“Ah! I’m so proud of him! Hold on a second. I’m having a proud sister moment,” Callie gushes. “I didn’t think he had it in him. He’s doing so well—I want to send him a ‘you go’ meme.”
“Callie, you’re not helping.”
“Yeah, I know, but let me have this.”
“Fine. You get one minute.”
She giggles. “Okay. Moment over—turns out, it only took ten seconds.”
The sun is warm against the side of my face, the glare bouncing off metal benches.
“So yeah, he wants to come over today to watch Monroe and Lincoln and take Monroe to get her nails done for Nail Day.”
“I don’t see the problem,” she says. “He wouldn’t agree if his schedule didn’t allow for it.”
“This can’t be a long-term solution though. I have to figure out how to navigate all of this on my own. Your brother can’t be the savior. He has his own life.”
“Are you sure that’s it?” Callie asks. “Is that the real reason you don’t want his help? Could it be because you feel like you have to do it all by yourself?”
I squeeze my eyes shut. “Callie, don’t start with this shit. Please, I’m in no mood.”
“Sorry, it’s my duty as your best friend,” she says gently. “Only best friends can tell you the truth when you don’t want to hear it. I think you’re afraid to lean on him because you never want to lean on anybody.”
I tear a napkin into strips, my knee bouncing. A gust of wind carries the faint smell of cafeteria fries my way, and my stomach grumbles. I should’ve eaten from the cafeteria today.
“Callie, I don’t want to have this discussion.” I look around, making sure no one’s nearby. The couple that was closest to me is gone.
“Of course you don’t. No one wants to hear about their flaws—and I’m sure, at some point, you’ll tell me about mine.”
“Would you like me to start a list now?” I say, flicking the napkin scraps into my salad container.
“Oh, okay, is that how we’re playing it?” she teases. “I was just trying to tell you that you can depend on Hayes. I don’t think he’ll let you down.”
I squint against the sun, shading my eyes with my hand. “Let me down? He’s not anything to me. Why are you talking like that?”
“Because Leighton, come on. Let’s not play dumb. You know.”
“Oh my god.” I roll my eyes.
“You know what I mean. Your parents’ divorce. Their fighting over having you. That asshole boyfriend from your freshman year of college.”
I groan softly, tossing what’s left of my lunch into the bag. “Your list of flaws is going to be so long.”
“I’m not trying to call you out. I’m just saying that sometimes you get stuck in a pattern. You feel like you have to do everything yourself because you don’t want anyone to disappoint you. It’s a just wound. Everyone has them. I have them. People develop new ones every day.”
I pick up my water bottle and swirl the ice around. “You talk too much. That’s at the top of your list.”
She laughs, and the sound is muffled as though she’s flopped back on her hotel bed. “In the end, I think he’s someone you can trust. That’s all.”
“Okay, well, you’re related to him, so of course you think that. But I don’t need to trust him because he is not my savior, and I’ll be fine without him.”
Will I? What would I have done if he hadn’t offered to help tonight?
An ambulance blares nearby. I glance at the hospital doors, picturing how I’ll be back in there soon, pretending I’m the cool and calm nurse my patients can depend on.
She says all this, assuming her brother and I are platonic. That we’d never cross the line she’s drawn.
“Just let him do it,” she says. “You’ll survive even if he stops helping, but you might as well take the help while you can. Get through this guardianship thing—you should know about that soon, right?”
