Page 85 of The Design of Goodbye
I took our truth book out of the front pocket of my coat and opened it. It was dark out, and the few streetlamps illuminating the park weren’t enough to show Liam’s handwriting. It didn’t matter because we both knew what it said:
My dad’s addicted to poker.
He rocked back and forth on his swing. “You sound surprised.”
“I thought you were going to tell me why you missed the end of junior year.”
He stilled. “I’m never going to talk about that.”
“Oh,” I said, slightly taken aback. “That’s okay. I’ll never make you talk about something you don’t want to. I promise.”
“Thanks,” he said gratefully. Then he pointed to his truth. “That’s why I can’t get into my house sometimes.”
“Because of poker?”
“Yeah,” he said. “When dad has guys over to play, he doesn’t want me at the house.”
He handed me back the coffee, and I took another sip, trying to keep myself warm. “Is that why you work so much? He spends all your money playing poker?”
“Pretty much.”
“Do you get to keep any of it?”
“No.”
Everything made sense now. His old clothes, no computer. Lack of food. “What if you need something?”
“I steal five or ten bucks when I can.”
Five dollars? I thought of how much money I spent a week on coffee and felt guilty. “That’s not much.”
“My dad can’t find out.”
“But you earned that money.” I thought about the Buzz he’d brought me two weeks ago and how much it’d cost him.
“Yeah, well,” he said bitterly. “My dad doesn’t care.”
“Your dad doesn’t sound very nice.”
“You could say that.”
I refilled the lid with coffee. At this rate, we were going to have to leave soon without the drink to keep us warm. “You’ve never told me—where did you move from?”
“Grand Haven.”
“Why’d you move?”
“My dad got the job at Gary’s. They were old high-school buddies.”
“What about your mom?” I asked. “Does she do anything about your dad?”
His silence said it all.
“She’s not around,” I said softly, “is she?”
“No. She—” He swallowed thickly. “She left me.”
The pain in his voice sounded new, like her leaving him had been recent. My heart ached for him because I understoodexactlyhow he felt.
