Spiral by Jacqueline Levine Read Free Book Online

deeply saddened and shocked by this awful tragedy, and we are keeping Cherie and the Goldmans in our thoughts and prayers.” Dirterazzi also extends its deepest sympathies to Cherie and her family during this time. Reps for Cherie have yet to return any of our calls, but we will keep you updated as we learn more
.
----

CHAPTER 6
    W ith Christmas abandoned and nothing worth getting up for, I stay in bed even after Britney leaves me. I stare at my cellphone as it charges on my nightstand, secretly hoping one of my friends will call and give me a reason to leave the house. They’re all busy with family stuff, though. I know I could be busy too, but not with the open-presents-and-have-breakfast kind of family stuff. I do my duty and shovel the driveway and the walk, but I watch movies and sports highlights on my laptop and altogether campout in my room afterward.
    My mom finally demands my presence for dinner at six o’clock. Cherie doesn’t join us for the meal, opting to instead stay hidden in the basement/makeshift guest room of our house. While the adults sniffle and force smiles at the table, the kids use manners to pass the plates of food around. It feels like I’m caught in a strange dimension where the twins care and our parents aren’t forcing conversation. We don’t open our presents, which are still sitting under the Christmas tree/Hanukkah bush, sad and lonely. We all help to clear the table, and Claudia loads the dishwasher. Chloe carefully puts the leftover food into plastic containers. Brenton brings plates of food down to Cherie and Danika, ever the grateful servant.
    My mom almost cries just from how nice and civil we are to one another. The twins hug her. Britney hugs Jim when he starts to cry. I take out the garbage, lower my head, and retreat back to my room.
    Mom comes by with a soft knock on my door later. “Can I come in?”
    I get up from bed and unlock it, swinging the door open. I don’t make eye contact but go right back to my bed. I pause my fifth movie of the day and avoid her gaze, waiting for her to speak. I don’t want to see her eyes rimmed with red, her nose pink and swollen. It bothers me to see my mom sad; it brings me back to a time I don’t want to remember.
    “How are you doing?” she asks, sitting on the foot of my bed.
    I check my empty email inbox for the twelfth time. “I’m fine. How’s everyone else?”
    She shrugs and sighs. “As good as can be expected, I guess.” She tugs on the leg of my sweatpants then sighs when I won’t look up at her. “Hey.”
    “What?” I don’t mean to groan it, but I do.
    “I know why you keep hiding in here, Jack, but it’s not going to make it go away,” she says.
    “I’m not hiding,” I reply. “I just don’t feel like being around a bunch of people crying all day.”
    “Jack, don’t be insensitive,” she chastises. “I didn’t raise you to be that way.” That’s the dreaded Mom argument that she always uses on me – as if I’m making her fail some test by not being perfect. I roll my eyes.
    “I’m not being insensitive. I just don’t have anything to say.”
    “You don’t have to say anything, Jack, you just have to be there for them. We have a lot of people here who are very deeply hurt by this tragedy. I know you can shut everything out, but – ”
    “Mom, I’m not shutting it out, I don’t feel like being out there right now. I don’t even know any of these people!”
    Mom purses her lips at me because she knows the truth. She knows I’ve seen enough crying and hurt to try to avoid it at every turn. She cocks her head and murmurs, “Treat them like family, Jack. That’s who they are. It’s not Brenton and Britney who need you to step up this time.”
    I’m annoyed with her for bringing
that
up. We don’t talk about
that
.
    I’ll do anything to stop this conversation from going forward. I close my laptop and cast an icy glare at her. “Fine. Where’s Cherie?”
    She waves a hand toward my