At lunch, Sam's eyes searched the cafeteria, panicking when he couldn't spot her.
"Sammy," the familiar high voice called. "I'm right here, let's sit down so I can eat."
"Oh, God forbid we waste any of your beloved eating time," he said sarcastically, but was overwhelmingly relieved he had found his sister, otherwise he would have had to eat his lunch alone.
Siting across from her, he was suddenly amazed at how much she had grown into her looks. It seemed like it was an overnight change. Now she looked notably like him, if you ignored the fact that she looked like a girl. Similar to him, her dark chestnut hair was a fairly flattering contrast to her pale skin, and her eyes were a kind blue. She still had what their father had referred to as baby fat, but she would soon grow out of it, just as Sam had. Still, she was not quite a head-turner as her brother was. Her face was still too young to be striking.
"Mattie, slow down before you choke and die," he told her with arrogant big brother superiority. "Another death in the family might cause Dad to pack the rest of us into another U-Haul and take us to an even smaller hick town."
Mattie looked up at him, her teeth clamped greedily around her cheese and lettuce sandwich. A lettuce leaf fell to the table, and she averted her eyes back down. "Your attempt at being funny didn't amuse me."
"Sorry." He knew that he had just said the wrong thing. He did that a lot, but no one ever got used to the things he said sometimes even though usually he didn't mean them in a hurtful way. "How's your day going? Anyone as smart as you?"
"It's too early to tell," she said, a small smile brightening her face.
"Got any crushes yet?" he asked. Mattie was sixteen and had a bit of an obsession with the opposite sex.
"Nope, not yet," she said. "Looks like slim pickings so far."
"Is everyone nice to you?"
"As can be," she said, and when he gave her a questioning look, she just shrugged. "No one goes out of their way, but at least no one has like, pulled my hair or anything."
Sam grinned his trademark eye-capturing smile. "Oh yeah, you gotta keep an eye out for those damn hair-pullers."
"I always do," she assured him, taking a big bite of her sandwich, and then hacked.
"Ahahaha you choked," Sam laughed.
The rest of the day went smoothly, although there was nothing very enjoyable about it, and neither Sam nor Mattie were saddened when the final bell sounded.
The house on the corner of Asher Avenue was their home now, even though it was a little smaller than their old house, and it was in desperate need of a fresh paint job. Sam still could not shake off the feeling of loneliness and foreignness when he stepped through the door into the foyer, taking in the rich smell of dinner.
"Take off your shoes! If anyone tracks mud into this house, there will be serious hell to pay!" Mr. McRoyan yelled from the kitchen.
Rolling her eyes and hanging her jacket up in the closet, Mattie muttered, "No, we haven't learned how to take off our own shoes, what a preposterous idea." She had already slipped her black loafers off.
"You're home!" Will, the youngest of the McRoyan clan exclaimed. "Wanna hear about my day?"
Painting a large smile on her face, Mattie nodded enthusiastically and hoisted the six-year-old up in her arms and resting him on her hip. "I've been waiting all day to hear about it!" she told him.
Mattie was the only girl in the family, and had grown up in the midst of four brothers. Even though she was close to each of her brothers, she had a special soft spot for Will. She didn't love anything in the world the way she loved him.
"Did you know they let turtles in schools?"
"What does a turtle need to go to school for?" she asked him, walking down the hallway with him towards the kitchen so she could say hello to her father.
"Well I don't know but his name is Scooter and every weekend someone new gets to take him home with them to take care of but you have to feed him or else he'll die."
"I never would have guessed," she laughed, although she dreaded the day that Scooter came home with Will. Green things were not to be trusted as far as she was concerned. "Make any new friends?"
"Yep but there's this one girl named Cassie who stole my dump truck and made me mad and I don't like her, but not everyone's mean like her."
With Mattie and Will gone, Sam was alone again. He kicked his shoes off into the closet, suddenly feeling sick in his stomach with the sudden ache of grief and desolation. He wished so hard that he could just shake this feeling off and that he could go back to living instead of going through the motions like a zombie. How long had it been since the accident? Two weeks? He couldn't even remember. The days sort of bled together. Maybe if he could make some friends and get out a little more, he wouldn't miss his mom so much. He decided that tomorrow he would be more friendly. Those guys in Algebra didn't seem like a bad start. Not that he could remember their names anymore of course.
