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We push. My arms vibrate, and I hate the little voice in the back of my head, whispering that we can’t, telling me to just end it.
Give.
Up.
Luna.
I don’t want to. I don’t want to. I don’t ever want to be that person.
Tears burn my eyes. I hate how exhausted I already feel. I hate how I want to erase two nights in a row.
But then, I don’t.
I never want to erase Donnelly.
“Is it moving?” Kinney questions.
“Yeah,” Mom nods profusely, sweat beading her forehead. “It’s almost there.”
It hasn’t budged.
“Again,” Mom decrees. “One, two,three.”
We heave. I start to lose my grip and my feet slide. No, no! “Mom!” I shout as the bookcase groans and tips forward on us.This is all my fault.
“Okay, we need reinforcements,” Mom realizes in a quick, panting breath. “Lo!Lo! LOREN HALE GET YOUR BUTT UP HERE!!” Her panicked words in a scream do the trick.
Footsteps pound harder than my heart, and more than just my dad appears.
“Jesus,Lily,” Dad says, fear encasing my mom’s name. He’s already racing into my bedroom, along with my brothers and Farrow.
They all ram the bookcase against the wall. Xander uses his shoulder like Kinney had been. The structurethunksagainst the plaster and then stays eerily motionless.
As the dust silently settles and I’m still here among broken mugs and thrown books—I’m not invisible; I haven’t dusted yet—their eyes veer around the destruction and onto me.
The source.
I’m…ashamed.
I’ve never shown my pain like Kinney, and it’s too loud and exposed.
“I’ll get a broom,” Mom says with a hearty nod, beelining for the door. “Everything’s going to be okay, Luna!” She shouts super quickly on her way into the hall. Moffy follows in a jog and says something about Ripley being in his highchair.
I blink repeatedly like I’ll finally inherit teleportation. My mom says it could’ve skipped several generations, and we truly don’t know whether Great Grandma Pearl had superpowers or not. She died before I was born, but Dad always disputed the idea and said the woman never left Palm Beach.
To which, Mom replied,that we know of.
I like my mom’s imaginative version of Great Grandma Pearl—a superpowered woman who explored the world without anyone ever suspecting. I picture happy wrinkles around her wide smile while she’s riding a moped in Florence with a hot Italian hunk. In the next hour, she’s sipping tea in London by her awesome self, then she’s exploring the Pyramids in Cairo with her sister Margot and ferrying along the Golden Horn in Istanbul.
Charlie said it’s one of his favorite ferry rides, and I’m still surprised he answered me when I asked him about the best ferries in the world.
So in this moment of my life, I am blinking and blinking and hoping Great Grandma Pearl’s teleportation existed and that it finally transfers to me.
Please.
I don’t know how to recover from destroying my childhood room. My parents could’ve turned this space into another office or gym. Instead, they preserved it for me.
That’s how good they are.
