Conner McDermott closed his eyes as the hot water pounded against his back. He ran a hand through his dark, wet hair, feeling the steam rise around him.
It was Sunday night, and Conner was normally a morning-shower person. But nothing about Conner's life had been normal lately.
"Or ever," he muttered, turning off the water and stepping out of the shower. He pulled a ratty navy blue towel around his waist, thinking how his lame attempt at relaxing himself had been a total failure. He was still completely keyed up. Which was a familiar feeling for Conner these days.
Sure, he'd managed to escape a little this weekend--by staying far away from his house and his ex-stepfather. He'd practically lived at Tia's, telling her that he wanted to keep her company since Angel had left for Stanford. Tia had probably seen right through him, but Conner didn't care. He just wanted his sanity. Which, at the moment, was nowhere to be found.
Knowing that Gary was in the same house as him made Conner's entire body tense up. The guy made him sick. If it wasn't for Megan, Conner would have hit the road as soon as Gary moved in.
Megan. Conner's stomach turned. He had barely seen her this weekend. He'd been too busy avoiding home. Meanwhile she was the one who was going to get her heart trampled.
He leaned over the sink, turned on the faucet, and splashed some cold water on his face. Things were going to change. As much as Conner hated to, he had to stick around the house for Megan's sake. She needed him.
Conner picked his faded Levi's off the floor and pulled them on. He scrubbed his face and hair dry, then walked out of the bathroom, heading straight for Megan's bedroom. No time like the present to stick to his resolution. Her door was already open a crack, so he just opened it wider, stepping inside.
"Hey, Megan," he said.
She was sitting cross-legged on the unpolished wooden floor, drawing on a large piece of poster board, felt-tip markers strewn all around her. "Hey!" she said, smiling, her green eyes bright.
Conner knew that Gary was the reason for Megan's smile, but he tried not to think about that. He dropped down onto her iron-frame bed and glanced at the poster board, lifting his head off her ridiculously large array of pillows. "Are you trying to score extra points for an oral presentation or something?"
"No!" Megan laughed, pulling her strawberry blond ponytail tighter. "I'm not that much of a kiss butt!" She lifted the poster board up off the floor so Conner could see. "I'm making a welcome-home sign for Mom."
"A what?" Conner sat up straight. In bright, perfect letters Megan had carefully stenciled
Welcome H and half of a green
o.Oh, man. What did she think was going to happen when their mom got home? That their lives were magically going to become better? "That's nice, Sandy," Conner said, using his nickname for her. "But Mom's not coming back for another three weeks."
"I know," Megan responded, placing the poster board back down. "But I can't wait! And I was thinking . . . maybe we could have a little party for her."
Conner moved to the edge of the bed. "A party?"
Megan sat up on her knees, beaming. "Yeah! Just the four of us."
Just the four of us? Right. Of course. Megan didn't know about her loving father's mysterious girlfriend--the one Gary was planning on moving into their house.
Conner had always hated Gary. They had done nothing but fight the entire time Gary was married to Conner's mother. And after Gary left, Conner
really hated him for deserting Megan completely. But a few days ago Conner had learned that Gary had actually fought for custody of Megan--something even Megan herself wasn't aware of. Unfortunately, just when Conner had started thinking his ax-stepfather might be a semiokay guy, he'd overheard Gary inviting his girlfriend to stay. Here. In Conner and Megan's house. While Megan was harboring delusions that her parents would reunite. What a guy.
Shaking his head, Conner stood and walked over to Megan's old wooden bureau. He fiddled with one of the drawer's loose knobs, trying to maintain his cool.
"We could have a nice dinner or something," Megan went on excitedly, oblivious to Conner's reaction. "You know, really make it into a celebration."
Clenching his fists, Conner walked over to her window, swearing that if Gary came in at that moment, he would knock the guy out. Conner narrowed his eyes at the pitch-black sky. Gary had no right to waltz into their life and do this. Get Megan's hopes up. Pretend that he was actually capable of acting like her father.
"Conner?" Megan said. "Is there a reason you're totally spacing?"
