The Year I Almost Drowned by Shannon McCrimmon Read Free Book Online Page A

because,
    well,
    he
    stinks.”

    “That’s
    mean.”

    He shook his head. “Nah, he doesn’t care. The guy reeks of garlic. It’s all he eats.
    I think he eats more of it now that he’s inherited the name.”

    “It
    still
    sounds
    mean.”

    “Did you register for classes?” he asked, changing the subject.

    “Yeah.
    I
    did
    it
    yesterday.
    I’ll
    have
    a
    full
    load.”

    “I
    bet
    you’re
    excited.”

    “Yeah,” I said with a slight lilt in my voice, which was a dead giveaway that I was
    lying. I wasn’t as excited as most people are when they’re about to start school.
    I just worried that going away to school meant things between Jesse and me were
    going to change. How could we date when I was going to be so far away? How
    was that going to work? It was difficult enough not seeing each other that much
    now, but once I moved, we wouldn’t see each other for months.

    His
    forehead
    creased.
    “Really?”
    he
    said
    incredulously.

    “Yes.”

    “Well, you should be. That’s a good school and you’re getting it all paid for.”

    “I
    thought
    you
    never
    heard
    of
    it,”
    I
    teased.

    “I’ve
    done
    my
    research.”

    I folded my arms against my chest. “Is this what you do when I’m not around?”

    “I wish,” he said. “Nope. Most of the time, I’m studying chapters and chapters of
    stuff for school. We usually have a test on five chapters at a time.”

    The waiter brought the food and placed my plate in front of me and then Jesse’s
    dish in front of him. The steak looked juicy and tender. A serving of whipped
    buttery mashed potatoes sat on the plate next to it. I grabbed the large fork and
    knife and began to cut small pieces. I hoped I was using the right fork but it didn’t
    make
    sense
    to
    use
    a
    small
    fork
    for
    a
    big
    slab
    of
    meat.

    “What’s
    the
    small
    fork
    for
    anyway?”
    I
    asked.

    “It’s the dessert fork. The one in the middle is the salad fork. You’re eating with
    the right fork.” He cut a piece of steak, put it on his fork and placed it in his mouth.

    I looked at him with a stunned expression as he chewed his food. “How do you
    know
    this?”
    Jesse
    surprised
    me
    sometimes.

    “My
    mom,”
    he
    answered
    and
    took
    another
    bite.

    “Oh,”
    I
    whispered.
    “She
    taught
    you
    a
    lot.”

    “She
    knew
    just
    about
    everything.”

    I wished I had known her because a huge part of Jesse and all the beautiful things
    I
    loved
    about
    him
    had
    to
    be
    gifts
    from
    her.

    He sat quietly for a minute with a thoughtful expression. “I’m picking my dad up
    from
    rehab
    tomorrow.”

    His dad had finally agreed to go to rehab for his alcohol addiction. Jesse lost his
    mom when he was ten after she was killed by a drunk driver, and since that time,
    he’d essentially been raising his father. It’s ironic that his father was an alcoholic
    since that was what killed his mother, but Hank had a serious weakness for
    drinking and couldn’t seem to stop even though it affected Jesse in so many
    ways. Jesse never had the opportunity to experience a real childhood after his
    mother died. He spent his days cleaning the house, cooking dinner, putting his
    dad to bed and then when he was old enough to drive, picking him up at bars in
    the middle of the night. Jesse sacrificed so much, while his dad gave up little in
    return. I was glad his dad finally agreed to get help for his addiction. Jesse didn’t
    say much, about why his dad had a sudden change of heart, only that they had
    a major argument and that he told him he wasn’t going to enable him anymore. It
    was an epoch for Jesse. He said he did it because of me, because I’m the one
    that made him see that he wasn’t living his life, that he was giving it up for his
    dad. I can’t take that kind of credit; Jesse had reached his point and finally had
    decided
    enough
    was
    enough.

    “Do
    you
    want
    me
    to
    go
    with
    you?”
    I
    asked.

    “No. It’s better I do this on my own,” he answered