“I don’t know who that is,” I mutter through gritted teeth.
She slams her wooden spoon down, looking back at me and putting her hand on her hip. My tone was even and unemotional, but somehow, I’ve pissed her off.
“I don’t ask for much, Gray. Do you want to die alone?”
“I’m thirty-five, Mom.”
“I’ll tell her the fifteenth, then. Was that so hard? Sometimes it’s like pulling teeth with you.”
I finish the rest of my brownie, glancing behind me at a movement on the landing, and notice my sister Carrie creeping upstairs. I keep watching, checking which room she walks into before I turn back to my mom.
“Do you need help with anything?”
“No, no, leave it all to me, as usual,” she gripes.
“I’m here, Mom, and I’m asking if I can help.”
She waves me off, huffing out an irritated breath, and I follow Carrie, feeling as if I’m eight years old again.
I creep upstairs, hoping my mom doesn’t come out and see me moving like a panther over the carpet, and tiptoe into the room Carrie disappeared into.
She’s sitting on the window seat, and my chest aches when I see the drying tears on her cheeks.
“Oh fuck, what happened?” I whisper, closing the door and going to sit beside her. She tucks her feet up beneath her, looking so young it makes my heart hurt.
“Ugh, you know…” she murmurs. “Just Mom.”
“What did she say?”
Carrie tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. It’s dark brown and pretty short, and she usually wears elaborate earrings. Two books dangle from her ears with an orange dragon coiled around each one. Her sweater is baggy and hangs off her in unflattering folds. She’s had a problem with her weight since she was little, and my mother almost always comments on it.
“She’s just so cruel all the time,” Carrie says, her voice low and angry. “It’s like she’s complimenting you, but then she comes out with this horrible shit that makes me feel about three inches tall.”
“What did she say?”
“Oh, the usual. That I’m looking ‘trimmer’ than I was at Christmas, and she’s proud of me for committing to being healthy. It’s such an obvious reference to me putting on weight over the holidays.”
“Try to ignore her,” I say, pulling her into a hug.
Carrie sniffs, wiping at her nose. “It just makes me not want to spend time here. Every time I do, I leave feeling like crap.”
I stay silent, trying to decide what to say. I’ve learned not to tell Carrie she’s beautiful. It used to be my default: just deny whatever she felt about herself, tell her she was thin when she wasn’t, tell her she looked pretty when she said she felt ugly. It didn’t help. I’ve learned to stay quiet and just offer silentsupport. It’s something Lola taught me after I put my foot in my mouth one too many times.
“I’m sorry she said that, Care. It sucks.”
“Has she told you about your date with Sarah yet? She’s been talking about it since breakfast. I wanted to scream at her at one point. You know she’s saying that you two are ‘meant to be’ already? You haven’t even met her.”
“Why have you been here since breakfast?” I ask.
“Um… I’m kind of living here right now. Temporarily.”
“What? Why didn’t you say? Care, you can’t live with Mom; she’ll drive you nuts. Come stay with me!”
She shakes her head. “You’ve already made way too many sacrifices for me, Gray. I have to save up and get out of this situation myself. It’s important. I appreciate the offer, but I have to fix this my way.”
“Did your roommate kick you out or something?” I ask, desperately trying to remember her last living situation. I vaguely remember she was rooming with another girl, but I don't remember her name.
“No. We… uh, had a falling out, and now it’s super awkward.” She sighs heavily, scratching her fingers through her hair. “I kind of kissed her, and she wasn’t into it.”
