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“Here.” I handed her the glass of orange juice, which she happily took, before setting the tray of sandwiches between us. “Turkey or ham?”
“Must I really choose?” She pouted.
“Both works, too.” I had made more than enough.
Smirking, she took the turkey first. “Thank you.”
“You know”—I grabbed a sandwich for myself—“I’m not perfect either, right? I’m a controlling neat freak who gets his kicks torturing young interns, and I only have one friend whom I’m an ass to, for the most part.”
“If I found out you were perfect, I would feel uncomfortable,” she replied, licking the mayo off the side of her lip.
I tried not to focus on it.
“Besides, after last night, I have a better understanding of what type of person you are.”
“And what type of person am I?”
“A rock,” she said.
I looked at her, completely confused.
“My dad always classifies people in terms of nature. People who are rocks, like you, are always at the base of people. Helping people, taking care of people, no matter the cost. You don’t realize it, but when Logan was saying how much he wished he could pay you back for always being there for him, I saw it. You are willing to sacrifice everything for the people you care about.”
“Isn’t that everyone?” I took another bite.
“Yeah, but not everyone plans their lives around their little brother and mother, where they go to school, where they start their careers. Not everyone calls their brother's professor just to check up on how he’s doing. You do it because you love them enough that worrying about yourself makes you feel selfish. Even when we first met again at the hospital, I was wrong; you weren’t telling me to leave because my presence bothered you, you really were worried that Logan was going to keep blaming himself. You are your family's rock. It’s not a bad thing, it’s amazing,” she said, eating as her brown eyes watched me carefully.
I wasn’t sure how I felt about her reading me so easily. “What does your father call you?”
She laughed. “I’m the rain because, as he would say, I’m vital to his life. The world would be a horrid place if it never rained. My mother says it’s because I can be a summer shower or a hurricane. And my brother…my brother used to say it was because I was a wonder. No matter how many times you see the rain, if you just sit and watch, it’s wondrous. As you can tell, they were all biased.”
I didn’t think so, but said nothing anyway.
“And what I told you about my brother.” She bit her lip, glancing back up at me. “Do you mind never talking about that with anyone? Besides you and Stevie, you're the only person outside of my family who knows.”
“You never told anyone else?” I wanted her to say she never told him.
She nodded. “It’s not something you can bring up in casual conversation.”
“I won't say a word. Thank you for telling me. I’m still not a hundred percent okay, but I’m going to try my best to support Logan. I guess part of me is annoyed because I can’t help him in any way. He has to do it on his own, and I have to let him. It’s a first for me.”
“He’s doing well already,” she said, taking her phone off the bedside table. “He already has a lot of followers on social media, and his song was in the iTunes top one hundred.”
“What?” I took the phone from her, and sure enough, there was Logan onstage at some concert. “When did he do all of this?”
“I don’t know. I remember Sebastian talking about his music career once, but I never followed it closely. I googled him after he left; as you can see, I’m a little nosy.”
“I had no idea he was already doing this,” I said, more to myself, scrolling up and down all the messages he had from fans, people he didn’t even know who supported him more than I did. Sighing, I gave her back the phone, resting against my pillows.
She took the tray off the bed and put it on the ground beside her. Wrapping her arm around me, she rested her head on my chest.
“I only wanted to make sure he was okay. When our father died, Logan was so little. I felt bad because I had all these memories, and he didn’t, so I’ve always tried to do what my father did for me: set a good example, make sure he was doing everything he was supposed to, going to all his games. I didn’t realize I was suffocating him.” It hurt to think about.
“You weren’t,” she said softly as my hands rubbed up and down her side. “I’m sure he’s happy he has all those memories, and besides you wanting him to be a doctor, he wouldn’t change anything.”
“I knew he liked music, but I never thought it could be his career. It’s just—”
“His life now depends on whether or not other people like what he doe
