“You haven’t seen Neanderthal yet,” he warns as he carries me up the steps.
Logan
I’m more nervous than I should be. My brothers have been cleaning all day, and Sam has been cooking like a Top Chef. He’s wearing an apron spattered with tomato sauce, and Emily cleans up behind him as he moves from task to task. Sam loves to cook. He’s never happier than he is when he’s making something for someone to eat.
I should have done a better job planning this dinner. None of our dishes match, but we set the table with them anyway. Hell, our chairs don’t even match at our tiny, scratched-up table. It was our mom and dad’s, and I love it. It has years of abuse and love etched into its rough surface. There are tracks from Matchbox cars and scuffs from science-project disasters.
Stop worrying, Emily says. It’s just dinner.
It’s not just dinner. It’s so much more.
I’m not worried. Your mom will love the food. And your dad won’t be able to complain about anything Sam has made. Of that, I am one hundred percent certain. He might not like the company or the accommodations or the jelly jars that we use as glasses, but he will love the food.
Emily rushes to the door and opens it when the bell rings. Her parents come in, and her dad looks around our apartment, his nose in the air. Her mom exclaims over the smell of the food.
“Mom, Dad,” she says. “This is Paul, and Sam, and you’ve heard all about Matt.”
Matt steps forward and shakes hands. “I believe I owe you a debt of gratitude,” he says.
“You don’t owe us a thing,” her mom gushes. She pulls Matt to the side so she can fuss over him.
Sam takes his apron off and declares, “The chef is done. It’s time for the serving committee to take over.”
“You’re not staying?” I ask. What the f**k?
I have to go and find Pete, he says. He should have been home hours ago.
Is something wrong?
He shrugs. I don’t like it—he won’t look me in the face.
I’ll be back as soon as I find him. Save me some lasagna. He nods toward Mr. Madison. That one looks like he can put away some food. He grins and sneaks out the door before Paul can catch him.
“Mr. Madison,” I say, extending my hand. He takes it and shakes, his grip tight.
“Logan,” he says. “Thanks for having us.”
“Thanks for coming.”
“Shall we eat?” Paul asks.
###
Conversation is stilted, our plates are now empty, desert has been consumed, and I’m just about convinced that Mr. Madison doesn’t have a soul at all when Sam runs in the door. He’s filthy, his shirt is torn, and he smells like he’s been in a Dumpster.
I’m so sorry, he signs to Emily. He shoots an apologetic glance at her. But we have a problem. Pete has been arrested.
For what? Paul asks, but he’s already crossing the room to get his coat. I’m right behind him.
We were with Bone, Sam admits. He avoids Paul’s gaze. And the cops showed up.
Where is he now?
At the police station.
They put him in cuffs? Paul asks.
Sam nods.
Emily saw the entire conversation. I’m going with you, she says.
I nod. What about your parents?
Emily asks her parents if they can give us a ride to the station. I think we’re done with them, but their driver parks the car and they get out with us.
“I’ll know what my daughter is involved in,” Mr. Madison says when I tell them that they don’t have to go in with us. I nod. If she was my daughter, I would go too.
Paul rings the bell on the desk and waits for the officer to help us. I can’t follow what they say, but I know Paul will tell me when they’re done.
Paul hangs his head in his hands and turns back to us. “They’re not going to let him go home. He needs an attorney.”
Emily goes to her dad and tugs on his jacket. “Dad, can you call someone?”
He shakes his head. “It’s time to go home, Emily.” He takes her elbow, but she jerks out of his grip.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“If you go with me now, I’ll find representation for him.” He looks smug, and I want to punch him in the face like I did Trip. I rear back, and Paul grabs my arm.
Let me do it, he signs. I won’t regret it later.
Neither would I.
Emily steps back from her father and stands with Matt, Paul, and me. “You should go home,” she says. “I’m staying here.” She turns her back on her parents, and we start to plan how to find an attorney for Pete.
This is really bad. It’s not a hold-him-for-twenty-four-hours kind of thing, Paul explains. He’s really in trouble.
It’s okay. We can work this out. We always do.
Only it’s not so easy this time. Pete’s waiting for arraignment.
I sigh, and Emily’s parents leave. She stays with us, of course, and helps us plan. She’s family now. I draw her to my side. They’re keeping my brother, but I’m taking Emily home with me.
She helps me undress, and then she shoves me onto the bed and helps me forget all the shit that Pete’s gotten into. At least for tonight.
Emily
My mom is waiting for me outside the school after my last class. She wants to go and get pedicures, but that’s usually code for “let’s talk.” I take a deep breath and slide into the car.
She pats my knee. “I won’t torture you with a pedicure today.” She smiles at me as though she’s waiting for me to talk.