Conner sighed and sat down on her white, wooden desk chair. He knew he had to be careful to take the right tone. Otherwise she would just get defensive. She always did when it came to her father. "You gotta realize something, Sandy."
"What's that, O Wise One?" Megan leaned her back against the bottom of her bed, pulling her knees up to her chest.
She looked so happy. Conner took a deep breath. "When Mom gets home, Gary is not going to stay. The four of us are not going to be a family."
Megan's eyes became watery in a millisecond.
So much for taking the right tone."This again!" she snapped. "You're only saying that because you don't want it to happen."
"That's not true," Conner argued.
"It is," Megan insisted, standing up, an angry edge to her voice. In quick, jerky movements she began to gather her markers up from the floor. "You hate my father."
Conner looked at the floor. This was going exactly not as planned. Not that he'd had a plan.
He walked over to his sister, picked up a purple marker, and handed it to her. "Megan, this has nothing to do with me. It has to do with Gary."
Megan snatched the marker from him. "Don't, Conner." She shook her head, her cheeks turning pink as they always did when she got upset. "Don't even start with that."
Conner took a step back. "Start with
what?"She walked over and threw the markers on her small, white desk, turning her back on him. "Blaming my father. He is my father, you know."
Conner sighed, his frustration mounting. "Yes, Megan. I'm aware of that. But I also know that he--"
"God!" Megan exclaimed, whipping around. "You hate everyone, don't you?"
Conner stared back at her, speechless. He had never seen Megan like this. So full of rage. And at
him. "What are you talking about?" he finally managed.
Megan grabbed her Nike cross trainers off the floor. She pulled a pair of socks from inside them and stuffed them into her overflowing wicker hamper, then threw the worn-out sneakers onto her closet floor. "I mean, you kicked Liz out of the house--"
"Oh, come on," Conner cut in immediately, his insides contracting at the mention of Elizabeth's name. "We've been over this. That's totally different."
"No, it's not!" Megan picked up her brown teddy bear and tossed it onto her bed. Then she looked at Conner, her eyes narrowed, her cheeks a blotchy red. "You can't get along with anyone, Conner! You're the reason my dad left in the first place."
Conner blinked, feeling like he'd just been slapped. For a moment he simply watched his sister blankly, processing the fact that she
had actually just uttered those words to him.
Megan stormed back over to her desk, picking up the markers one by one and shoving them into their box. "If you didn't make things so hard for him, if you weren't always cutting school and stealing from the Circle K with Brett and Spencer and all those other losers, he never would've left."
If Conner's body was any tenser, he would have snapped in two. He couldn't believe he was getting blamed for this. Gary deserts his family, but Conner is the villain because he ran with the wrong crowd like
four years ago? He shook his head. "Is that what he told you?" he asked tersely.
Megan was silent for a moment. She focused on the box of markers. "He didn't have to tell me....I was here," she said quietly.
Conner's head throbbed. He opened his mouth, ready to explode at his sister--but then something made him hesitate.
It was the way she looked as she stood there in her pale blue cotton pajamas, loose strands of knotted red hair faring all around her face. Conner watched as she picked up her stencil and fidgeted with it, her watery eyes cast downward, her lips formed into a pout.
In that instant she looked so vulnerable.
Conner knew that she didn't mean the things she said. She was just sad. And hurt. The person that he
should blow up at was downstairs--most likely on the phone to his girlfriend.
Without saying another word Conner walked out of her room, closing the door behind him. As he trudged down the hallway, he realized that he'd never felt so hopeless in his life. And it wasn't because Megan's words had stung him--although even he had to admit they had--it was because for the first time in his life, his sister wouldn't listen to him. She was never going to hear what he had to say when it came to her father.
Conner reached his bedroom door and was hit by a fresh wave of hopelessness. Because he realized that there was one person out there who Megan
would listen to. One person she looked up to unconditionally. Elizabeth.
Conner walked into his room, slamming the door behind him.
But hell would freeze over before he'd ask Elizabeth Wakefield for help.
