It Could Be More | ✔

08. Hobo Santa

Images of Chucky filled the screen of my phone as I scrolled through Pinterest. It was how I came up with new ideas for nails. I'd search up something random, like a color or an animal or food, and scroll until something caught my eye. It was a challenge trying to turn an image into a nail design, but that was the fun part.

I'd never actually seen the Chucky movies, because my fear of dolls ranked just below old people, but I thought it'd be a cute to turn his aesthetic into a set of nails. Even if that meant having nightmares for the rest of my life.

I completely zoned out, mumbling along to AJR as I tried to replicate blood splatters on a nail, when the garage door banged opened. Gray walked in, a bag of laundry slung over his shoulder like a hobo Santa. The deal I made with Corey nagged at the back of my skull. I had no idea how to broach the subject.

Gray dumped half the bag of laundry into the washer before throwing in a couple of detergent pods. Mom always told him the pods went first. I'd tried it both ways and didn't see a difference.

Before he walked back out of the garage, I asked, "Are you depressed?"

He halted, throwing me a look. "Why would you ask me that?"

"You actually brought me the cookies. Something must be wrong."

The hardness on his face melted away. "The cookies were hella expensive, by the way."

"Worth every penny." I smiled. Then, after a beat, "So...you're okay?"

He took a step closer to my work space, arms crossed. "Where is this coming from?"

Something told me telling him Corey put me up to it would be a bad idea. Instead, I said, "You just seem low energy."

"I'm tired."

"Isn't that a sign of depression?"

He gave me a hard stare. "It's also the sign of an average college student."

I didn't miss how defensive he'd gotten, his words clipped. But I was only a high school senior, not a licensed therapist. I didn't know what I was talking about. So, I nodded, said "okay", and went back to my nails.

• • •

Mom wanted one last family dinner before Gray went back to school, just the three of us. We went out to one of Gray's favorite Italian restaurants where we ate our weight in bread sticks and pasta. Mostly bread sticks.

Gray seemed more like his usual self with Mom and me. His smile was more genuine than last night. I'd have to tell Corey that. It was possible that my brother's mood last night was because of Mom springing Hudson on us. And he could actually be tired.

After dinner, we got milkshakes at a little ice cream shop called The Purple Cow. The inside glittered in green and purple jewel tones with gold accents. It looked way fancier than the name suggested.

We sat at a booth with purple vinyl seats. Mom was being overly sentimental because Gray had to drive back to school in a couple of hours. Gray let her hug him in public. If Corey hadn't gotten into my head, I wouldn't have thought much about it, but now I wondered if Gray would stay in West Valley longer if he could.

The only thing to distract Mom from loving on her son was a video call from Hudson. Gray urged her to take the call, even though she was ready to tell Hudson she was busy. Even my mom got the teenager-in-love dream that I wanted. She excused herself, stepping outside.

I swirled the remains of my strawberry milkshake, suffocating in the awkward silence. After that train wreck of a talk earlier, I didn't have anything to say to him. Neither did he, apparently.