Pieces

by G. Benson

  “Are they okay? Are they nice?”

  Now that he wasn’t looking at her like she’d betrayed him, she couldn’t stop touching him—her hands on his arms, over his hair. He let her for a moment, but then he squirmed, shooting her a slightly frustrated look. Only then did the tight ball of worry unknot, the one that hadn’t left her since those men had entered the bar.

  “They’re okay.” His voice was monotone. He stared over her shoulder at the brick wall behind them.

  “Mattie?”

  “They are. They’re fine. There’s a couple of other kids. One’s an asshole.”

  “Mattie!” But her snort of laughter meant he just threw her a grin and didn’t look chagrined at all. He’d learned that from Rae. She’d bet on it.

  “He is, though.” The grin was gone.

  “But it’s not terrible?”

  For a second, he stared at her, and she had the feeling he was waging war with something in his mind. If she knew her brother, he was deciding whether or not to lie. But about what?

  Finally, he shook his head. “It’s not.” His voice went tight. “But, Carmen, I don’t know them. It’s not…it’s not with you. I…” He was staring straight at her, and her shoulder would have bruises, his grip was so tight—proof of his desperation that she could carry with her. “I want to be back with you. I could come now.”

  He’d obviously decided not to lie and hoped she’d still take him.

  It would be easy. To duck off now. To take his hand and take him back. Her instincts screamed at her to do it. He stared straight at her, his broken face so close. When she raised her hand, her fingers trembled against his unbruised cheek. Soft. Like when he was a baby.

  “I can’t.”

  His jaw tightened, a muscle flexing in his cheek. “I knew you’d say that.” That muscle relaxed. “I remember everything you said in the hospital. Everything else is so fuzzy. But I remember that.”

  “I’m not leaving you there, Mattie. I’m not.”

  He stared at her a while longer, as if he was searching her for something. “I want to come back.”

  And then he broke into sobs, and she pulled him into her and let him cry. Under her hands, his chest felt as if he’d break apart from the heaving, and she did her best to hold him together.

  She hated that she’d have to push him back together, then push him away again.

  But she’d let him have another minute before she did that.

  Ollie never spoke to her dad about the fact that he let Carmen stay.

  But on Thursday, with him on the sofa and her standing with the coffee table between them, she tried not to fiddle with her phone too much when she asked if she could stay at Carmen’s.

  It wasn’t entirely fair, because her father knew nothing about where Carmen stayed, that it wasn’t a safe house nestled in a safe neighborhood. But Ollie was nearing eighteen, and if everything worked out, she would be at college within the year anyway, not living at home. Also, he did know that Carmen didn’t live at home, that she looked after herself. And maybe it was time to give him some more information? The other night, Carmen had said she could. That she should.

  He eyed her over the book he was reading on the sofa. “You want to stay the night at your girlfriend’s?”

  “Uh, yeah.”

  His throat bobbed, he swallowed so hard.

  “We want to see her brother.” Ollie bit her lip. She hadn’t really meant to tell him so much.

  “She has a brother?”

  In the middle of the living room, Ollie kind of felt like she was in the spotlight or at an interview. Nerves twisted in her belly, which was ridiculous. She dropped to the floor and crossed her legs, instantly feeling more comfortable, less formal now.

  “She does. His name is Mattie.”

  “And where is Mattie, if her parents are…gone?”

  “Foster care.”

  Her father put his book down, and it thunked heavily against the wooden coffee table. The dark brown of his eyes softened as he put his elbows on his knees. “That must be hard for them. Were they close? How old is he?”

  “He’s nine.”

  Her father gave a low whistle. “He’s young.”

  “And they’re very close. Carmen misses him. More than I understand, I think.” Ollie picked at a hole in the knee of her jeans. “I think it’s harder for Mattie. They were in foster care before. Neither of them had a great experience.”

