I can see the tiny house up ahead. Grandma steps out as he slows to a stop, hands on her hips. “What are we doing here?” I ask. He unbuckles his seat belt. “I didn’t want to just leave you alone after that, and your parents are assholes.” “Wow, tell me how you really feel, Ben.” He gives me a look like “you know it’s true,” and I almost laugh. I hate how delighted I am that he thinks my parents are assholes. I need a drink. At least we’ve come to the right place for that.
