When To Let Go Read Free Page A

constellation of stars and worth the attention.
    “Are you one of those kids who doesn't sleep?” He had had a roommate once who was always twitchy, only sleeping for a few hours a day.
    “Bad things happen at night,” the kid answered. “I like to stay alert.”
    “You don't get tired?”
    “I find time to sleep in the day.”
    Ryder understood. The worst kinds of evil lurked in the dark. He hated that he wasn't the only kid to know that.
    “The shed out back still has blankets and pillows in it from awhile back. The kid who made it didn't sleep at night either. Nobody will bother you there. Plus, it doesn't have a door and all the windows are bare so it's obvious if anything shady is going down. Trouble usually avoids it.”
    The boy didn't respond.
    That was fine with Ryder. It had been one of the longest conversations he'd ever had and it exhausted him. He figured he didn't have to talk again for the rest of the month.
    The next afternoon Ryder spotted the new kid going inside the shed and not coming out until dinner time. At the table he gave Ryder a half smile of appreciation that Ryder didn't return. Smiling always felt weird on him.
    Tonight was Ryder's turn to shower. He kept the shower curtain wide open when he was in the tub, mopping up the wet floor afterward with his towel.
    He had once lived at a place that only had a shower stall. It was physically impossible for Ryder to go in there, so he had had to use a hose out back to get clean. It wasn't so bad. If he ever got a place of his own he wanted an outdoor bathroom set on his own private property, tucked away from the world. It would just be him, and maybe a dog.
    When Ryder was finished and dried off, he twisted the door knob but it wouldn't budge. He tried several times, sweat forming on his dark hairline. He rammed into it with his shoulder hoping to bust it open. He heard the familiar laughter of the other kids and even a chuckle from the foster parents, who never played the pranks but didn’t stop them either.
    Right away his vision started to blur and the air felt trapped in his lungs. He screamed as best he could and pounded on the door, tears streaming down his face. The walls were getting too close. Ryder couldn’t take it. He was suffocating. He couldn’t breathe. He needed to get out of there before the darkness took over.
    Then the door opened, which had never happened. They usually waited until he passed out before opening it.
    The new kid stood there wide-eyed at a tear-streaked Ryder, who was still trying to catch his breath, panting as though he had just run a marathon. He wanted to tell the kid to quit staring and leave him alone, except he could hardly get in the air to do it. Instead, Ryder shoved past him to go outside. He stayed there half the night, getting lost in the stars.
     
    A few days later Ryder's hands shook as he went to take another shower, fearful they would do it again. To his relief, the door opened when he finished.
    He stood there in shock with what he found: the new kid was standing with his arms crossed, as though daring anyone to mess with him or what was behind him, which happened to be the door to the bathroom.
    “I don't need your protection,” Ryder grumbled in humiliation, hating the kid for thinking he was weak and needed a bodyguard.
    The new kid only shrugged and walked away.
    For Ryder's next shower the new kid was there again, guarding the door. Ryder didn't say anything, because truthfully, it was a relief to know he wouldn't get trapped in there anymore.
    After a few weeks of this, Ryder began inviting the new kid (who he had started calling by name, something he’d never bothered with in the past) to join him after school to mess around the town, eventually showing Parker how he would break into cars to steal stuff.
    If anybody messed with them, Parker fought them. For an eleven-year-old, the kid could fight. He went crazy on the dudes. It shocked Ryder the first time he saw it. Parker was