  Even though Carmen had said Ollie could tell her dad, her hands were clammy. Her stomach turned over just a little. No matter what Carmen had said, were these really her secrets to spill?

  “Shouldn’t Carmen be in foster care?”

  She could feel his eyes on her, and Ollie didn’t want to lie. How long had he wanted to ask more? “She left it.”

  “She ran away.”

  The words should have echoed around the room, the truth of them thick and rebounding off the walls. An adult wasn’t supposed to know this. That was the one rule. But he was always going to guess. And Ollie couldn’t lie to him, not after everything.

  “She’s eighteen soon. She would have been aged out anyway.” Ollie met her father’s eyes, and that soft look was still there. She could see thoughts flashing over his face. Was he wondering if he should call someone? Did he realize it would cause more trouble than solutions? He seemed to settle on that idea, because he didn’t look outraged. Rather, he just looked…concerned.

  “Does she have what she needs? How does she have money if she’s not in the system?”

  Ollie shrugged. “She gets by.”

  Some days, Ollie wanted to leave money in Carmen’s bag. To take out some of her savings, or leave the cash her dad left her in her backpack without thinking twice. Something, though, a small voice inside her head, told her Carmen wouldn’t like that. But sometimes she sat in the ease of her house, at her table and among her things, and couldn’t not see how absurd it was, how much she had and how little Carmen did. She wanted to give it all to her.

  “Is she safe, Ollie?”

  The concern in his voice made Ollie want to hug him.

  “She is.”

  And that was mostly true. What had happened could happen to anyone walking down the street. The situation in the warehouse was like Carmen lived with a foster family anyway. Or an aunt and uncle and her hyperactive cousins.

  “Is she in school?”

  “No.”

  The lines around his eyes deepened even further.

  Ollie rushed to interrupt. “She may go back. Right now she’s trying to earn money, to get a good place, and to be able to prove she can look after her brother when she’s eighteen. Besides,” she said, testing him and not liking herself much for it, “school isn’t the be-all and end-all.”

  At that, her father eased himself back against the couch. “She wants to look after her brother?”

  “Yeah.”

  “She’s seventeen.”

  Nodding, Ollie didn’t know what to say.

  “Ollie.” What if he told her he was calling the police? “If you stay at her place, you have your phone, okay? And you call if you need anything, at any time. I know…” He squinted at her. “I know you could have easily told me you were staying with Sara or at Deon’s. I—in not that long, you won’t even be living at home. I don’t see the point in policing your decision. But you call me if you need anything at all, okay? Or if, if Carmen does.”

  And he meant that. She blinked at him for a moment.

  “I can help her, if she needs it,” he added.

  Ollie stood up and walked around the coffee table she’d used as some kind of barrier. Before either of them knew what was happening, she threw herself at her father, her arms wrapping around him. For just a split second, one that seemed t
o go on forever, he froze, muscles tensing. But then his arms engulfed her, tight around her shoulders. His chest was like she remembered it, under her cheek. She closed her eyes and breathed in. He still smelled the same.

  For some reason, that made her throat tighten.

  When she pulled away, he let her go, somewhat slowly, as if reluctant to do so. When he spoke again, his voice was tight. “What was that for?”

  She shrugged. “Nothing.”

  Everything about his gaze was soft, and he squeezed her shoulder before letting his hand fall away. She tried a smile, surprised it was a little wobbly. The one he gave in reply echoed hers, and Ollie stood.

  “Great. I’ll head there soon.”

  “Want a lift?”

  “It’s okay, thanks. I think Sara is picking me up. She’s going out anyway.”

  “Okay.”

  She grabbed the bag she had ready with things jammed in it for school the next day and a change of clothes. With a last “see you tomorrow” to her dad, she met Sara in her car.

  “You okay?” Sara asked.

  In the twilight, Ollie nodded. “Yeah, I am.”

  “Good to hear.”

  And the next smile Sara gave was so genuine that Ollie wanted to look away, even as she gave her own back.

