The Rockstar Chronicles

Supper

The nights around the fire pit were the best. After that night, me and Bridge and Tom began to spend more time together, staying late after dance practice to write our songs. I rarely contributed, but when I did, Tom said they were gems.

Ryder, Hardyn, and Grady played video games while we worked outside. Every now and then we would all play together, or they would come out and join us while Tom and Bridge performed, singing their songs and playing just for us. Our own private concerts.

It seemed like time had slowed and that we were always going to be that age and that things were never going to change. But I knew in my heart it would. And I was right.

Despite Mom's threats, we had still not had a family talk aka a call on speakerphone with Dad. I don't know if it was because Mom was getting her way or if she was too busy to notice or even care, but she became so distracted with everything that was going on that me and Grady fell by the wayside.

One afternoon, she sent us home after deciding that we could fend for ourselves in the kitchen and that she could not possibly miss an important meeting with the other parents and Mr. Kane. Not for the first time that week, my brother and I came home to an empty house.

It felt weird to wander around the house, but a storm was blowing in and I felt restless. As the wind lashed at the trees outside, sending tiny waves skirting around the edge of the pool, I went from room to room.

I lingered in the kitchen. It was cold and bare. Everything was perfectly in place and I opened one cabinet. Nothing lined the shelves but useless ingredients. One skill Mom had never insisted on teaching Grady or myself was how to take care of ourselves. I realized it as I stared at a bag of flour.

I had no idea how to do laundry or cook. I barely cleaned up after myself. I was entirely dependent on Mom and I resolved to change that as soon as possible.

"What are you doing?" Grady said and I turned to see him leaning over the counter behind me, his forearms resting on the countertop.

"Just wondering what to have for supper."

"Take-out?" Grady suggested as he straightened, brushing his hand over the clean surface as if to wipe away the non-existant crumbs.

"Or we could try to cook?" I suggested, raising one eyebrow at him.

He hesitated and I noticed with shock how much older my brother looked. Lines of exhaustion etched his face and dark circles stood out under his eyes. I thought for a moment that he was going to refuse, but as he stared at me, he started to grin.

"Yeah, why not?"

Half an hour later, we had a makeshift dinner of green beans, macaroni and cheese, and butternut squash cubes. We had ransacked the freezer for the vegetables and Grady had done surprisingly well cooking the macaroni and cheese.

We had laughed and teased each other as we cooked and it spilled over into our meal. We ate together in companionable silence. Grady was kind enough not to mention the lack of salt, or any flavor really, in the veggies I had been responsible for and I ignored the slightly charred taste on the macaroni and cheese where Grady had scalded the milk.

Rain dripped from the eaves as we ate together and I felt at peace.