"Stop touching me!"
"I'm not touching you, I'm touching your shirt!"
The yelling descended down the stairs in the form of the other two brothers. Nicky had something smeared all over his hands and face, and was poking Simon repeatedly in the back. Simon, a boy who didn't seem to know how a smile worked, looked even gloomier than usual.
"Nicky, Nicky, Nicky, I think Simon is angry and I think you may have had a hand in his anger," Sam said, putting him into a headlock and holding him back as they passed, letting Simon pass. "What on God's green earth do you have all over you? I hope that's chocolate."
"It's not," Simon called.
"Okay, well then, I'm not going to ask anymore questions. Wash up before Dad kicks your ass all the way to Canada."
"What's a Canada?"
"It's where little eight-year-old boys like yourself get their asses kicked to. Beavers live there too. I'm sure you don't want to live in the land of beavers and sore-assed little boys, now do you?" Sam smiled down at him and mussed up his hair. When Nicky had slammed the door to the bathroom and he heard the tap turn on, Sam looked to Simon. "How did your first day go, Simon?"
"Okay," he said back.
"Is your teacher nice?"
"Yeah." Simon's enigmatic stance turned defensive, and he glared up at his oldest brother. "Yeah, the teachers are real nice and the kids are real nice and everyone in this town is real nice."
"Then why are you grumpy? Do you need a little nap?"
"Go screw a dog, Sam."
"My pleasure, Simon, I wish you luck making new friends. With that endearing attitude of yours everyone in sixth grade is gonna want to be your best friend, I can guarantee you that."
"Simon?" their dad called. "If you want to set the table, we can start eating, please."
"I'm not hungry," he snapped.
Mattie's out of place soprano voice came floating from the kitchen, tinged with concern. "Simon, you've gotta eat sometimes. You'll waste away if you don't start eating more."
"I said I'm not hungry, Mother." Content with the hurt silence that fell over everyone in the house, Simon climbed up the stairs again.
Sam entered the kitchen on weak, numb legs to see Will perched on Mattie's back, playing with her hair. "Mattie, sing the bumblebee song," he said, unscathed by Simon's cruelty. He was six, Sam reminded himself. He didn't understand. He still thought that their Mom was coming home.
"Wash up for dinner, Will," Sam told him.
"Giddyup?" Will's tiny baby hands were still in a death lock around Mattie's neck.
Sam pried him away from her and set him on the floor. "Giddyoff."
Mattie hadn't turned around or made any sound. She stood unmoving at the counter, looking like a fragile autumn leaf; about to fall. Sam went to touch her hair, touch her arm, just do something to make her feel better, but didn't. Mattie was a big girl, and she didn't need any help from her brother.
Dinner was silent and pointless. The food was barely touched. After about ten minutes, Mr. McRoyan, his voice gruff, said, "I'm going to the office. Mattie, you get the boys to bed on time." He left the table.
"Why does Dad go to his office so much?" Will asked.
"He doesn't even have an office, stupid," Nicky said. At that moment, Sam prayed that Nicky wasn't developing a chip on his shoulder like Simon. "He goes out to drink. He just calls it the office because he thinks we're dumb."
"He must drink a lot," Will observed. "I get tummy aches when I drink too much."
"Will…" Sam wanted to explain that their father wasn't out drinking apple juice, but stopped himself. Will might as well stay innocent while he was still able to. If he wanted to believe that mothers never died and that fathers drank apple juice in their make believe offices, Sam would let him. He looked at his sister, who had tears swimming in her eyes. Again, he said nothing, and he felt so stupid. He was supposed to be the oldest, but he just walked around the house like a ghost, not doing anything for anyone. He wouldn't even say anything to his little sister so she wouldn't cry.
"Mattie, your turn to wash the dishes," Nicky announced.
"I'll do it," Sam said. "Mattie has homework."
"No I don't--" she began to say, but a look from Sam silenced her.
Mattie cried in bed that night and so did Sam.