by Angel Lawson
The Wayward Sons
Starlee’s Home
Angel Lawson
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Untitled
Untitled
1
Starlee
That night, overlooking the tiny town of Lee Vines, we agree on how to handle the situation. How to handle one another.
And my heart feels stitched together with thread.
Friday passes. Then Saturday. The Christmas tree in the center of town twinkles day and night—the bright sun casting glaring reflections—the nighttime lights providing a warm glow. There’s a noticeable loss in everything I do, an ache. I know I’m not the only one that feels it.
“Have you heard anything from George or Charlie?” Leelee asks, the Sunday after Thanksgiving. The twins have been gone for five days and although my grandmother knows they’ve returned to live with their father, I get the sense she doesn’t know what Sierra said to me, how she blamed their removal on me and then forbid me to see Dexter and Jake. I don’t want to be the one to tell her. What if she agrees? I can’t handle another person I care for being disappointed in me.
“No, I’m hoping they’ll be at school tomorrow,” I say, handing her a cup of coffee. I’ve gotten up early and made coffee and breakfast, creating a reason not to go to the Wayward Sun. I know Sierra doesn’t want me there. The boys? It’s better for all of us if I keep my distance around here.
“Well, I hope everything is okay with them. I miss having them around. I know Sierra and the other boys must, too.”
“I hope they’re okay, too.” My worry about them living with their father again hasn’t decreased since they’d been gone. George historically has had a combative relationship with his dad. Charlie less so, his issues mostly stemmed from defending his twin, but they were doing so well at Sierra’s. It seems like a risk to pull them away now.
“What are your plans for today?” she asks.
“I need to read a book for Lit.”
“Helping Jake?”
“Uh, no, we’re not in the same class.”
“Oh right, well, I’m going down to the holiday market with Tom in about an hour. You’re welcome to join us if you’d like. Katie’s working the desk down in the office.”
“Thank you, but I think I need to get on my homework. You two have fun.”
While my relationships have either gone underground or fallen apart, my grandmother is smitten by Tom, the owner of the Epic Café. I don’t begrudge her happiness, it’s pretty adorable.
We finish up breakfast and I stay in my pajamas while Leelee prepares for the drive to June Lake. I hover a little, watching as she searches for her keys and double checks that she’s got her wallet. Every second that passes, I become increasingly desperate for her to leave. Every second I pretend like everything is okay, the more I start to fall apart. When she finally grabs her coat and gloves and walks out the door, I lean against the wall, breathe a sigh of relief, and let the dam break.
Now I can cry in peace.
I’m bundled up in a multicolor afghan, on the couch, and a hundred pages into Hemingway when the phone rings. Leelee made good on her promise and got us matching cell phones, my first, and I jump like a startled cat when it vibrates on the coffee table.
The lodge office number appears on the screen.
“Hello?”
“Hey, it’s Katie. Cottage 6 needs new lightbulbs in the bathroom. Can you grab me a box from storage?”
I unwrap the blanket from around my legs. “Yeah, sure.”
Grabbing my coat from the closet by the door, I tug it on and slip on my waterproof boots. After getting caught in the snowstorm, I no longer pretend the weather here isn’t harsh. Not that I’m getting stranded walking from the house to the storage building, but you never know.
It hasn’t snowed again since the big one a week or so before, but unlike at home, it’s cold enough to keep the icy stuff on the ground, especially in shady corners. The peaks of the Sierras are capped in white and even with everything going on, living in such a beautiful place feels like a dream.
I take the small path from the house away from the office and duck past the cluster of trees that obscure the building. I’ve turned the corner when I’m yanked off the path. I yelp, panic building in my chest, and struggle against the arms holding me.
“Shhhh, Starlee, it’s just me.”
Dexter’s voice calms me but not my heart. It pounds like a frantic drum. “Dex, holy crap, never. Ever. Do that again.”
I twist until I’m facing him, but stop fighting. He’s wearing a dark knit cap over his thick black hair and his piercing gray eyes are bright against the white of the snow. He’s grown out the scruff on his chin again and I haven’t seen him since Thursday night. It’s been a long three days.
“I’m sorry I scared you.”
“Well now that I know I’m not being murdered, I’m happy to see you.” I glance around the corner to assure we’re alone. “Sierra must not have seen you go out.”
“Jake is occupying her with some history homework, now that he’s not allowed to see his favorite tutor.” He runs his cold hands under the hair on my neck. I shiver. “I missed you.”
“I missed you, too. These last few days have really sucked.”
