“I’m sensing there’s a but in there,” I said, waiting.
“Butyou,” she continued gently, “you run from trouble every chance you get.”
She wasn’t wrong. I did run from trouble. What she didn’t consider was that I also knew it. I knew the aftermath. The kind that leaves you motionless on the back of an ambulance, lightsflashing overhead. Austin didn’t feel like that kind of trouble. He felt like the kind that did the opposite. The kind that raised your pulse until you felt like you might lift right off the ground.
“I’m just saying,” Cherry went on, pulling me back, “keep your guard up. I’m not saying don’t have fun.”
“Have you ever said the wordsdon’t have fun?” I snorted. Fun was practically her life’s mission.
“But be careful,” she finished. “Alright. I have to go face the Dragon.” She sighed, using the nickname she’d given her mother years ago. Cherry’s mom was nothing like mine. She’d given up trying to control Cherry around the time Cherry pierced her tongue, but that didn’t mean she’d softened about it.
I pulled Cherry into a hug, trying to pour every ounce of warmth and reassurance I had into her. “I’ll call you tomorrow,” I murmured as I let her go.
She smiled one last time before stepping out of the car. I waited until she was safely inside before pulling away, my attention settling on the dark suburban streets ahead. I tried not to dwell on her words. I knew if I picked at them long enough, doubt would start to bloom. I was usually full of doubt. For some reason, though, I didn’t want any of it to touch Austin.
Now that I understood why he’d been at the drug house last weekend, I struggled to find a reason to stay hesitant about him. I struggled to deny the way he made me feel. The way my stomach fluttered when his hand rested at my back. The way shyness rushed through me when he called me beautiful. I struggled to ignore the chemistry that felt obvious, at least to both of us. And maybe Cherry was right. Maybe Austin was trouble. But maybe I was finally aching for a little trouble of my own.
The lights were on in my house when it came into view, catching me off guard. It was nearly midnight, and my parents were usually early sleepers. I parked in my usual spot, against the crumbling curb beneath the large tree in our front yard. I tried not to let my eyes linger on the peeling green paint or the sagging gutters. It wasn’t embarrassment that made me look away. It was the knowledge of what that disrepair represented. Evidence of how tight money had become. There’s a particular heaviness that comes with knowing the people you owe everything to are struggling financially, and knowing there’s very little you can do to fix it.
Curiosity followed me up the path to the front door. I could hear my parents’ voices through the thin walls, and I moved quietly, slipping my key into the lock, hoping not to disturb them. It didn’t matter. The door swung open and I was met with the sight of my mother crying. My dad crouched beside her, murmuring reassurances and rubbing slow circles on her back. Both of them looked up at once, my mom instinctively trying to wipe the tears from her face.
“Mom?” I said, closing the door behind me. I didn’t even stop to take my shoes off as I crossed the room, my chest tightening at the sight of her. “What’s going on?”
“Oh,” she sniffed, forcing a weak smile. “Blair, it’s nothing. We must’ve lost track of time. I didn’t realize you’d be home so soon.”
“What’s wrong?” I asked again. When she didn’t answer, I looked to my dad. His expression was grave, the lines in his forehead deeper than usual.
“Blair,” he began slowly, his voice hesitant. His eyes flicked between my mom and me, like he was waiting for a signal. “We didn’t want to worry you about—”
“It’s Holden, isn’t it?” I interrupted. The familiarity of the moment made my stomach sink. “What happened?”
“Oh, Blair,” my mom whispered. “You shouldn’t have to carry this. I wish you didn’t have to go through it.”
“But I am going through it,” I said gently, taking her hand. She looked at me for a long moment, like she was gauging how much truth I could bear. Then her lip trembled.
“Your brother,” she started, her voice breaking. Tears spilled over as she tried to continue.
“He’s having some rough withdrawal symptoms,” my dad finished quietly. I knew what that meant. I’d lived through it enough times.
“So he’s been using longer than we thought,” I said, sinking down beside my mom, her hand still tight in mine. “Is he okay?”
“We think so,” my dad nodded. “They’re running tests at a hospital in Idaho.”
The word Idaho landed heavy in my stomach. “So you’re going there?” My mom’s quiet sigh told me the answer wasn’t simple.
“Blair,” my dad sighed, brushing my mom’s hair back gently. “Like your mother said, we don’t want to burden you. We don’t want you worrying. Money’s tight. We can’t afford to go.” Silence filled the room. His words weighed on me in the exact way he’d hoped they wouldn’t.
“I know it’s hard,” I said softly, forcing my voice to stay steady. “I know being away from Holden feels unbearable right now. But it’s going to be okay. We’re going to get through this. All of us. As a family.” My mom’s breathing slowed as I spoke. “There will be a time when we understand why this happened,” I continued. “Why the universe gave us these challenges. We’ll look back andremember how hard this was, and we’ll know we’re stronger because of it. Everything will be okay.”
I took a breath. My mom followed. We breathed together. I was saying the same words she’d said to me a thousand times before. That’s the thing about positivity. There are moments when it breaks, when you can’t see the path in front of you. And that’s okay. Sometimes you just need to be reminded of it.
“Trust me, Mom,” I said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Everything’s going to be okay.” I wasn’t lying. I’d always believed it. Because if something isn’t okay, then it isn’t the end. “This isn’t the end of Holden’s struggles,” I added, tightening my grip on her hand. “And that’s okay. It just means he’s not ready yet.”
I meant it. For Holden, for her, and maybe for myself too. Some things don’t resolve neatly. They don’t end, they just wait. They linger in the background, unfinished, asking for patience instead of answers. And eventually, whether you’re ready or not, sleep finds you anyway, pulling the day closed before you can decide what it all means.
The next day, I was in the middle of a staring contest. A moment frozen in time. Her, trying to read the words I wasn’t saying. Me, hoping she wouldn’t find them. I kept my eyes on her, on the small reading glasses perched at the end of her nose. I wasn’t uncomfortable in her presence. Not even close. It was the opposite. There was an easy familiarity in the black chaise beneath me, the soft gray walls of her office, the purple butterflies scattered across her blouse.
Lucy was my greatest confidant, after all, aside from Cherry. From the moment I met her, I’d trusted her completely. And while Cherry knew everything there was to know about me,it was entirely possible that Lucy knew even more. There’s something about talking to a therapist, especially Lucy, that makes secrets feel less like secrets. Except today.
