She wasn’t sure if Timothy had gotten his phone. But she did drive by his now burnt-down home. Onlookers stood around various points on the sidewalk, talking to each other while keeping their eyes on the damage.
The home was gone and completely gone. The floorboards were visible, the walls had collapsed inward, pipes stuck out in various areas, and the basement, where she fondly remembers playing basketball, was wholly exposed. It was as if the fire department took time to get to it. The neighboring house sustained minor smoke damage.
One fire truck was parked next to it, and two firefighters and one individual dressed in a professional-looking coat were assessing the damage.
The sugarmill. Across the other side was a parking lot. All anyone had to do was park there, walk across the sugarmill, across the empty field, and start the fire. Clearspring’s history, long gone, may have been used against her.
Still no messages from Timothy. She drove to school, with no music playing or breakfast burrito, and quietly made her way to Math class. Mr. Witman wasn’t there, and a janitor and more teachers than needed assessed the broken glass. The janitor tried to play cop and began carefully placing glass in plastic bags. For prints, he kept saying.
She watched them clean up from her desk on the opposite end of the room. The cold air came in as the plastic they taped up didn’t do much for the fall weather. Whispers between students about the broken glass took over the usual phone garb or the football playoffs.
“It was probably Duck Face,” someone said.
“He seems like the type,” another.
“God, I hope he doesn’t go on a rampage,” a boy said.
“It was definitely Duck Face.” Liam checked around his desk for broken glass. “That asshole hates me for no good reason.”
Sarah breathed in. “You think Timothy broke that glass to get back at you? What exactly does that do to you?”
“I don’t know. That kid doesn’t think right.”
“Maybe it was just a coincidence, not everything is about you.”
Despite the cheerleading mutiny, everyone still listened as she spoke. That aura never changes in her presence. Even another cheerleader who voted against her perked up.
“Sure it is, kick him in the balls next time,” Liam said.
She rolled her eyes and scrolled through her phone.
There was no sign of Mr. Witman in the school. But as soon as the bell rang, he spun right in, like he was leaning against the wall in the hallway waiting for his class to start.
He made no eye contact with Sarah and started the lesson.
Gym class felt empty. The excitement of sports exertion with Timothy wasn't there. Despite accidents like getting careened by Rory, she loved comforting him.
And Mrs. Witman taught her class in a dry, robotic way. Just going through the lesson in the book, asking fewer questions than usual, and assigning the homework early, the class started on it before the bell rang. As Sarah walked by Mrs. Witman, she stopped and stared. Mrs. Witman didn’t look up at her.
***
“Kayla and Timothy are in a hotel right now,” her mom told her. “We’re pooling some clothes and items for them, which includes new phones. Tomorrow they're going to stay at a coworker's place.”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Sarah sat with her utmost attention. “When can he go back to school?”
“Kayla mentioned moving and finishing the school year online.”
“Where?”
“Avondale.”
She rolled her eyes. Of course, their rivals would take in Timothy. “That’s not too far.”
The Carr parents ate their food and spoke about the issue with ease. Doctors deal with a lot of trauma. “We’ll buy them a new home.”
Sarah dropped her fork. “Whoa.”
“We haven’t had a chance to thank her and her son for Bri.”
“What about insurance?”
“I have a feeling things won’t work in their favor.”
She hugged her mom. A big, tight hug. It’s been a while, and Dr. Carr wished she had helped Timothy more if that meant more hugs from her child.
“I have the address,” her mom said.
***
Sarah drove to Avondale the following day. To Bri’s chagrin, Twain left the Carr household, and came along pacing around in the back, and the synthesizer sat in the passenger seat. Driving further away from Clearspring reminded her of how rural life can become. Ranches, silos, farms, cows, slow tractors taking up space on the road, and an occasional diner. Clearspring had bike paths, dining, coffee, and yoga. Out here, it’s nothing. Leaves rustled across the roads as she took the turn into Avondale.
The house was a typical middle-class home built in the 70s, ranch style with a large yard. Timothy waited on the doorstep and waved as soon as he saw her.
She didn’t bother to turn the car off to run out and hug him. “I’m so sorry.”
Twain jumped up at him, and he started petting him with one hand, but kept his focus on Sarah. “It’s fine. How’s your arm been?”
“A little itchy,” she held her arm up to show the cast, then dropped it. “And what the heck, your house burned down, but you're asking about my arm?”
“Yeah, I’ve been wondering but couldn’t text you.”
“It’ll be off in another week.”
He gave a half smile and relaxed back. “I’m really sorry about everything.”
She felt the sincerity in his tone. “I don’t think either one of us should apologize for how Clearspring treated either of us.” She raised a finger. “Check this out.” She skipped back to her car and heaved out the synthesizer. “Where do you want it?”
Timothy’s mouth dropped. “How in the world?”
“They just kept it at the school.” She hobbled it over to him. “I broke in two nights ago.”
He took it and gently placed it on the concrete step. “Wow. I have no idea how I can repay you.”
“Just don’t tell the police.”
He chuckled. “Listen, there’s something—”
“Wait. Me first.”She tapped her heels, then said. “Your dad keeps a photo of you on his desk.”
“He is not!” he stopped himself. “Sorry. He is not my dad.” He let out a heavy breath, which was not caused by his buck teeth. “And Liam will never be my brother. Not even half.”
Phrasing how she found out wasn’t a part of her strategy for meeting Timothy during such a stressful time.
“I’m sorry. I saw it when I broke into the school. Liam doesn’t realize how lucky he is to have you as a half-brother. I won’t say anything more about the subject.” She took a step closer. “If seeing me with him was hard, you can tell me.”
“It was excruciating.”
She had to hide a smile. That word, excruciating, would have sounded off and heavy before his surgery, but now he’s improved.
“I’m sorry, I was wrong.”
He closed his eyes and sighed. “Me too.”
What?
“I don’t think this is going to work out, Sarah. It’s too much for me to get over. I keep seeing him with you.”
She sighed. She knew it was going to come to this. With her palm to his cheek, she took in a good look. In just a few months, he’s changed, not just visually with his mouth and teeth slowly returning to their respective places. She stepped back, and with one foot in the car door, she said, “You saved my sister's life.”
He tilted his head.
“In case you wondered why I showed up on your doorstep.”
She cried while driving back home.