He wets his bottom lip and tilts his head before kissing me gently. I love the way Dexter kisses—the type depending on his mood. Right now, there’s no anger, just a little wistfulness, and he coaxes my lips with his own, drawing me into him. If there were a million reasons why--the snow, his sister, the baggage following us--I’d kiss him all day. But there is all that stuff and it hangs over every moment.
“So is this how it’s going to be from now on?” I ask, pulling away to catch my breath. He may be feeling like slow sweet kisses, but my mouth and body miss him more than I’d like to admit. “Secret meet-ups?”
“It’s not like we were super public before.”
“I know, but I can’t even come in the coffee shop and there’s no way I can ride to school tomorrow. I’ll have to take the bus.”
He leans his head back against the building. “I’m sorry. We’ll get this resolved.”
“How long do you think it will take.”
“My final probation hearing is in early January.”
I sigh. “So, after Christmas.”
“Yeah, but if I’m released, then me, you, and Jake should be fine.”
“I don’t know. Sierra wants me to stay clear from everyone in case the twins need to come back.”
“My sister can’t control everything we do,
Starlee. I know she’s upset and feels like she failed them, but we all made decisions along the way. There’s no situation where we don’t choose you.”
He may be able to say that but I’m not sure the twins can, not now. “Do you think they’re okay?”
“I think they’ll get through this.” His voice isn’t entirely confident and it doesn’t help the unease in my stomach. “At least we can check in with them tomorrow.”
I nod and don’t resist when he soothes my nerves with another kiss and another and a few minutes later we’re both red-cheeked and breathing heavy. “I need to go. Sierra may start looking for me.” He cups my cheeks and kisses me one last time. It’s not enough. “Don’t forget your light bulbs.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Conspiring with Katie?”
“Everyone needs allies, Starlee, that’s how you get through life.”
We part, our fingertips lingering, and it hurts to see him go. He’s just next door but seems miles away. The distance between us is painful and raw. I open the shed door thinking about what he just said. Living such an isolated life, I never had support like that before—friends. Allies. Things are different here. I have a job. Go to school. I have Leelee, Katie, and Claire, which means that even though I don’t have my wayward sons right now, I’m not completely alone.
And that makes life seem a little more doable.
2
Charlie
I lie awake, staring at the ceiling for what seems like hours. The apartment is different from the one we lived in before. This one is nicer, but small. The complex is adjacent to the big ski resort where Dad works maintenance, and housing is included. The bad thing is that when he moved here he was living alone, so this place isn’t quite big enough for the three of us. George and I have to share a room and my brother’s peel-the-paint-off-the-ceiling snoring isn’t helping the situation. Nothing is helping this stupid, shitty situation.
I roll over and shift my eyes from the plain white walls to our not-unpacked bags we’ve been living out of. Dad got us a dresser to share and there’s a closet, but unpacking feels like giving in and neither of us are ready to do that. I keep my focus off George, who’s sleeping shirtless with his back facing me. The scars given to him by my father the last time we lived together…I don’t like the reminder of how badly things can go.
We’ve been here for five days—six, really—each more trying than the day before. Mrs. Delange says it’s normal for our transition to take time. That it will take a while for the three of us to get used to living together again, but that’s not it. Not exactly. George and I operate like a unit. Sure, he bugs the hell out of me and sometimes I want to punch him when he’s being so hyper, but I get it. He’s my twin. But Dad? I’m not sure that relationship can ever be repaired.
We’re caught in a weird cycle. When we were kids, George pissed him off so badly. His ADHD was off the chain. He spent half his time in the emergency room stitching up wounds, and the other hanging off bridges tagging anything bolted down. Dad hated his artwork the same way he hates my video games. Back then I didn’t get it, but now I do. We’ve changed, grown, but Dad? The man’s a freaking narcissist and he wants all the attention in the house focused on him. He may be sober and has a handle on his anger, but his attitude is the same and just being around him feels smothering.
The alarm on my phone buzzes, telling me it’s time to get up. I grab my pillow and toss it at George, slamming him in the face.
“Wha?” he mumbles, running his hands over his face. “What time is it?”
“Time to get up. School’s back today.”
He perks up instantly, no question why: Starlee.
We go through our morning routine, alternating between showers and getting dressed. We’re not used to sharing the same room, both of us twice the size since the last time we had to.
“Ready?” I ask him while tying my shoe.
He tugs on his flannel over a Wayward Sun T-shirt. “Yeah. I guess.”