  “So,” Ollie started. “You and Rae admitted you’re totally dating yet?”

  Groaning, Sara turned to look out the windshield and started the car. “I take it back. Go back to being moody.”

  Ollie laughed and settled into the seat.

  Chapter 24

  Some days, Ollie went with Carmen to the school. Carmen liked when she could go, because it wasn’t often. On the other hand, Carmen went every day. She needed Mattie to know she was still there.

  And she needed Mattie. Period.

  But it was nice, the times Ollie did go. When Mattie would make his way to the bus, the one that left about fifteen minutes after school finished, Carmen didn’t have to stand there alone and watch his tiny body get engulfed by the people in the line. The days he turned around in his seat, hand splayed over the glass as he looked to see if she was still watching—she always was—she didn’t have to take a shuddering breath in by herself. Ollie’s fingers, warm and firm, would entwine with her own and squeeze.

  The first day Carmen took Ollie to meet Mattie, Ollie had stayed the night in the warehouse. How quickly Carmen was getting used to seeing so much of her was almost worrying. Waking up to Ollie’s hair in her face, or with just a foot thrown lazily over Carmen’s calf, was soothing. Carmen could lie awake and stare at the ceiling, and eventually the steady breathing next to her would lull her back to sleep.

  Ollie didn’t stay over often, but it was amazing when she did. Slowly, Carmen was realizing she was letting another person stitch themselves under her skin. When it came to Ollie, though, Carmen just couldn’t find it in her to care that she normally needed to keep her distance from people.

  So the first time they stood across from each other, the three of them hidden away in the little alcove, Mattie had cocked his head. “You’re the one that called the police.”

  Ollie had swallowed so hard Carmen heard it. “Yeah, that was me.”

  His eye, the injured one, still mostly closed, narrowed. “That was stupid.”

  Before Carmen could tell him that was unfair, Ollie said, “It was. I know that now. But I didn’t then.”

  Without answering, Mattie just stared at her again. Finally, he said, “You’re also the one that makes my sister smile like an idiot. That’s nice.” That had made Carmen roll her eyes.

  Ollie had just laughed. “Really?”

  His posture shifted slightly as he slipped his hands into his pockets. “Really. She’s such a sap. It’s gross.”

  Ollie had looked at her, but Carmen ignored it. “Anyway!” She shot her brother a glare, and he shrugged. “I just thought you two should meet properly.”

  “I got you something.” Ollie swung her backpack to her front and unzipped it. Carmen hadn’t known anything about that. She watched, head cocked.

  After digging around for a second, Ollie pulled out a handful of DS games. Mattie’s eyes lit up like the Christmas lights he and Carmen used to watch in the city center together. When she’d mentioned Mattie’s DS to Ollie, she’d never expected this.

  “What—what is that?” Mattie’s voice had a cautious slowness to it. The sound brought up a familiar ache in her, one that made her want to clasp him to her, to protect him from whatever disappointment he was wary of. But this wasn’t one of her mom’s empty promises that would leave him crushed. This was Ollie.

  Ollie shrugged, and Carmen could tell she was trying to be nonchalant. “Some games I used to play, but I don’t really have time to anymore.” She held the fistful out. “You want them?”

  Mattie eyed her for a second, still unsure, disbelieving. “Really?”

  “Sure.”

  He glanced to Carmen, who mimicked Ollie with a shrug of her own, then back to Ollie. “O—okay.”

  Having smaller hands like his meant he had to take the games in both of them, clutching them to his chest. They looked like they were about to overflow from his arms. A smile started to take over his face. “Thanks.”

  “No problem.”

  It turned out Carmen needn’t have ever worried about Ollie and Mattie getting along. Mostly what they did was tease Carmen. Which should have gotten old very quickly, but the sight of them both sharing that wicked glint in their eyes made warmth spread throughout her belly.

