Her brown eyes appear tired, and despite the contraption over her nose and mouth, she smiles when she sees me.
I pony up to one side of the bed while Mom is on the other. “Hey, love bug.” I grasp her cold hand.
With her free one, she takes off the mask. “How’s football? Find any girlfriends yet?”
I grin. “My only girl is you.”
She rolls her eyes. “You need to have some fun, Adam.”
Mom smiles. “He’ll find a girl one day.”
I lock eyes with Mom. “I only need you two in my life.”
I date, but it’s rare because I don’t have time for girls. I’m also not like Carterwho fucksevery girl he meets. That’s not me. The last steady girl I had was back in high school, and even then, I hadn’t fallenin love. I liked Deb a lot, but she and I agreed our relationship would end when we went off to college, and I haven’t regretted the decision.
She wanted to be free to experience college life and date without any ties. I didn’t blame her, and I wanted the same too although football, family, and college have taken up all my time since I started last year.
Sam comes in, smiling at Phoebe. “Hey, girl. What’sshakin’?”
Phoebe giggles, and my heart blooms. I love hearing her laugh, and in this moment, I know I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure we have the money to support her treatments, medical equipment, and everything else we need to keep her healthy.
2
Emily
Holding my shoes in one hand, I slowly turn my key in the lock and tiptoe into our house in my bare feet. All the lights are out, as I’d expect at this hour of night, but I’ve no idea if my parents are sleeping or still out. It’s not unusual for Mom to work into the early hours of the morning, and Dad spends a lot of time socializing with his friends or watching game tapes during football season since he’s head coach of the Cypress Bulldogs.
So, I’m usually home alone most nights.
It’s the only way I can tolerate the fact I’m a college sophomore and still living with the rents.
Not that I had any choice.
When I left rehab, Mom made it very clear I was staying home so she could ensure I wouldn’t embarrass her again.
I offer up silent thanks to HIPAA for deeming it unlawful for the hospital to call my parents without my consent. Otherwise, there’d have been hell to pay.
After what happened today, I’m not taking any chances. I creep up the stairs very slowly, and very quietly, like a sneaky thief prowling the hallways while everyone sleeps blissfully unaware. Light spills out from under Dad’s bedroom, and my breath stutters in my chest when the floorboards creak as I move past his door.
“Is that you, princess?” he calls out, and I silently cuss. His door swings open before I’ve decided how to play it.
His brow puckers as he takes in the state of me.
And I know how bad it looks.
My strawberry-blonde hair hangs in limp, stringy waves down my back. My eyes are red-rimmed and bloodshot, and my pale skin is even paler than usual. My lips are cracked, and I smell like something dredged from the bottom of a cesspit. My clothes are creased, and dried vomit is visible on my top.
After the unexpected seizure, I puked all over myself, but there wasn’t time to do anything about it because some do-gooder had seen me convulsing on the pavement and called an ambulance.
I brace myself for a lecture, preparing a slew of believable lies, hating that I’m back here again.
“What happened?” Dad asks. The fine lines at the corners of his eyes and around his mouth appear more noticeable as worry transforms his features, but I’m not sure if he’s worried about me or his precious football team.
“I got food poisoning,” I lie. “From this place downtown I went to for lunch. Scarlett brought me back to her dorm, and I passed out. Didn’t realize it was late until I woke a while ago. Sorry if I worried you.”
He peers deep into my eyes, and I silently pray for forgiveness. It’s tempting to dismiss it, because what’s one more lie when I’ve told an ocean full of lies in my nineteen years on this planet. Except, I think Dad genuinely cares, and I hate disappointing him. Hate proving my mother right.
Which is why they can’t know I’m using again.
