Booktree.ngIt-Starts-with-Us-Colleen-Hoover

He brought most of his things with him. The clothes I bought him, some
of the books. They’re all stuffed so tight in a backpack that barely zips, and
he holds it in his lap with the hope that he has at least one parent that will
take him.
“Can we wait a little bit?” he asks.
“Sure.”
While he waits, he fidgets with everything. The air vents, his seat belt,
the music on his Bluetooth. Ten minutes pass while I patiently give him the
time to work up whatever courage he’s in need of that will help him open
the door.
I look at the house, taking my attention off Josh for a while. There’s an
old white Ford in the driveway, which is probably why Josh hasn’t worked
up the courage to walk across the street and knock on his door yet. It’s an
indicator that someone is probably home.
I haven’t tried to talk him out of this because I know what it’s like to
want to know your father. He’s going to live in this fantasy until he’s able to
confront his reality. As a kid, I had the highest hopes for family, too, but
after years of being disappointed, I realized that just because you’re born
into a group of people, that doesn’t make them your family.
“Should I just go knock?” Josh finally asks. He’s scared, and to be
honest, I’m not feeling the bravest right now, either. I went through a lot
with Tim. I’m not looking forward to seeing him again, and I am absolutely
dreading the potential outcome of this meeting.
I don’t think this is the best place for Josh, and I’m in no position to tell
him he can’t reconnect with his father. But my biggest fear is that he’s
going to choose to stay here. That Tim is going to be like my mother and
welcome Josh with open arms, simply because he knows it’s the one thing I
don’t want to happen.
“I can go with you if you want,” I say, even though it’s the last thing I
want to do. I’ll have to stand in front of that man and pretend I don’t want
to punch him for the sake of my little brother.
Josh doesn’t move for a while. I’m staring at my phone, attempting to
appear patient as he works up courage, but I want to throw the car in drive
and get him out of here.
I eventually feel Josh’s finger briefly graze an old scar on my arm, so I
look over at him. He’s staring at my arm, taking in the faded scars that