  She missed having Mattie around all the time, but as the bruise faded around his eye, much slower than the one on Carmen’s face, she was simply relieved to see that those smiles didn’t stop.

  One day, she sat on the hard cement in the alcove, her back against the brick behind them. Mattie plopped down next to her, crossing his legs and hugging his backpack to his chest. Summer school had started, and he’d been required to take part to catch up. Luckily, the bus he caught left a little later than the one during the usual school year. It was nice. They had more time.

  “Where’s Ollie?”

  “She has her SATs real soon. She’s studying.”

  He snorted. “Sucker. She’s stuck doing schoolwork in summer like me.”

  “Yeah, she says to say hi, though.”

  “Cool. Tell her hi back. And to make sure she takes a break so she doesn’t get too stressed.”

  Carmen smiled down at his head. A truck rumbled past on the road, and a few cars pulled up and drove away, collecting the few other kids in the summer program. “Tell me about the people in the house, Mattie.”

  He shrugged against her arm, but she didn’t look at him. Instead, they both stared out of the little alcove, watching people pass.

  “They’re okay. The adults are kind of nice. They’re old, like sixty or something. I met their kid. He’s old too, and an accountant.” He turned his head so she met his eye. His eyebrows were all scrunched up. “Do you know what that is?”

  “Someone that does taxes and stuff.”

  “Exactly. How boring does that sound?”

  Carmen laughed. “Really boring.”

  “I asked him why he’d wanna do that, and he said he liked numbers. I told him you did too. Maybe you could be an accountant?”

  No words rose up to tell Mattie that to do that, she needed to be in school. To go to college. All things she couldn’t do if she wanted to work and have the money to prove she deserved her brother. Anger curled in her stomach again at that thought, tingling over her limbs and her fingertips; her temperature spiked. Having to prove that was still the most unfair thing she had ever heard of. “Maybe” was all she said.

  “Astronauts need to be good at math. Maybe you could be one of those.”

 
Carmen chuckled, throwing an arm over Mattie’s shoulder. “That would be cool.”

  He nodded, his hair rubbing against her cheek.

  God, she loved him. Her cheeky, frustrated, funny little brother, who looked at her like she could do no wrong “You got distracted. The family?”

  He sighed. “They’re fine. They’re kind of like the last one, but they pay more attention. I told you, there are four other kids. But one’s an asshole—” she squeezed him in warning “—fine, a douche—” she squeezed him harder. “Oof—fine, a mean guy. Better?” He didn’t wait for her to respond. “He’s angry all the time and picks on one of the other guys. But Rob and Faye, the parents, know he is and try to stay on top of it. They said we have to be understanding, ’cause he’s been through a lot. But Carmen.” He sat up and twisted to stare at her, his eyes an earnest brown like earth, rich and full of promise. “The other kids have been through stuff too. And me, I s’pose. And the girl that’s there. And none of them are as much an assho—idiot as him.”

  Those words. And himself, Mattie had supposed, like an afterthought. Like the life he’d had wasn’t really all that bad. Like being cold and hungry most of the time, with a mother that had left him with a sister too young to figure it all out, wasn’t that big of a deal. Like the foster homes hadn’t been hard, even when they were better compared to most. Like the street was easy.

  But he knew other stories now. Maybe that was it.

  “Well.” Carmen licked her bottom lip slowly, trying to figure out what to say. “Some people don’t handle things the same. Some things are too big for some people.”

  “Maybe he’d always been alone.”

  Carmen blinked at him. “Maybe.”

  “That sucks for him, that he didn’t have a sister like you to help him.”

  Carmen really, really loved her little brother.

  In a fit of uncertainty, Ollie had signed up for the SATs at the start of summer. Her school had bugged her to, and her dad had nudged her along. They were worried about her results, she knew. After the year she’d had, she was behind, and she had never been the best student anyway. If she took the SATs over the summer, she would have time to take them again senior year if she needed to. Which she would, she knew.