I’m not asking him if he’s ready to go to school. Nah, I’m talking about just leaving the room and facing our dad for the day. I open the door and we both walk out, crossing the small living room furnished with just a couch and an arm chair. My gaming stuff is shoved under the TV and my fingers twitch when I see it.
I grab the cereal. George, the milk. We’ve both just sat down at the table when Dad walks out of his own room, dressed in his work uniform.
“School starts back today?” he asks, going to the coffeemaker.
“Yep,” I answer.
“You go straight there and back.”
“No problem,” George says.
“Some days we have after school stuff,” I say, holding a spoonful of Sugar Ohs.
“Football’s over,” he replies, glancing at George.
My brother shrugs. “We have clubs and stuff.”
“You may want to cut those out for right now. You need to ride the bus home and get busy on your homework.” He shifts his eyes to me. “Charlie, there’s a job opening at the resort office. Part-time tech. I figured you could apply.”
I had no problem getting a job, but the last thing I wanted was to fill my afternoons with work. It’s already obvious that the only gaming time I’m going to get in is before my dad gets home.
“Uh, well a few of these clubs are academically related. I tutor and then there’s the service club. Those look good on college applications.”
Dad grunts, knowing he’s caught in a hard place. College is important to him, although so is work. George eats his breakfast quietly, not wanting the attention on him. I know he’s focused on getting his portfolio in for the art school applications. They’re already late, due to the drama from being removed from Sierra’s house.
I look at my watch. “The bus is here in five minutes. We should go.”
“Okay,” he concedes. “We’ll talk about this more later.”
George and I gather our backpacks and head to the door. It’s not until we’re in the breezeway that my brother exhales, releasing the tension from the past fifteen minutes—if not longer. We’re out by the main road when he finally speaks, “You know, if it weren’t for Starlee, I’d leave now.”
I nod, seeing the bus coming our way. I feel the same, but at least we’ll get to see her at school. Talk about what happened and figure out how to see her. We both know she’s the only thing keeping us here. The only thing keeping us afloat.
3
Starlee
The combination of living in a small town and going to a small public school makes the concept of “living in a bubble” a harsh reality.
By Monday, the whole population of Lee Vines and Sierra Academy seem to know that George and Charlie were no longer living at the Wayward Sun. Less know the actual truth, but the stares and whispers I’d finally freed myself from after my arrival in town follow me down the hallways. Standing here, alone, avoiding the curious looks is worse than the first day of school.
“You may want to keep your distance. There may be spies in the school,” I warn, when Dexter and Jake finally appear at my locker. The ride on the bus had taken twice as long as driving with all the stops along the way. “I think everyone knows about George and Charlie.”
Jake narrows his eyes at the kids passing by. “Yeah, I wonder why.”
We all suspect that Christina is behind the call to the police, which resulted in our cases being flagged and Sierra’s foster home being under investigation.
“Do you think they’ll really come today?” I ask. I don’t need to say their names. There’s only two people we’re concerned with these days.
“They should. The last thing Mr. Evans needs is the guys to have attendance issues when he’s been fighting to get back custody.”
I focus on my locker, more specifically getting my math book out of my locker, which has wedged itself under a thick binder. I drop my backpack and grab the book with both hands, struggling against it.
“Babe,” Jake whispers, gently pushing me asid
e. He gets the book free easily, using his height and upper body strength. “What’s wrong?”
“Besides the obvious,” Dexter adds. His gray eyes, barely visible under his thick black cap, are filled with worry. Mr. Wolf, his biology teacher, will make him take the cap off before class, yet he wears it until the last minute.
“Do you think they hate me?”
Dex’s eyebrows furrow. “Hate you? Why?”
“I’m the reason they got sent back to their dad. If I’d never run away from home, the police wouldn’t have had me on file. I wouldn’t be listed as an 'at risk' kid or possible bad influence. If it weren’t for me, they’d still be at home with you two and Sierra.”
I can tell they’re not into my explanation, but that’s how I feel. It’s what I know.
“Don’t blame yourself for this. Sierra warned all of us and we ignored her. We knew we were pushing the lines with a few things,” Jake says. He’d been caught coming out of my room more than once. And Sierra knew Dexter and I had sex at the cabin over the summer. It’s not like her concerns aren’t without cause.
I slam my locker shut. “You really think they won’t be mad?”
Jake moves as if to throw his arm around me but I slide back, knowing contact is off limits—even if the whole school thought we were dating at homecoming. Any progress we’d made on that front is now dashed. He pins me with a look instead. “If I know one thing for certain in all of this, it’s that George and Charlie are pissed, but definitely not at you.”
