It Ends with Us

said, “It’s a little too late for that.”
I don’t know what he meant by that. I don’t know if his mom died, or if she gave
him up for adoption. We’ve been friends for a few weeks now and I still don’t really
know anything about him or why he doesn’t have a place to live. I would just ask
him, but I’m not sure if he really trusts me yet. He seems to have trust issues and I
guess I can’t blame him.

---

I’m worried about him. It started getting really cold this week and it’s supposed to
be even colder next week. If he doesn’t have electricity, that means he doesn’t have a
heater. I hope he at least has blankets. Do you know how awful I would feel if he
froze to death? Pretty freaking awful, Ellen.
I’ll find some blankets this week and give them to him.
—Lily
Dear Ellen,
It’s going to start snowing soon so I decided to harvest my garden today. I had
already pulled the radishes so I just wanted to put some mulch and compost down,
which wouldn’t have taken me long, but Atlas insisted on helping.
He asked me a lot of questions about gardening and I liked that he seemed
interested in my interests. I showed him how to lay the compost and mulch to cover
the ground so that the snow wouldn’t do too much damage. My garden is small
compared to most gardens. Maybe ten feet by twelve feet. But it’s all my dad will let
me use of the backyard.
Atlas covered the whole thing while I sat cross-legged in the grass and watched
him. I wasn’t being lazy, he just took over and wanted to do it so I let him. I can tell
he’s a hard worker. I wonder if maybe keeping himself busy takes his mind off of
things and that’s why he always wants to help me so much.
When he was finished, he walked over and dropped down next to me on the
grass.
“What made you want to grow things?” he asked.
I glanced over at him and he was sitting cross-legged, looking at me curiously. I
realized in that moment that he’s probably the best friend I’ve ever had, and we
barely know anything about each other. I have friends at school, but they’re never
allowed to come over to my house for obvious reasons. My mother is always worried
something might happen with my father and word might get out about his temper. I
also never really get to go to other people’s houses but I’m not sure why. Maybe my
father doesn’t want me staying over at friends’ houses because I might witness how a
good husband is supposed to treat his wife. He probably wants me to believe the way
he treats my mother is normal.
Atlas is the first friend I’ve ever had that’s ever been inside my house. He’s also
the first friend to know how much I like to garden. And now he’s the first friend to
ever ask me why I garden.
I reached down and pulled at a weed and started tearing it into little pieces while
I thought about his question.

---

“When I was ten, my mother got me a subscription to a website called Seeds
Anonymous,” I said. “Every month I would get an unmarked package of seeds in
the mail with instructions on how to plant them and care for them. I wouldn’t know
what I was growing until it came up out of the ground. Every day after school I’d
run straight to the backyard to see the progress. It gave me something to look forward
to. Growing things felt like a reward.”
I could feel Atlas staring at me when he asked, “A reward for what?”