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“Home as in—you’re in Pembrooke?” All I can hear in her voice is surprise.
“Yeah, I realized I forgot a few things. And Catherine wanted help with a couple of projects around the condo.”
The lie is out before I’ve thought it through—before I’ve thought at all.
I want to tell her about my mom, but I also don’t want to discuss it. And I won’t know the results of the testing for a little while. If I’m not a match, if I can’t do anything, I’m not sure there’s anything worth telling Cassia. It’ll be something I bury, along with all the other problems in my family I couldn’t fix.
“I feel bad that I wasn’t around to help this summer, after everything she’s done for me and Sydney.” More bullshit spills out of my mouth. “I’m just spending one night, then I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“Okay. Say hi to Syd from me.”
“Yeah, I will.”
Sydney is one of the reasons I came here after leaving the hospital. I’m not ready to face her yet.
She’s the other person I can’t decide on whether to say anything about my mom to or not. Part of me thinks she deserves to know.
The rest of me wants to protect her. I couldn’t shelter her from our mom leaving or our dad dying, but I could shield her from this. Pretend I never saw our mom in that hallway. Chances are she’ll never find out about this on her own. In Sydney’s mind, our mom has been dead for a long time.
But if I’m not a match…Sydney might be.
I’m torn about whether she deserves to make the same decision I did.
She’s an adult, technically. But she’s also mylittlesister.
“Holden?”
I straighten from my slouch. “Yeah. Still here. Sorry. What did you say?”
“Come by tomorrow, okay? I miss you.”
I smile, rubbing a hand against the back of my neck. “I will. I love you.”
“Love you too.”
She hangs up and I sink back against the bleachers.
Stare at the hoop.
Dr. Meyers was very thorough. Before I started the testing, he ran through the recovery process if I am a match and do decide to donate. I’m looking at eight to ten weeks after surgery until I’d be cleared to play basketball.
Between the delay for test results and actually scheduling surgery, that period wouldn’t start until early October at the absolute earliest.
I wouldn’t be able to play basketball this season.
My senior year.
My last chance to chase a professional career.
Gone, just like that.
That scares me more than the risks of bleeding, infection, or liver failure that Dr. Meyers also ran through.
As pathetic as it sounds, I don’t know who I am without basketball.
I’ve always played.
Basketball has been there for me in my darkest moments. The only thing I love anywhere near as much as I love Cassia, and many special moments with her are mixed in with the sport.
