Nobody but Us by Kristin Halbrook Read Free Book Online

her be strong. I promise her silently. Rest my lips at her temple. That promise is the last thing I remember before I fall asleep.
    My muscles groan at me when I wake. I’m too stiff to move, and Zoe’s gone from me. But there she is, just in the front seat. She turns to look at me when I grunt in her direction.
    “Hi there.”
    “Why’d you go up there?”
    “You were trying to move. Trying to get more comfortable, I think. I was in the way, so I came up here.”
    I sit up and my back’s pissed at me. “Ugh. We need a real bed.” She looks away for a sec, and I see the color and can’t hold back a smile. I reach forward for her hair and twirl a piece around my finger. “You can pick out the furniture, ’kay?”
    “Okay.”
    Outside the car I stretch and pop joints and moan a little. Blood begins rushing back into places I didn’t realize before were missing it. Little pins stab up my ankles and calves. I try to shake them out, but I can’t tell if it’s helping or making it worse.
    “Did you sleep up here?” I ask as I adjust the seat back to where I like it.
    “No. I wasn’t too tired.”
    “You just sat here?”
    “I took a walk. I thought about stuff. Made plans and went over things.”
    I look at the ignition as I insert the key ’cause all three of those things sound dangerous and freak me out. But I don’t want her to see that. She’s a big girl. She can take care of herself, even on walks in the middle of nowhere where ax murderers could be lying in wait for unsuspecting girls to go out alone. And thinking’s good. But making plans kinda messes with me. She’s smart enough to make plans without me, but I don’t want her to. I want to be a part of everything she does.
    “What kinds of plans were you making?” I make my voice steady and cool. I’m not trying to smother her. That ain’t right.
    “I was thinking about school. How I need to finish. Can I do that with a fake ID? How do I fill out forms? I guess I get my GED somehow … and then college?” She plays with a dolphin on her mom’s chimes while she talks. “What kinds of classes do I have to take? And about how I’m going to have to study a lot.” She’s holding the chimes up, making the dolphins swim. The sound’s annoying as shit. “And how I want to sit next to you on our couch and study while you watch baseball. I want you to learn how to play baseball, Will.” She drops the chimes and faces me. “I bet there’s some league you could play in or a college PE class or something. I’ll learn with you, if you want.”
    “Yeah, that would be cool.” I can’t tell her that there ain’t no way I’m gonna get in front of people and not be able to hit a ball. I can throw, I guess. Even catch. But swinging at a white blur flying by my stomach seems impossible. Connecting with anything that comes at me fast ain’t easy.
    It’s somewhere between lunch and dinnertime when we hit the road again. She surprises me by grabbing a bag down by her feet and pulling out a couple of apples, some crackers and cheese spread—the kind in crinkly plastic packages with the little red sticks—and a bag of frosted animal cookies with sprinkles.
    “Where’d that come from?”
    “I got it out of the trunk when you were sleeping. It was in my makeup case.” She lifts her chin a tad. “I didn’t pack my makeup.”
    Well, shit. Awe soaks me from head to toe like I got caught in the rain, and I’m reminded what a fuckup I am. I shouldn’t have doubted for a second that she could walk around the rest stop on her own. I gotta remember that, let her be strong on her own, ’cause a guy like me ain’t gonna fix her.
    She cheeses up some of the crackers and hands them my way as I drive. We share an apple, passing it back and forth after each bite. We’re both trying to take small bites, making sure there’s enough for the other person.
    I toss the core out the window. She pops a cookie in my mouth, but I ain’t paying attention.