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But if something had happened to Colton too, and he needed help, like professional help, could I actually confess my own demons to get him that help? I wasn’t sure. I was the only person on the planet who knew about me, and I wanted to keep it that way. Hell, not even Daisy remembered what she’d done, I don’t think. The next time I’d seen her after, she’d returned to ignoring me as if I didn’t exist.
Guilty and worried that I might be hurting my brother by doing nothing and remaining silent, I hurried into my room and shut myself inside alone, glad he wasn’t in here too. After slumping onto my bed, I pulled my laptop on my knees and slipped open the lid, automatically logging into the familiar private chat box before I realized what I was doing.
It had become a habit for me to seek out Sarah whenever I was distressed. She was my sounding board, my voice of reason, my everything. She knew how to make me smile when I was down, how to listen when I wanted to rant, and how to slap some sense into me when I was wrong. Remembering this was the one thing she couldn’t help me with since it was the one thing I’d never told her, I began to shut the laptop when I noticed she’d written a new message since the last time we’d chatted.
Immediately, a calm, cozy, yet giddy ball of warmth ignited in my chest. After all these months, a new message from her still struck me this way. Eager to read what she’d written, I opened the box, glad for the distraction from my own thoughts.
I just got back from speech therapy. Dr. Adler says I’m improving. YAY! So? How did Aspen take it?
For a moment, I had no idea what she was talking about. My mind was still on breakfast where Colton had confessed to Caroline that his nightmares were about our mom. But then my brain cleared, and I remembered how Sarah had sent me the link to an obituary earlier. A high school English teacher had passed away, and since Aspen had been looking for a teaching position—preferably English—for a year now, Sarah had thought there’d be an opening at the high school soon.
I was about to type back and tell her how excited my sister-in-law—whom I loved these days and no longer felt suspicious over—had been over the possibility of a new job when the first part of her message made me close the laptop and reach for my cell phone instead.
Yeah, I know. I had a cell phone now. My own bed, my own laptop, my own cell phone. My life was so much better than it’d been a year ago.
Keeping in mind how her therapist had told her she needed to practice speaking more and writing less, I dialed her number.
As soon as she answered, I grinned. “So can you say the rain in Spain falls mainly on the plain?”
“Screw you.”
I laughed. “Close enough.”
“Have I mentioned how much I hate talking?” she lamented.
“Only all th
e time. Why do you think I called instead of texted?” When she told me I was the worst friend ever, I merely snorted. “Whatever. You love me.”
I would’ve told her how much she’d improved already, after only a few months of therapy, but she muttered a grumpy sound and asked if Aspen had seemed interested in the teaching position.
“Interested? She fucking screamed she was so excited. She literally jumped around the kitchen. And then she burst into tears because she felt so guilty about being happy about some dude dying.”
Sarah clapped. “Yay. Do you think she could get the job?”
I shrugged and picked at a smiley face sticker that Sarah had stuck on my laptop case months ago. At the time, I’d been put out that she’d vandalized my property, but now that it was mostly rubbed off, I kind of missed it. “If she doesn’t, Caroline and I are already planning on taking out another teacher so another job opening will pop up.”
“Oh my God, your family scares me.”
“Hey, as long as you never cross us, you need not be afraid.” She laughed as I affected my voice to sound like the Godfather.
A year ago, I wouldn’t have known how to do that. But Sarah was big into watching all kinds of movies, and so by now I’d beefed up on my cinema knowledge. A smile drifted across my face as I remembered all the different times I’d gone to her house to watch movies. I’d gotten closer to her than I’d ever been to anyone in my life. Sarah was my best friend, and I could tell her anything.
Which was probably why I blurted out, “I’m worried about Colton,” without meaning to.
But dammit! What the hell? Why had I just opened that can of worms?
And right on cue, Sarah asked, “What’s wrong with Colton?”
Yeah, what’s wrong with Colton, you dumbass? Try to talk your way out of this one.
Sarah wasn’t stupid. She was actually one of the smartest people I knew. She’d figure out something else was going on here if I didn’t watch myself.
“I, uh...he’s just been having nightmares is all,” I answered vaguely.
“About?”
I ground my teeth and reluctantly admitted, “Our mom.”
