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“She’s letting me redo the paper.” Which is fucking stupid. The paper was good the first time. The assignment was to discover an unconventional method of doing math and convince the reader why that system is better. It’s not my fault the base twelve math model is so obscure and over her head. She’s a twelfth-grade Calculus teacher, for fuck’s sake.
“Then make sure you do it right this time,” he states, like I’m not giving it my all already. Next time, I’ll dumb it down a notch. Then maybe Mrs. Miller will understand the shit I write.
“You still off Saturday?”
“As of right now, yes.” He twists the lid on the jug, grabs his lunch, and begins to leave the kitchen. “I’ll let you know if it changes.”
As much as dad needs the hours at work, it’s better if he’s not called in. I’ll make more money in one night of fighting than he’ll make in one week. Of course, he doesn’t know about my weekly fights, and he won’t be learning about them anytime soon.
I follow him to the front door.
“I’ve already given Danielle her medicine, so it’s just dinner you need to take care of.”
“Got it.”
I close the door and head to Danielle’s room. She’s lying on her bed with her favorite stuffed elephant pressed up against her side as she reads a book. Since I bought her the stuffed animal on one of our zoo excursions, she clings to it like it’s a lifeline.
I stay in the doorway for several seconds and look at her. She’s pale today, and her oxygen mask is sitting on her chest, ready to use when she needs it. Today hasn’t been a good day.
Her long brown hair is twisted into some weird braid and is draped over her pillow. Her eyes fly over the page before she flips to another.
I walk into the room. “Hey, Dani. How’s my girl?”
Her eyes light up when she sees me, and she gifts me with a smile. My heart hurts when I see the dark spots under her eyes. She must have slept like shit last night. She’s usually still asleep when I leave in the mornings. Last year was her last year in school, switching to home schooling because she missed so many days.
“I’m okay.” Her chest rises and falls slowly as she puts the book down on her stomach.
“You get all of your assignments done for the day?”
She wrinkles her cute little nose. “Yeah. That science test was hard though, so I don’t know how well I did.”
Her breathing is a bit faster now, as if just saying those few words has taken their toll. She lifts the mask to her face to give herself a little oxygen boost. I sit on the side of her bed and grab the end of her braid, giving it a gentle tug.
“Nah. I’m sure you aced it.” I smile. Danielle is extremely smart. “Dad said he gave you your medicine already.” She nods. “What sounds good for dinner?”
She pulls the mask away and narrows her eyes, her lips puckering in thought. A cheeky grin appears on her face. “How about… mint chocolate chip ice cream?”
I chuckle and tug her braid again. “Nice try. How about I throw us some chicken and home fries on the grill and we eat it out back?”
“Then mint chocolate chip ice cream?” she asks, her eyes sparkling hopefully.
There’s no way I could deny her. “Then mint chocolate ice cream.”
“Deal!”
“Meet me in the kitchen. You can sit and peel the potatoes.”
Leaning down, I press a kiss to her forehead before leaving her room. A lot of guys my age despise their younger siblings, calling them nuisances, and would resent them if they were forced to watch them instead of being able to hang out with friends. I’ve never felt that way toward Danielle. I enjoy being around her. Some would say that was born out of pity and obligation. Those people, I’d like to punch their noses through their skulls.
Danielle is special on so many levels. I’ve never felt resentment toward her or felt her illness was a burden. She’s my baby sister, and I’d do damn near anything for her.
I pull the chicken out of the freezer and grab a bowl, filling it with potatoes. Snatching a potato peeler from the silverware drawer, I carry it and the bowl to the eat-in kitchen table.
I glance up with a smile when Danielle slowly walks into the room, wheeling her oxygen tank behind her.
My planned evening may not be on the typical teen guy’s wish list, but damn if I’m not looking forward to spending it with my little sister.
RYLEE
