely on you for anything. Pretty much like now.”

“Charlie, if you walk out that door, don’t even think of coming back.”

“What? You want to kick me out? Good, maybe they’ll send me back to Sierra and I can get on with my life.”

“You’re not going to that woman’s house. When I call the police, they’ll lock you up for running away—at best, you’ll get stuck in a group home. At worst? Juvie.” It’s a random threat. As if this is better than any of that. He has no idea how insufferable he can be and there’s no way in hell he calls the police. They’ll just as likely charge him for being an unfit parent. He’s the one that started this whole thing up again.

I storm out the door and pull my phone out of my pocket. I can’t call George, he’s an hour away at the recycling facility. Dexter? Jake? God no, the last thing I need is for Sierra to get involved. She may call Mrs. Delange. I scroll through the numbers and land on Starlee’s. It was new and I’d only sent her a few texts, worried it would get us all in trouble. If anyone would support me in this, it would be her.

I press the button and call.

29

Starlee

I’m in the process of scrubbing my toilet when the phone rings. Leelee decided to take Tom to visit her brother up in Lake Tahoe. She’d asked me to join, but being in close quarters with the octogenarian love birds is a little much. I figured they both could use a little break, anyway. I stayed back and got the bug to do a little post-Christmas cleaning.

“Hello,” I say, pressing the speaker.

“Hey Starlee, it’s Charlie.”

There’s something in his voice that makes me pause. “Hi. What’s going on?”

“Things…” He searches for words.

“Charlie? Are you okay?”

“Can you come pick me up?”

“At your house? What’s wrong?”

He lets out a rattling sigh. “My dad and I got in a fight about the tournament today. He’s being completely unreasonable. I need a ride to Fresno.”

“Fresno?” That’s a long way and although Leelee’s car is here, I’m not sure she’d approve of me taking it that far away. “Where’s George?”

“He’s working off-site all day. I can’t bother him with this. Starlee, I really need your help.”

I knew Charlie had been looking forward to this tournament for months and that he needs the scholarship money. That’s not what gets me to agree. It’s the fact he’s asked for help. Charlie is quiet and tough. He doesn’t like showing weakness.