The Language of Silence Read Online Free

back and turns to go upstairs.
    I walk back over to the bag of chips and dump the contents out onto the crisp white sofa. I press my fist against the pile of waste and smash and smash until I’m sure it’s ruined.
    Tomorrow, I will have to behave. Tomorrow, we all will.

Chapter Five
     
    Ed :
     
    “Can I ask what you’re doing?”
    I slam the lid of the washer close d with a bang. “Thought it was pretty obvious,” I lamely joke without turning my head to look at my mother.
    Mom playfully slaps me in the back of the head. “Don’t be such a smart ass.”
    I rub my hand against her point of attack and turn to face her, leaning against the rumbling, angry machine. “I’m so sorry, Mother dearest. With your gracious permission, I was hoping to do a few loads of laundry. If that pleases the lady of the house,” I counter, mimicking the affectations of all the male stars of the classic movies Brett used to make me and Tristan watch. Against our will. Of course.
    Mom crosses her arms. “I can see that. I’m surprised you even know how to use one of those things.”
    “Now look who’s being the smart ass,” I laugh.
    Mom smiles. N o doubt happy not to find me slitting my wrists after Tristan’s funeral. We have barely seen each other since the event. She’s been busy working doubles, and I’ve been busy avoiding her.
    “You hungry?” she asks.
    “I’m a growing boy. Of course I’m hungry. I’m always hungry.”
    I follow Mom into the kitchen. She gets to work, popping a frozen pizza into the oven. “Any big reason for actually putting effort into what you look like?” Mom asks casually.
    Too casually. She knows something’s up. She would never understand why I was planning on working my way into the Wendall High elite. I barely understand it. My reasons for doing so change so often even I can barely keep them straight. Part of me wants to see what Tristan was so desperate to protect. Another part of me wants to pull them all in only to abandon them, show them they mean nothing. And a small part, the tiniest, darkest part, wants for one second to know what it would feel like to be one of them.
    And thanks to Tristan’s death, I can.
    Like Brett said, they’ll let me now.
    I shrug. “No reason in particular. Just figured it was about time I started taking care of my own stuff. Soon enough , I’ll join all those idiots who pay outlandish amounts of money to get this so-called higher education everyone is gushing about, and I won’t have you around to do my laundry for me.”
    Mom raises an eyebrow. “All the idiots who pay outlandish amounts of money? I hope you’re not including yourself in that category. You’ll be in the ‘I have to take out every loan I can and then pay outlandish amounts of money plus interest later’ group. Thanks to your dear old mother here.”
    My mother says it all with her usual wry sense of humor, but I can tell it’s a sore subject for her. She’s done the best she could for us, but she’ll always think it was never enough. No matter how many times I tell her otherwise.
    “Guess what’s coming on television tonight?” she asks, artfully changing the subject. A family trait I proudly carry on.
    “Some sort of reality show where the worst of American society gets paid mil lions of dollars to suck at life,” I scoff, pulling two cans of soda from the fridge.
    “Well, probably, and don’t act you don’t love those shows. But that’s not what I was referring to. The Outsiders ,” she says.
    I freeze. Literally. It’s as if my brain has forgotten how to demand that my body move. I should see a doctor. This isn’t normal. They probably make pills for this.
    “What’s wrong? You love that movie. I swear , you and Tristan...” Her voice trails off. She’s staring at me in that way I hate—that mothers-see-all way. I want to run up to my room, but damn if I can get my legs to work. “I’m sorry, Ed. I just thought maybe it would be nice if we sat down and