He came to see me once a year until I was four; then he started flying me to Washington to visit him, instead.

He knows nothing about my life in Kentucky. He knows nothing about my mother’s addictions. He knows nothing about me, other than what I present to him, and that’s very little.

I’m extremely secretive about every aspect of my life. Secrets are my only form of currency.

I haven’t told my father about my scholarship for the same reason I never told my mother. I don’t want him to take pride in having a daughter who accomplished something. He doesn’t deserve to feel prideful of a child he puts a fraction of his effort into. He thinks a monthly check and intermittent phone calls to my work are enough to cover up the fact that he barely knows me.

He’s a two weeks out of the year Dad.

Because we’re so far apart on the map, it’s convenient for him to excuse his absence in my life. I’ve stayed with him fourteen days out of every summer since I was four, but in the last three years, I haven’t seen him at all.

Once I turned sixteen and joined the varsity team, volleyball became an even bigger part of my daily routine, so I stopped flying out to see him. I’ve been making excuses for three years now as to why I can’t make our visits.

He pretends to be bummed.

I pretend to be apologetic and busy.

Sorry, Brian, but a monthly child support check makes you responsible; it doesn’t make you a father.

There’s a sudden pounding on the door that startles me enough that I let out a yelp. I spin around and see the landlord through the living room window. Normally, I wouldn’t open up for Gary Shelby, but I’m not really in a position to ignore him. He knows I’m awake. I had to use his phone to call the police. Plus, I kind of need to figure out what to do about this couch. I don’t want it inside this house anymore.

When I open the door, Gary hands me an envelope as he pushes his way inside to get out of the rain.

“What’s this?” I ask him.

“Eviction notice.”

If this were anyone but Gary Shelby, I’d be surprised.

“She literally just died. You couldn’t wait a week?”

“She’s three months late on rent, and I don’t rent to teenagers. I’ll either need a new lease with someone over the age of twenty-one, or you’re gonna have to move out.”

“My father pays her for the rent. How are we three months behind?”

“Your mother said he stopped sending her checks a few months ago. Mr. Renaldo’s been looking for a bigger place, so I’m thinking I might let them switch to—”

“You’re an asshole, Gary Shelby.”

Gary shrugs. “It’s business. I’ve already sent her two notices. I’m sure you have somewhere else to go. You can’t just stay here by yourself, you’re only sixteen.”

“I turned nineteen last week.”

“Either way, you gotta be twenty-one. Terms of the lease. That and actually paying the rent.”

I’m sure there’s some sort of eviction process that has to go through the courts before he could actually force me out the door, but it’s pointless to fight when I don’t even want to live here anymore.

“How long do I have?”

“I’ll give you the week.”

The week? I have twenty-seven dollars to my name and absolutely nowhere to go.

“Can I have two months? I leave for college in August.”

“Maybe if you weren’t already three months behind. But that’s three months on top of two months and I can’t afford to give anybody almost half a year of free rent.”

“You’re such an asshole,” I mutter under my breath.

“We covered that already.”

I go through a mental list of potential friends that I could possibly stay with for the next two months, but Natalie left for college the day after we graduated to get a head start on summer classes. The rest of my friends either dropped out and are on their path to becoming the next Janean, or they have families I already know wouldn’t allow it.

There’s Becca, but she’s got that sleazy stepfather. I’d rather live with Gary than be near that man.

I’m down to my last resort.

“I need to use your phone.”

“It’s getting late,” he says. “You can use it tomorrow.”

I push past him and walk down the steps. “You should have waited until tomorrow to tell me I’m homeless, then, Gary!”

I walk in the rain, straight to his house. Gary is the only one left in this trailer park who still has a landline, and since most of us here are too poor to have cell phones, everybody uses Gary’s phone. At least they do if they’re caught up on their rent and aren’t trying to avoid him.

It’s been almost a year since the last time I called my father, but I have his number memorized. It’s the same cell number he’s had for eight years now. He calls me at work about once a month, but most of the time I avoid his call. There’s not much conversation that can be had with a man I barely know, so I’d rather not speak to him than spew lies like, “Mom’s good. School’s good. Work’s good. Life’s good.”

I swallow my thick, compacted pride and dial his number. I expect it to go to voicemail, but my father answers on the second ring.

“This is Brian Grim.” His voice is scratchy. I woke him up.

I clear my throat. “Um. Hey, Dad.”

“Beyah?” He sounds way more awake and worried now that he knows it’s me. “What’s wrong? Is everything okay?”

Janean died is on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t seem to get it out. He barely knew my mother. It’s been so long since he’s been to Kentucky, the last time he laid eyes on her, she was still kind of pretty and didn’t look like a shallow, stumbling skeleton.

“Yeah. I’m fine,” I say.

It’s too weird telling him she died over the phone. I’ll wait and tell him in person.

“Why are you calling so late? What’s wrong?”

“I work late shift and it’s hard for me to get to a phone.”

“That’s why I mailed you the cell phone.”

He mailed me a cell phone? I don’t even bother inquiring about that. I’m sure my mother sold it for some of the stuff that’s sitting frozen in her veins right now.

“Listen,” I say. “I know it’s been a while, but I was wondering if I could come visit before I start college classes.”

“Of course,” he says without hesitation. “Name the day and I’ll buy a plane ticket.”

I look over at Gary. He’s just a few feet away, staring at my breasts, so I turn away from him. “I was hoping I could come tomorrow.”

There’s a pause, and I hear movement on the other end, like he’s crawling out of bed. “Tomorrow? Are you sure you’re alright, Beyah?”

I let my head fall back and I close my eyes while I lie to him again. “Yeah. Janean just...I need a break. And I miss you.”

I don’t miss him. I barely know him. But whatever will get me a flight out of here the fastest.

I can hear typing coming from my father’s end, like he’s on a computer. He starts muttering times and names of airlines. “I can get you on a United flight to Houston tomorrow morning. You’d need to be at the airport in five hours. How many days do you want to stay?”