Chapter 34 #2
“It’s real easy. I’ll be honest with you, but you have to be honest with me. You told me once that I wasn’t a bullshitter, and you liked that.” He nods again, glancing at me before looking away. “I don’t want you to bullshit me, either, alright?”
He sighs, looking at his lap. “I’ll do my best.”
That’s all I can really ask for. “Why’d you run?”
“I made Arlo cry.” I look at him, and he turns away completely.
“I’ve never seen Arlo cry. Not when Mom was doing drugs.
Not when Dad was smacking him around. Not even when he had to leave us.
Never. I’ve never seen him cry. And I—” His voice cuts off on a choked little sound. “I made him cry,” he whispers.
A huge part of me wants to tell him it’s okay.
That Arlo knows he didn’t mean it. That he didn’t hurt Arlo’s feelings.
But I just promised not to bullshit him, and I’m not going to.
“You did,” I say softly. “You really hurt his feelings. He’s trying very hard to do right by you and Nora, and what you said—whatever you said—hurt him. ”
His head whips toward me, his eyes wide. “He didn’t tell you what I said?”
I shake my head. “He sure didn’t, and I don’t need to know. If you want to tell me, you can, but you don’t have to.”
Salem nods, biting his lower lip before he finally turns away.
“Why did you come here?” I ask when he doesn’t say anything.
He shrugs. “I like the horses. They make me feel calm.”
Animals really are great for that. Horses, especially. “Are you feeling calm now?”
He nods.
“What’s going on, Salem? Talk to me. And remember—”
“No bullshitting,” he says, cutting me off.
I muster up a smile. “Exactly. No bullshitting.”
“I’m scared,” he whispers. I’m not really sure what to say to that, so I don’t say anything at all. “I was supposed to come live with Arlo, right? I was ready for that.” He shakes his head. “And then it was you.”
I frown; I can’t help it. “You don’t want to live with me?”
He groans, clearly frustrated. “It’s not that.
It’s just—” He stops talking, then sighs.
When he starts back up again, his voice is low and pained.
“We grew up bad. You know that, right? You saw our town. We didn’t have nothin’.
Arlo had to work so hard to make sure we ate and that we had lights and stuff. ”
I nod, my throat tightening.
“And then,” he continues, “he left. S’fine. I don’t blame him. I’m not even mad at him. Even though I told him I was.”
“I think he knows you’re not mad at him,” I say softly.
I want to pull him into a hug so badly, but I figure I’d better not. He’s being open with me, and I don’t want to do anything that might make him stop.
“I hope.” He glances at me. “I was so mean to him.”
“It’s okay, Salem. Arlo loves you. I know he’ll forgive you. He just wants to help you. He wants to know how to help you.”
“It’s not him, really.” I’m about to ask him what he means by that when he drops his gaze to the hay. “It’s you.”
I swallow hard, my heart hammering. I’m trying not to take that personally, but it feels a little personal. That’s not on him, though, so I don’t let it show. “Okay. Can you explain that?”
“You keep offering to buy me shit.”
I cock my head, confused. “Okay?”
“And it’s crazy. No one offers to buy me shit. I mean, Arlo does, but that’s it.” He turns to look at me. “You picked us up in this big, fancy truck and then took us right to the store and bought us suitcases. My stupid suitcase was almost a hundred dollars.”
“It wasn’t that big of a deal,” I defend quietly.
“It’s more than a week’s worth of groceries for me and Nor.
” His words stop me dead. “Arlo used to send us a hundred dollars a week. I could get all the food we needed and extras with that same amount of money. You spent a whole week’s worth of grocery money on a fucking container for clothes.
I haven’t even touched that thing since we got here. What am I gonna use it for?”
I stare at him in stunned silence. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think about that.”
“And then,” he says, rambling on like I didn’t even say anything, “you tell us to pick snacks at the gas station—whatever we want. Then McDonald’s.
Then you take us home, and your door has buttons.
You have to type in a code to get inside.
And we have our own rooms, and they’re nice. I’ve never had a bed that nice. Never.”
I swallow, my throat convulsing.
“Then you wanna get us phones and a fucking pool? It’s all just so crazy. Then you took us to that restaurant. Over two weeks’ worth of grocery money on one meal.”
Fuck. That really is kind of crazy when I look at it through his eyes. “I’m really sorry, Salem. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable. I just… I want to spoil you. All of you. And money is…” I wave a hand in the air. “It’s just a thing. It’s nothing to me.”
He nods. “I know. But it’s not nothing to me.” Those simple words humble me almost more than anything else I’ve ever heard in my life. “I don’t want you to think I don’t appreciate you, because I do. But what happens when you get tired of us, y’know?”
“That’s not going to happen,” I say automatically.
Salem shoots me a glare. “We’re trash, and you’re not.”
For the first time since I got to the barn, a rush of anger washes over me. “You’re not trash, Salem. Don’t say that shit.”
He blinks at me. “It’s the truth.”
“It’s not the truth. It couldn’t be further from the truth.”
He sighs. “Okay, fine. It’s not the truth. Whatever. But what happens if it is? Then what? Nor is doing good. She’s happy. She fits in. I don’t…” My heart aches at the raw pain in his voice. “I’m not good enough for you. Like Nora is.”
All the air gets sucked out of my lungs at those words. “What do you mean you’re not good enough for me?”