BooksBarbecue
Back The Lucky Ones Save as PDF
Chapters (62)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Epigraph
  4. Chapter One
  5. Chapter Two
  6. Chapter Three
  7. Chapter Four
  8. Chapter Five
  9. Chapter Six
  10. Chapter Seven
  11. Chapter Eight
  12. Chapter Nine
  13. Chapter Ten
  14. Chapter Eleven
  15. Chapter Twelve
  16. Chapter Thirteen
  17. Chapter Fourteen
  18. Chapter Fifteen
  19. Chapter Sixteen
  20. Chapter Seventeen
  21. Chapter Eighteen
  22. Chapter Nineteen
  23. Chapter Twenty
  24. Chapter Twenty-one
  25. Chapter Twenty-two
  26. Chapter Twenty-three
  27. Chapter Twenty-four
  28. Chapter Twenty-five
  29. Chapter Twenty-six
  30. Chapter Twenty-seven
  31. Chapter Twenty-eight
  32. Chapter Twenty-nine
  33. Chapter Thirty
  34. Chapter Thirty-one
  35. Chapter Thirty-two
  36. Chapter Thirty-three
  37. Chapter Thirty-four
  38. Chapter Thirty-five
  39. Chapter Thirty-six
  40. Chapter Thirty-seven
  41. Chapter Thirty-eight
  42. Chapter Thirty-nine
  43. Chapter Forty
  44. Chapter Forty-one
  45. Chapter Forty-two
  46. The Letter
  47. Chapter Forty-three
  48. Chapter Forty-four
  49. Chapter Forty-five
  50. Chapter Forty-six
  51. Chapter Forty-seven
  52. Chapter Forty-eight
  53. Chapter Forty-nine
  54. Chapter Fifty
  55. Chapter Fifty-one
  56. Chapter Fifty-two
  57. Chapter Fifty-three
  58. Author’s Note
  59. Resources
  60. Acknowledgments
  61. About the Author
  62. What’s next onyour reading list?

He nods, and for once, he follows me as I walk out the front door.

Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

I’m sitting in the kitchen of my house waiting for Lucy to pick me up to go to this dumb band audition, when it happens. I hear the garage door grind open and the hum of a car engine, which shuts off a few moments later. I glance over at the clock on the microwave: it’s only five p.m. Way too early for my mom to get home. But unless a stranger has obtained the remote to our garage, it has to be her…or my dad. My stomach twists into a knot and I push away the bagel I just toasted. I’m tempted to bolt back up to my room, but Lucy will be here any minute, so instead I bury my face in my phone and pretend to be fascinated by my Instagram feed.

The door from the garage to the kitchen opens, and I hear loud voices, arguing. I’m so surprised to hear two voices instead of one that I look up, and there they are: both of my parents, together. I have no idea what in the fuck is happening; I haven’t seen them together in approximately six months. My mom comes home still, but late, usually after I’ve gone to bed. We don’t really talk. My dad…I barely see him. Six months ago, my parents sat me down and told me that the latest show my dad was producing was filming out in Palm Desert and he was going to need to spend some time out there for a while. A while…that’s dragged on, and on, and on.

And on.

I don’t know if he’s still living there. And I really don’t care. All I know is he doesn’t come home.

I can’t make out most of what they’re saying; I just catch some angry words from my dad: “We need to talk about potentially moving forward with a suit. I need you to get on board, Joan, before…”

I drop my head back down. I try to make myself as small as possible, hope that maybe a hole will open up and suck me into the pits of hell.

Hell couldn’t possibly be worse than what’s happening in this kitchen.

Their voices quiet; they must see me. I hold my breath, praying that they’ll walk right by, act like I don’t exist like they normally do. My skin prickles. I can’t help myself; I look up again just in time to see my dad’s back, walking away. My mom’s standing by the stove, leaning against the counter, shoulders hunched. Even from across the room, I can see that her eyes are bloodshot and swollen. I swear that over the past year she’s shrunk.