Damage Done by Panitch Amanda

Author:Panitch, Amanda [Panitch, Amanda]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
ISBN: 9780553507492
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 2015-07-21T04:00:00+00:00

The house where my brother waited was past my old house. I debated whether I should look, or whether I should spend the time studying my increasingly fascinating shoes. Something rusty and brown crusted one of the toes; I sighed and rubbed it off, grinding it into the carpet of the car.

By the time we approached, I felt like I had no choice but to look. I was too curious; I wondered if reporters still thronged the street out front, if there were still eggs drying on the siding, if the new owners had repaired the front window through which some well-wisher had thrown a brick. Or if there were new owners at all. Maybe the city had just leveled the place altogether, pushing my entire childhood underground, as if my brother and I had never stood against the kitchen door and let our mother mark our heights on the wood. As if we’d never existed.

But it was still there, still squat and white, still impeccably manicured. The red slashes down the front of the garage (more well-wishes) had been painted over, and the shutters had been repainted a dark green. An unfamiliar car sat in the driveway. It was a good thing I wasn’t driving, because I probably would have smashed that intruder right through the garage door.

A million years ago, I had driven through that garage door. Like I said, I could drive; I just didn’t. Maybe the third time I’d ever driven, my mom had come to pick me up from band practice, and I’d driven us home. I’d coasted down the road, through a number of lights and intersections, and had so proudly pulled us right into the center of the driveway. Then I’d hit the brake, only instead of hitting the brake I’d hit the gas. Oops. There went all my bat mitzvah money.

“Everything okay?” Michael asked, snapping me back to the present.

I startled in my seat. “That was my old house,” I said. I blinked furiously. “It’s hard to see it.”

“It must be hard,” Michael said. He licked his lips. “Do you mind if I ask…why…”

“Why he did it?”

“Do you know?” He chewed on the inside of his cheek. “Of course, if you don’t want to talk about it, I completely—”

“No. It’s okay.” I sighed and rolled my shoulders. “He didn’t leave a note or anything. We never knew why. But I know. It was my fault.”

Electricity charged the air. “What? You didn’t—”

“I didn’t do it, obviously,” I said, and leaned forward, hunching into myself as if I were a snail and could curl inside my shell. “But it was my fault. I failed him. I was supposed to help him, and I clearly didn’t do it very well.”

“Julia. You can’t blame yourself.” Michael’s hand, warm and heavy, fell onto my shoulder. “This is in no way your—”

“He was in therapy for a while. Because of the things he did. We should have known.” My hands, resting on my knees, curled into fists. “I should have known.

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