“You made it worse,” she shrieked, looking down at her now bandaged up hand.
“No, you made it worse when you tried to rip your hand away when I was stitching you closed. If you would have sat still you wouldn’t have gotten hurt more.”
“I would’ve done a better job myself, now it’s going to scar.Ugh, Bobby’s going to hate this.”
Carter, Cooper, and I all groan audibly at the sound of her boyfriend’s name. None of us like him and know she deserves so much more than him. A wannabe ‘influencer,’ Bobby spends most of his time sitting with his phone in front of his face. Meanwhile, Willow is actually doing something with her life and is set to become a nurse practitioner within the next few years. She’s worked hard, worked her way through nursing school, and has hustled hard for what she has. The girl has more work ethic than most and I respect the hell out of her for it.
“Boobyis a putz and needs to be thrown out on the streets,” Carter laments, calling him the nickname we refer to him by in our group chat.
“I really don’t understand what you see in the guy,” I add.
“He needs to get a real job,” Coop finishes sternly.
She rolls her eyes at us while Ivy eyes all of us with a look of warning. The three of us have a propensity to be a little over protective of Willow which she often takes as us ganging up on her. On more than one occasion, we’ve taken things a step too far and made her cry without meaning too. Hence, the evil glare from Ivy.
“Okay, first, he’s nice to me and I like him a lot. There will be no ‘throwing him out onto the streets’ no matter how upset that makes you. And second, he does have a real job. He works with a lot of big brands around the city and makes a real living from what he does. Just because you don’t understand that, Coop, doesn’t mean it isn’t a real job.” She glares at all of us before grabbing her plate from the table to fill it with food.
“If he makes you happy, honey, that’s all that matters,” Ivy chimes in, moving towards the table. I step up behind her to pull out her chair to help her into it.
“Thank you, Ivy. He does make me happy. So you fools need to butt out and mind your own business. I don’t remember hearing of any ofyoubeing in a successful relationship.” She eyes the three of us and we all exchange a silent glance. “That’s what I thought.”
She plops herself down in the chair next to Ivy, and Carter takes the one next to her. Cooper and I fill our plates and complete the table in the final two chairs. We all eat, silence falling around the room while we do but it doesn’t last long. Reaching over, Carter takes his fork and steals a potato from Willow’s after he’s finished his own. She smacks him hard on the back of the hand.
“Next time I’m going to stab you with my fork,” she threatens, narrowing her eyes at him.
“I’d love to see you try,” he smirks in reply.
The two of them have always been close, ever since he first came to live with us. It’s like they had a bond that’s on a different level than the rest of us. Sure, Coop is Willow’s biological brother, but Carter is more like her defender. There were plenty of times in high school he would threaten to beat up the kid who was mean to her on the playground or would wait for her after school to walk home with her while Coop and I would leave without them.
Leaning over, Coop slips Lola a piece of egg where she’s lying on the floor next to his chair. Giving her a pat on the head, I can see how much he loves the German shepherd he raised and trained himself to be his police dog. They’re a full unit, the two of them. Wherever you see Coop, you see Lola.
While it might not be the traditional type of family you see in movies or books, it’s the best kind of family I could have ever asked for. Having Carter as my brother and Coop and Willow as two of my closest friends is more than I could ever dream of as a kid. And having a mother like Ivy is the greatest gift I’ve ever gotten. Looking around the table, I smile softly, grateful to have what I do.
But then the moment of gratitude is gone and my smile slips when I remember that at a dining room table just like this, is a family with a now empty chair that wasn’t empty earlier this summer. A chair that will sit empty and a family that will remain broken for the foreseeable future. Forever knowing that something is missing.
And it’s all my fault.
8
MILES
Wood cracking.
Smoke clogging my lungs.
Screams coming from the street.
A raging heat on my skin I can’t escape no matter where I turn.
And a voice crying out for help but no matter where I go I can’t reach it. I can’t reach him.
“Help me!”
“I’m coming! Hang on!” I scream, but it feels as if I’m trapped and my words aren’t actually coming out.
“Miles…”
My body starts to shake like the floor is crumbling underneath me. I try to shout again but nothing comes out.
