"You're gonna stay at our house from now on." Cody says dryly. "Since your parents are... Uhm... Gone..."
He had replaced the word "dead" with "gone" because he knew that the last time he said that to me, I ran away from him. I fake a small smile and reply with a simple "Ok."
My dad had married Cody's mom, Beatrice, before he married my mother. He and Cody's mom got divorced after she had him. My father then married my mother and she had me. My relationship with my dad was very close. He always found a way to make me laugh. As for my mom, she was the sweetest mother on the planet. Loving, caring and kind.
Cody and I have always hated each other. It makes sense because we're not technically blood-related.
We walk to Cody's home- well, my new "home"- and enter through the garage. Cody's mother greets me with a bone shivering, lifeless hug and says "Sorry for your loss, sweetheart."
Sweetheart. Why does everyone call me that?
Cody escorts me to my new room. He sympathetically smiles at me, although I know that deep down he doesn't feel sorry at all.
I crash onto the bed, bones aching, chest aching, mind aching.
I ball my eyes out. Rivers of tears soak into the comforter atop my bed.
I feel like screaming again, but I can't. I have to hold it all in, make it seem like I'm strong. I'm old enough to handle all of this, but it's just too much.
I look at the sketchbook, slowly flipping through each drawing. I pull the sketch of me out of my jean pocket and unfold it. I notice something written on the back- a phone number? I decide to text the number from my phone.
I typed quickly. My fingertips were numb from the cold weather, so they tingled as they bounced off of the keyboard.
Then, I pressed send.
I waited for a few minutes, then finally gave up.
I curled up into a ball under the sheets of my bed. It smelled like a mix of cologne and sweat. Gross.
Cody calls me out of my new bedroom for dinner.
I somehow withstand a tasteless dinner of ramen noodles. My stomach craves something more filling.
Or maybe, the emptiness I feel is the absence of my parents.
Dinner table conversations are non-exsistent, simply because nobody wants to evoke more sobs out of me. I've already basically drained my body of every salty tear it could possibly produce.
Cody's mom Beatrice kisses me goodnight and all she says is "Stay strong, honey."
I wish it was that easy.
