The Boy and Girl Who Broke the World by Amy Reed

Author:Amy Reed
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon Pulse

LYDIA

I HAVEN’T SEEN A WHOLE lot of the world, but I’m pretty sure Larry’s bar is high on the list of most depressing places to be on Christmas. I’m sitting in my usual spot, the little girl sitting silently on the stool next to me, with the usual suspects at the other end of the bar, and Old Pete in his booth. It’s disturbing how much time I spend with these guys but know close to nothing about them. Do they have families they could be with today? Are they choosing this place over somewhere else? Or is this their only choice?

I keep trying to tell myself this is any old day, that Christmas is just a marketing conspiracy in the guise of a religious tradition I don’t even believe in, so it’s not worthy of acknowledging, let alone celebrating. But I still wish Billy were here. He takes things like holidays seriously. He wants them to be special. He shouldn’t be with those people in his house, even if they are technically family.

That movie that always plays all Christmas day is on the TV. It’s the kind of comedy that, if only a few things were changed, would easily become a tragedy. Those are my favorite kinds of comedies, the ones just a razor-thin line from something else entirely, the ones that make you laugh about things that would normally make you cry. This one could easily be a tearjerker about a terrorized kid in an abusive family, with a bully of a father and a beaten-down mother. But instead you’re supposed to laugh at all the yelling and shaming; it’s supposed to be funny instead of cruel.

Larry’s bad dye job is growing out, showing his gray roots. Right now, I can’t really think of anything more terrible about him than his hair. That, and his dream catcher tattoo. And his Unicorns vs. Dragons obsession. He’s embarrassing and clueless, but those things are superficial. Compared to the dad in this movie, Larry’s an angel. I can’t remember a time he’s even raised his voice to me. So why have I always hated him so much?

Something contracts in the pit of my stomach. I feel off. It’s like somebody grabbed my brain and shook it up real hard, and now all the memories and feelings that had been safely contained in there are floating around, bumping into things, making a mess. I can’t stop thinking. The thoughts keep coming and coming, like a stampede, carrying garbage bags stuffed with feelings, and the bags keep breaking, and the feelings get thrown all over the place, and the cleanup crew I’ve always relied on to quickly mop up all these kinds of messes appears to be on strike.

I remember Larry when his hair was still actually the color he keeps trying to dye it. I had forgotten this version of Larry, but now here he is, bumping around in my brain with all the other stuff that got dislodged. There he is

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