Keep You From Harm Read Free Page A

it comes to school. This is my way out. This is how I know I won’t follow in my mother’s footsteps. This is my constant. Every time my mother disappeared, and I was placed somewhere new, I diverted my attention to getting all my academic ducks in a row. Right now, I need this lifeline more than ever.
    “Okay,” he agrees. “We’ll get to work on that next. I don’t know much about the high school, but our school district has a good reputation.”
    I offer him a tight, but thankful smile.
    “Do you already know what you want to study in college?
    I answer immediately. “I want to take pre-med courses.”
    This seems to intrigue him. “You want to be a doctor?”
    I shake my head at the thought of that. I could never spend so much time near sick people. “No. I want to do research. Help cure diseases.”
    His eyes are intent on mine. It looks as though he wants to say something more, but he takes a deep breath and turns away. “Let’s see if that paperwork is ready,” he says, moving toward the door.
    As I watch the tall form of the man who is my brother leave the room, I can no longer hold back the avalanche of apprehension I’m feeling. I’m used to moving. I’m used to strangers taking me in. But my brother is a different kind of stranger. He’s already eliciting unwelcome emotions that I hardly recognize. I can only imagine what it would be like to have him as a real older brother, one who watches out for me and feels like family. I wonder if that’s what he wants. If so, would I welcome it or would I inevitably push him away? If he doesn’t want that, would I be disappointed? I’m surprised when I realize the answer to that may be yes.
    I lower myself onto the same couch he just vacated and rub my hands over my face, trying to clear my head. I’ll be eighteen in a few months. I won’t be in his house long enough for any bonds to form and that’s probably for the best. Emotions are dangerous. So are expectations.

I ’ve never flown on an airplane before. It’s an odd feeling knowing that we’re winging our way across the country, putting thousands of miles between me and San Diego. I’ve never even left the state and within minutes of taking off, California is behind us along with my mother and the chaotic life I’ve lived up to now.
    Kyle seems okay to me. It’s hard to get a read on him. I’ve learned some facts about him while we’ve been traveling. He’s an auditor for the state of New York, which is like an accountant, he tells me. His wife stays at home with their daughter. He volunteered to me that he had a happy childhood. He was raised by his father and his father’s girlfriend. They never married because his father couldn’t find my mother to obtain a divorce from her. I knew my mother wasn’t married to my own father, but she used his last name. I thought it was because she wanted to have the same last name as me. Maybe she was using it to hide the whole time.
    It’s dark when Kyle pulls into the driveway of a quaint, single story white house. From what I can see, it’s in the middle of a neighborhood crowded with other similar homes.
    “Are you sure your wife is okay with this?” I ask Kyle for the third or fourth time.
    “Chloe is fine with it. She’s looking forward to meeting you.”
    When I step out of the car, I feel an unfamiliar chill in the air. It’s early spring, but New York obviously hasn’t gotten the memo. Kyle opens the trunk, and I pull out my duffle bag. He’s withdrawing his own bag when I hear voices. I look over at the house next door. Three guys are standing in front of a dark colored truck parked in the driveway. They all look tall and athletic. Two of them are horsing around as one pushes the other and then barks out a laugh.
    “Those boys are your age. Myles lives there. He’s a senior, too.” Kyle explains. When he closes the trunk, the one who has been standing silently, apart from the other two, turns toward us. He’s taller and