All the answer I get is a snort.
“That bad?” I turn to the water to stop myself from staring.
“Dad and Dale are drunk, spouting bigoted shit about everyone and everything. Marshall is trying to make them stop, but they talk over him like they always do. The only reason I’m even here is Mama. I don’t want her to be alone with all that shit.”
“Oh.” I don’t know what to say, I didn’t expect that much candor from someone I barely ever talked to—not even before the incident—someone who’s the sworn enemy of my family. Most people would have just spouted some shallow trivialities, but I find I like the honesty. His reasons for seeking solitude make my own troubles small and insignificant. If the worst thing about my holidays is a rambunctious family and a Granny with a crass sense of humor, I’m pretty lucky.
“Yeah, tell me about it,” he says. “What’s your story?”
“It’s stupid compared to yours.”
“I don’t mind. I could use stupid.”