“Because you’re not being careful enough,” she says, her voice rising.
“Whocares? What does it matter? I’m not going to spend my last several months tiptoeing around pretending death isn’t sitting in the corner counting down the seconds.”
“Maybe it wouldn’t be onlymonthsif you slowed down a bit,” she snaps.
Her phone pings with another text. It’s face up on the table next to us, and I read it. It’s Cam, saying he understands if she wants to cancel their trip.
“What is this?” I ask, grabbing her phone and waving it in her face like it’s proof of some great treason.
“Nothing. Butt out of my life.” Abbi reaches for it, but I step back, still holding it.
“Go on the goddamn trip, Abbi.”
“Watch your mouth—there are kids around.” Abbi looks quickly side to side and tries to grab her phone again. I take a few quick steps back, putting a table between us. My heart beats fast with the effort, the anger and upset. My watch pings, and Abbi’s eyes widen in panic.
“No. I won’t watch my mouth, because I saw you put your entire life on hold last year. And now you’re doing it again, sitting here acting like things will work out if we’re careful andboring. All you’re really doing is keeping me from living my life while I still have it. And I’m sick of it. I’m sick of you acting like you know best, like you knoweverything. You’re not the one dying, Abbi. I am! You’re just avoiding anything good because youlikefeeling depressed.”
“Stop it, Sera.” She starts to cry, but I can’t stop. All I see is red; all I see is the last few weeks of her circling around me like a vulture just like she did all last summer and fall. I can’t stand her hopeful anxiety anymore.
“No! You stop it! You actuallyhavea future, so stop fucking wasting it on me!”
“You don’t get to tell me how I spend my time.” She lowers her voice in response to my shouting. I scoff at her hypocrisy, but she barrels on. “And aside from right this minute, I’d like to spend as much time with my little sister as I can.”
“Well, too bad, because I don’t want to spend any more time with you. Mom can take over Sera watch. I don’t want to see your face hovering around me anymore.”
“Mom’s tired too, Sera, don’t you get that? Don’t you see how this is killing all of us? Don’t you notice what we’ve given up?”
“And I didn’t ask for any of it!” I shout.
This shuts her up, but now we’re both crying, and my heart is struggling to keep up with my breathing. My watch pings again, and I sit down on a stool and toss Abbi’s phone back at her. She just barely catches it. She shoves it in her pocket, then wipes the tears from her eyes. She’s spent so much time helping me get through the last year, and I love her, but in this moment, I hate her too.
“Maybe we need a break,” Abbi whispers.
“No shit,” I snap, willing my tears to stop and taking a few long, slow breaths.
Abbi stares at me a beat longer, then turns and walks out the door. “I’ll send Dad to pick you up,” she says. “Find someone else to take you to your appointment tomorrow.”
*
In the morning, all heart failures avoided, my gut sour from our fight, I finally feel bad for yelling at Abbi. I go knock on her door. I have every intention of trying to make up without letting things go back to how they’ve been. I just don’t think I can take it if she doesn’t give me a little space to breathe.
There’s no reply.
“Abbi?” I ask, knocking again. “Abigail?” I push the door open, hovering in the doorway as it reveals her empty room.
She probably left early for her trip to avoid me. I stand there as a calm, uncomfortable silence settles into the house.
I sigh and walk into her room, looking around.
Abbi’s room smells like lavender and the incense she likes to burn. There’s a pile of ash in the ceramic tray on the bedside table next to an empty space where she usually keeps the stack of books she’s reading. She’s got a big desk with two overflowing bookshelves on either side and a cozy armchair we found at Nyeman’s two years ago. My eyes catch on a line of shells decorating a couple of shelves in the corner. I recognize them. Treasures I found as a kid and gave to her. Mixed in with them are small pieces of art I’ve made and photos of the two of us.My old volleyball jersey I thought was missing sits folded on the lowest shelf. Maybe she didn’t mean it, but the way everything is laid out, the shells stretched out in lines across the edges of the shelves, guarding all these mementos of our life together—it looks like a shrine.
“I’m not gone yet,” I whisper to the room.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Luke
Sera doesn’t want to talk about her fight with Abbi. I don’t want to press her, but I do want to help, so when she asks me to take her to her doctor’s appointment in Boston, I say yes.
