how weak I really am. “I don’t want anything from you other than for you to leave—again.” I turn toward Mikey, who has his eyes closed. He’s probably just faking it to avoid being yanked into our heated discussion, but I use it to my advantage. “Mikey needs his rest.”
My mother collects her black Prada purse from the bedside stand and scoops the hands of the twins into hers. Kinsey and Jefferson rise to their feet behind her. “Please call me if anything changes.”
“You mean if he dies?” I see Mikey’s eyelids flutter and think a ghost of a smile might have even crossed over his lips.
“Good God, Margaret! I would hope you would contact me before it got to that.”
I shrug my shoulders to my ears. “I’ll be in touch.”
She nods and her perfectly highlighted hair doesn’t move. I’m sure the can’s worth of hairspray coating it is the reason for that. On the outside, everything about her is perfect. “Get well soon, Michael.”
When the door latches shut behind her and her trail of little ducklings, both Mikey and I explode in an unreasonably loud roar of laughter. Surely she can hear it down the hall, but I honestly don’t care. In fact, the thought just makes me laugh louder.
“Get well soon?” Water fills Mikey’s eyes, and he’s laughing so hard that the sound no longer comes out with the act. “Seriously? Does she think I have a head cold?”
“I know!” I snort, sliding on the bed next to him. “Call me if he dies.”
We both laugh until our sides ache, to the point where we’re crying, not remembering what even triggered the tumultuous laugh-fest. I pull myself closer to him and lower my head onto his chest. Mikey pats my back affectionately, and even though he still smells like vomit, he feels like home.
“I love you, Sis. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Though the laughter-induced tears still brim in my eyes, with his statement they immediately transform from joyful to pained, even though it’s the same collection of tears.
“I love you, too, Mikey. I don’t know what I’d do without you, either.” I grip him tightly around his waist. “Don’t ever give me the chance to find out.”
***
“I think someone’s here to see you, Mikey!” I shout over the hum of the dryer as the rumble of a motorcycle cuts off in the driveway. Two more loads of laundry and I’ll be all caught up on both Mikey’s and Dad’s. I finished my small load this morning and folded it back into my suitcase so I can head back to Davis this afternoon. Though the semester is nearly done, I’m itching to fall back into my college routine. Professor Long said if I’m able to complete the research paper for his Anthro 101 course, he’d give me a passing grade, despite my extended absence. My other professors weren’t so generous, and I had to drop the rest of the courses two months ago when the accident happened. But I’m grateful to at least have one college course on my records. It makes this past quarter—and my life in general lately—seem like less of a monumental waste.
Mikey mutes the football game blasting throughout the house, and I hear the front door click open. After a murmured exchange, Mikey bellows, “It’s for you, Mags!” down the length of the hall.
Cora texted ten minutes ago saying she’ll head over in three hours, so I can’t imagine she switched plans without updating me. She texts me when she changes her nail polish color. If she decided to show up earlier, I’m sure I’d get a text detailing her change in agenda.
I slam the lid to the washer and pull at my ponytail to tighten the rubber band. I probably should have streaked some makeup across my face this morning, but I never have company. Brian was the only one to ever show up unannounced, and he’s seen me in a lot less flattering instances than today’s.
Like when we decided to test out the college scene last spring and snuck into a party at the frat house Brian hoped to rush in the fall. I’d never had anything to drink before that night and haven’t had the stomach for anything since. I didn’t know that the apparent goal was to get the underclass girls completely wasted. And since I wasn’t even an underclassman, more like an under-underclassmen, I think that rule was doubled for me. At least the two-day headache and