House at the End of the Street by Lily Blake, David Loucka, Jonathan Mostow Page B

breath. “You don’t have to—”
    “It’s okay,” Ryan said, barely looking at her. “I wanted to come.” He clasped a box of chocolate chip cookies in his hands. They were in a plastic container, and it looked like a few were missing, but still…he had tried.
    Elissa spun around, narrowing her eyes at her mother. She’d never been so furious. What was this? Some sort of test? Since when did Sarah care whom she hung out with? Where had she been in Chicago, when Elissa and her friends hid in an abandoned bowling alley, doing whatever they felt like? Who was she to suddenly care?
    “Come sit down, Ryan,” Sarah said, taking another large swig of her wine. She pulled out a chair and gestured for him to settle in. Elissa eyed the table, where a large casserole dish sat. It looked like Sarah had dumped French onion soup and corn chips together and stuck it in the oven. Cooking had never been her strong suit.
    Before Elissa could say anything else, Ryan had taken his seat, gesturing for her to join him. She watched Sarahfiddle with the casserole dish, plopping spoonfuls of unidentifiable food down on their plates. “Looks good,” Ryan lied. He stuck a forkful in his mouth and swallowed.
    In any other situation, Elissa would’ve laughed, but she was too angry at her mother right now. She had gone over to Ryan’s house and asked him to come to dinner…to get to know him better? Since when did she care to get to know any of Elissa’s friends? “So now that he’s here,” Elissa started, an edge in her voice, “do you want to pepper him with questions? Give him the third degree? What?”
    Sarah sat back, glaring at her. “I didn’t invite Ryan over to give him the third degree,” she said. “He’s our neighbor. And he’s been giving you rides, and you said you were over there yesterday. I just thought I should meet him, that’s all.”
    Elissa glanced sideways at Ryan, but he didn’t say anything. “Go on,” she said, watching her mother. “You know you want to ask him about his parents, his house, his aunt.”
    “She can,” Ryan said slowly. He looked up. “What do you want to know? I lived with my aunt Iris, but she had a stroke when I was eighteen. After she was hospitalized, I came back here. Back home.”
    Sarah let out a long breath, relaxing back into her seat. Elissa could see she was pleased—this was what she had wanted. Information. “How do you live?” Sarah asked. “Big house like that must have bills.”
    “Mom, I don’t believe you’re doing this,” Elissa spat out.“You’re being incredibly rude.” She moved to stand, but Ryan set his hand down on her arm. It was the first time they’d touched, with the exception of the few seconds she’d held his hand, leading him out of Carrie Anne’s bedroom.
    “It’s okay, really,” he said. His eyes met Sarah’s gaze. “My parents inherited the house and a little money. When they died, I got it all. It’s not a lot, but it’s enough. I go part-time to Bridgeport Community. It’s not the greatest school in the world, but I’m getting my credits together to apply for premed at a university. I want be a psychiatrist.”
    For the first time since Ryan walked in, Sarah smiled. Apparently that answer pleased her. “That’s very cool,” she said.
    “My mom went to a psychiatrist for a long time after she broke up with my dad.” Elissa couldn’t help herself. She felt the words coming out of her mouth before she could stop them. She just wanted to level the playing field. It wasn’t fair for Sarah to sit there, grilling Ryan about his family, his income, his life goals, and not reveal anything about herself in return.
    Sarah stared at her, as if she couldn’t believe Elissa had just spoken those words out loud. The table fell into an uncomfortable silence. They pushed the food around their plates, and Sarah occasionally asked another question—about Ryan’s schooling, or how he liked living in Woodshire. (He didn’t.)