“Why didn’t you tell me about the MCAT?”
The air in the room chills.
“Are you talking to your sister?” My mother presses her hand against my forehead. Her skin is cool and papery-thin. “She doesn’t have a fever.”
“You’re going to get yourself in trouble,” Ginny warns.
“Just tell me you weren’t planning a life without me,” I beg.
“Dan, get your keys,” my mom orders. “We need to take her to the hospital.” “I can’t,” Ginny whispers. I’m coming apart at the seams. I’ve tried so hard, for more than a year, to create the reality I need, but my effort hasn’t been enough. It’s still unraveling.
“She’s having some kind of breakdown,” my mom barks, and the seriousness of the word is what finally jolts me. I’ve slipped up and shown my parents my true self, and now they think there’s something wrong. Of course they do—they’ve always believed there was something wrong with me.
I spin to her. “Get out, Mom.”
“Listen to me. You need help.”
“Get out of my house.”
“Now, wait a minute—” my father tries.
“Now!” I leave them in Ginny’s room and head to the kitchen, flinging open the liquor cabinet and grabbing a handle of tequila, because beer won’t cut it. My parents sweep in after me.
“Hannah!” My mother is aghast at the bottle in my hand. “It’s two o’clock in the afternoon. This is not stable behavior.”
I blow past them to the front door and swing it open so hard it cracks against the drywall. “I never invited you here. And now I want you out.”
“You’re having a mental health crisis,” she insists, and the sudden gentleness of her tone, as if I’m a wild animal that must be treated cautiously, only further infuriates me. It’s her nurse voice, which was always nicer than her mom voice. “Put down the tequila and get in the car. We’re taking you to the hospital.”
“Out!” I yell. “And don’t come back!”
I don’t care if my neighbors are watching out of their windows, or that my father has tears in his eyes, or that my mother has gone pale.
“We’re trying to help you,” she insists.
“Out!” I scream again.
She shakes her head, protesting, but my father seizes my mother’s arm and drags her out.
I slam the door behind them and lock the dead bolt, then slide to the floor.
“Ginny,” I call into the house, gripping my bottle. “We need to talk.”
But Ginny doesn’t come.
Chapter 50
Theo
Saturday, November 9, 2024
Do my eyes deceive me?” With exaggerated astonishment, Bryan peers into his phone. “Is that Theo Ford at the beach relaxing—on aweekday?”
I extend my arm so Bryan can get the full view. “Welcome to Venice. The air smells like pot and there are too many Rollerbladers, but the ocean’s something else. Did you know Muscle Beach is real? You’d love it. Full of fitness freaks.”
Bryan shakes his head. How he’s able to move his neck in his ultra-fitted suit, with that tie throttling him, is anybody’s guess. “Somewhere
the devil is wearing a winter coat.”
