Read Break for Free Online

arm.
    “Hi.”
    Her mouth’s full, so she waves. I rescue Will. He’s turning purple from crying so hard.
    When you hold him close enough to your ear, it’s impossible to think.
    Sort of nice.
    “I wanted to talk to you,” Mom says.
    What is it about that sentence that makes your stomach curl up?
    She pats the table across from her. Will’s getting as close as he ever is to quiet, just doing his pissed-off whine. I sit down and try to concentrate on Jesse’s rowing and Will’s whimpers instead of her.
    “I haven’t really gotten to speak with you since the accident,” she says. “How’re the breaks feeling?”
    “Okay. I took some aspirin.”
    “Good.” She rakes her hair back in one hand. “Been praying?”
    Shit. “Yeah, Mom.”
    She sighs and takes my hand. “We feel guilty about this, Jonah.”
    I wonder if it’s only religious parents who always tell you how they feel. And I wonder if it’s only terrible children who don’t want to hear it.
    “Why?” I say. “I’m just clumsy.”
    She lays her fingertips over her mouth. “If there’s something going on—”
    “Nothing’s going on.”
    Will’s loud again, and Mom has to shout. “You know your dad and I love you very—”
    “I know, Mom. Thanks.” I’m at a loss for what this had to do with anything. I stand up and cradle Will over to the sink, start sponging the counter.
    Quietly, Mom says, “You know what he does, though. He belittles you. He pits you and Jesse against each other.”
    “Stop it. I could never be against Jesse.” Even if I wanted to be.
    She looks down and traces the woodwork on the table. “Well . . . look, darling, could you talk to him, then?”
    “What?”
    “Talk to Dad. Tell him you’re okay, that you know our family’s okay. That you’re keeping the family in mind.” Her lips fold into an envelope. “That’s all I mean.”
    “You tell him. I’m not getting involved in your issues.”
    “Jonah.”
    “No. You handle Dad, and I handle Jesse. Those are the rules.”
    We’ve never said this out loud, but it’s become clear over the years that we’ve made an agreement. It worked out fine until Will was born. Now we’re outnumbered.
    She scrapes her toast. “Your father doesn’t listen to me.”
    “Don’t do this. I’m not your therapist. Hire a marriage counselor. Use his money. This isn’t about me.”
    “Of course it is.”
    I set Will on the counter and pour orange juice. “I’ve got to get ready for school.”
    “Stop it, Jonah.”
    “Look,” I say. “I don’t want to argue about this. I’m fine. Everything’s fine. I just fell off my skateboard. It happens. People fall all the time.”
    “People don’t usually
break
things.”
    “I wasn’t wearing the pads. I’m a reckless teenager. Ground me. But stop making this some big issue.” I finish the orange juice. Forget oatmeal. I wash the baby-spit off my hands, shake out Jesse’s pills, and head downstairs with a Coke.
    He’s resting on the edge of the rowing machine, his elbows on his knees.
    “Good set?” I ask.
    He nods. “Half hour. No stopping.”
    “You’re a force, brother.”
    He coughs. “Mom pissed?”
    “Kind of. It’ll be good for her. She needs some cardiac exercise.” I hand him the pills. “She’s fine.”
    “I know.” Jesse dry-swallows the pills. “She’s always fine.”

ten
    BEFORE CALC, I MAKE OUT WITH CHARLOTTE BEHIND the gym.
    “Why, not-boyfriend,” she whispers, running her lips down my neck. “This is so naughty.”
    I say, “Shh.”
    She takes off my army hat and plunks it onto her head. It completely covers her bun and way-pierced ears.
    “I have to go,” I say.
    “Nooo.”
    I pull her close. She’s twenty degrees warmer than I am, and her winter-skin’s dry and her breath is wet. Not-dating leaves so much room for lust.
    “You have study hall,” I say into her mouth.
    She giggles. “Right. I’m supposed to be learning. Supposed to be getting”—she licks my