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The sudden realization that things had to change for my family had buried itself like a kernel deep inside my gut at the hospital. Despite the fact that we were home now and everyone safe, I could still feel it, digging deeper into my abdomen. It was a reminder of the things I’d have to give up to make that happen.

No one knew about my sudden exit from the track team, yet. I hadn’t been to school since Trina, Audrey, and I had cut out at lunch time on Wednesday. After I’d filled Mom and Dad in on everything happening with Charlotte, they’d decided school could wait until Monday and that we needed some emergency family time together. No Internet allowed. No phone. No visitors. No outside world contact. It was like living in a bubble.

Mom and Dad had gotten their new manager to take over things at the diner and had spent the last two days completely with us. It was nice, having them around again, even if most of Thursday had involved multiple lectures that focused around Charlotte’s partying and my withholding of serious information from them. When Dad really got worked up, he liked to put together slide show presentations on just how much we’d messed up. It was hard to stay awake for a hundred pages on the dangers of underage drinking.

So. Many. Slides.

Still, this time together had been worth it.

I reached over without thinking to check my phone and a painful dart shot through my abdomen at the sight of its blank screen. I kept forgetting that my phone had died a tragic death in my pocket at the Cascades. Even if someone wanted to contact me, they couldn’t.

That included Jayden.

It had been three days since I’d seen his face. Four days since I’d broken his heart. And exactly zero minutes since I’d last missed him. He was probably so hurt that I hadn’t contacted him. That I hadn’t wanted him at the hospital. Tears filled my eyes. I squeezed them shut, groaning in frustration as the kernel twisted in my gut. Returning to track and Jayden seemed to be out of reach now.

Jayden deserved so much better than me.

“Hey, sweetie.” Mom appeared in my doorway, holding out a cup of steaming hot tea. “I brought you some Chamomile. Thought it might help you sleep.”

I blinked back the tears and smiled at her, sitting up to gratefully take the hot mug. The sip I took filled my mouth with a flowery tasty goodness and just a hint of honey. Sighing, I slouched down and just inhaled the steam.

“So...Coach Padilla called today.” Mom sat on the bed next to me. I could feel her eyeing the side of my face. “She wondered if you’re planning on coming back to track on Monday.”

I kept my lips pressed together and stared down at the murky liquid in my cup. No, I couldn’t go back. It wasn’t going to be fun facing Coach Padilla, but it had to be done. I’d march in there first thing and hand in my track uniform. Hopefully, she wouldn’t give me too much grief. After all, she’d been the one to kick me off the team in the first place.

Mom placed a hand lightly on my knee. “What’s going on with you, baby? You’ve been miserable all week. At first, I thought it was just you worrying about your ankle. And then, I thought it was about your sister. But that was two days ago and your face is as blue as my berry custard dessert. Speak up, sweetie. Tell me what’s wrong.”

I shifted my gaze to hers. She’d been so busy patching up Charlotte this week, there was no way she could carry my grief, too. I was strong. I could control this.

“I’m just shifting some priorities around in my life,” I said, giving her a half-smile. “No more track. No more weekend meets. I’m going to be home more often, just like you guys.”

Mom’s brow wrinkled. Her eyes darted between mine as she studied me closely. “No more track? But what about your scholarships?”

“Don’t need them. I’ve decided I want to help out at the diner next year.” I set the tea on my nightstand and then leaned back on my arms, splaying my hands on the bed behind me. “You guys can teach me the business. It’ll be way better than going to school. They say you can’t beat hands-on learning.”

“Mandy...” Her voice held a hint of argument.

“And now, I’ll be home more often to help with Charlotte. Aren’t you glad?”

She pressed her lips into a thin line and her eyes narrowed. I swept my gaze to the other side of the room, so she couldn’t see my tears forming. They weren’t tears of heartbreak. I was done crying over the things I was giving up. They were tears of frustration for not having done this sooner and letting myself get so attached to what I couldn’t have. With a quick hand, I wiped them away and dried my tears on the side of my pants.

“Mandy, I think your dad and I messed up big time these last couple weeks. First with Charlotte, and secondly, with you.”

That blurted out confession had me looking over at her again, shock bursting like a firecracker in my chest. “No, you didn’t. You were working hard at the diner. None of this was your fault.”

“Yes, but we’re still your parents.” She stroked a lock of my hair and swept it over my shoulder. “We should’ve noticed what was going on with Charlotte and the drinking. And you should’ve been able to come to us about it the first time.”

My cheeks burned as I moved closer to her. “I thought I had it under control. I didn’t want to add to your stress. With your heart and everything...”

I looked down at the spot just below Mom’s collarbone. It seemed like just yesterday she’d had sticky electrode pads placed all over her chest and the doctor was warning us about the thickening lining of her heart.

“Sweetie, I’m doing just fine.” She squeezed my upper arm softly. “I know now when to pull back. But my heart issues do not give you an excuse to keep things from your parents, especially when they involve things that could turn out to be so dangerous.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but she silenced me with a glare.

“You cannot take this all on yourself. Let us be the parents. You be the kid. That’s the deal I made when I gave birth to you nearly eighteen years ago. I didn’t go through thirteen hours of labor to abandon you three feet from the finish line.”

I couldn’t help but snort at her use of a track metaphor. She grinned with pride, her blue eyes sparkling.

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