Chapter 3
Dinner time. Mom didn't cook.
It was her way of fighting back.
I ignored her and took Lucas downstairs.
We went to the same little diner as before.
I ordered him four dishes and soup.
He ate as if he'd never seen food before.
I watched him. "Lucas. Remember. In that house, you only listen to me."
He looked up from his bowl, then nodded.
"If Emily gives you something, don't take it," I said.
He nodded again.
"If my parents yell at you, pretend you don't hear," I added.
He was still nodding.
"Can you do that?" I asked.
"Mm."
One syllable. Good enough.
After dinner, I took him to the grocery store.
I bought him new stuff and new clothes.
He was like a big kid, pushing the cart.
Every colorful thing on the shelves caught his eye.
But he was good. He waited for my nod before touching anything.
We got home. The living room was empty.
Mom and Dad were in their room. Emily was gone too.
She was probably out with Michael.
I told Lucas to shower. Then I pulled out the sofa bed.
"You're sleeping here tonight," I said.
He came out of the bathroom, hair wet.
He was wearing the new pajamas I'd bought him.
He sat on the couch, knees pulled up. He was still holding that Rubik's Cube.
I got my hairdryer. "Come here."
He came over and sat in front of me.
I turned it on and dried his hair.
His hair was soft. It smelled like fresh soap.
I was gentle.
He didn't move like a big, calm dog.
I finished the job and turned it off.
"Okay. Sleep," I said.
I started for my room.
Suddenly, Lucas grabbed my shirt.
I turned. "What?"
He looked at me. His big eyes were clear under the light.
He pointed at my room, then at the couch. Then he shook his head.
"You want the bed?" I asked.
He nodded.
"No," I said. "Couch is fine."
He didn't let go. Just stared. His eyes actually looked... sad?
A slow guy with feelings. That was almost funny.
"Let go," I said. "I need to sleep."
He held on tighter.
We just stood there.
Just then, I heard keys rattling in the door.
Emily was back.
She saw us. Then she cast me a look of disgust. "Sarah, your standards are really scraping the bottom now. Even a slow kid?"
I pulled away from Lucas. "Worry about yourself."
Emily snorted. "Just saying. Don't play with fire. Mom and Dad are about to have heart attacks because of you. You should send him back tomorrow."
Then she clicked off to her room in her heels.
I looked at Lucas.
He looked back at me.
"Hear that?" I asked. "Nobody here wants you except me. So. You do what I say."
He dropped his head like a kid in trouble.
"Go to sleep," I told him.
He finally lay back down on the couch and pulled the blanket over his head.
I went to my room and locked the door.
Lying in bed, I couldn't sleep.
Step one of the plan worked.
It went better than I thought.
The way Emily looked at Lucas, it was like he was trash.
She'd never steal trash.
But then why was my head so messed up?
In the middle of the night, I woke up thirsty.
I went to the kitchen for water.
The living room was pitch black.
The only light was the moon shining in through the window.
The lump on the couch moved.
I thought he was asleep.
But then, to my surprise, he sat up.
He quietly stared at the moon, his fingers moving on that cube.
Click. Click.
The sound was loud in the quiet.
I didn't turn on the light, because it might scare him.
I quietly got my water and drank it.
I started back to my room.
As I passed the couch, I stopped.
His fingers were flying on that cube. Fast. Smooth.
Click. Six sides. All matching colors.
He put the finished cube on the coffee table. Then he looked up.
In the darkness, I couldn't see his face. But I felt his eyes on me. It was not a slow guy's eyes. Sharp. Awake. And something else. Curious.
My heart stopped. I almost dropped the glass.
He saw me. I stood there frozen.
We stared at each other in the dark. It felt like forever.
Then he spoke. His voice was rough and low. Not his daytime voice. "Tired of pretending all these years?"
My blood went cold.