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“It’s not a punishment, Syd. It just…happened. Shit happens in life. And now you have to deal with it.”
“Shit happens?” She snorts. “Wow. Wise wisdom, big brother. Like I didn’t hear the stories about all the girls in high school. All the storiesCassiahad to hear too.”
I flinch.
“I’m glad you finally got your act together. But what if you’d gotten Grace Harper pregnant, huh? It could have happened, Holden. BecauseShit happens, right? You think you and Cassia would still be together if it had?”
I exhale. I know Sydney is upset and scared and angry.
But this resentment from her is new.
She’s made it clear when she was disappointed in me, and that’s usually involved Cassia in some way. Those lectures lacked the stinging bitterness poisoning her words now.
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly.
Idoknow what Sydney is implying.
This should be happening to me, not her. I’m the sibling who’s slept around. Who’s made reckless decisions. Who hasn’t cared about consequences.
She’s wondering what the point of being cautious is if you’re just dealt a random hand.
And I have no good answers for her. All I can do is support her through it the best I can.
Plus drop the bomb I came here to deliver.
After some awkward silence, our conversation transitions to easier topics. Sydney tells me about an art exhibit she went to last weekend and asks me about basketball. She knows better than to bother questioning me about my classes. This is her first week back, and preparations are already in full swing for the fall play.
About an hour has passed before she glances at her phone. “I didn’t know you were coming, so I made plans this afternoon…”
“No worries. But, uh, before I go, I have to tell you something.”
Sydney scans my face, her expression vacillating between curiosity and worry before finally landing on uncertain. “Okay…”
“It’s about our mom.”
She sucks in a sharp breath, her face a mask of pure shock. “The woman whoabandonedus, you mean?”
I nod, not sure if that phrasing bodes well or poorly for this revelation. If the anger threading through her words means she won’t care or reveals that she still cares too much, the same way I do.
Of the two of us, Sydney is the one I would characterize as sympathetic and understanding. I’m the apathetic asshole. I care about three things: Cassia, basketball, and my sister. Pretty sure Sydney’s list is much longer.
IfI’mstruggling this much with this…I’m terrified how it’ll affect her. But I’m resolved. This is the whole fucking reason I came all the way here—to tell her this in person.
Sydney’s eyebrows creep higher and higher the longer I’m silent.
“What is it?” she finally asks.
“I don’t know how to tell you this. Wasn’t sure if Ishould. I found out by accident and I’ve been debating on whether to burden you with it. Especially after…” I clear my throat.
“Just tell me.”
“She has cancer, Syd. It’s bad; she’s dying. I was at the hospital with Mark at the end of the summer and ran into her getting treatment.”
“What kind of cancer?” Her voice has dropped to a near-whisper, sounding like a child’s.
“Liver. She needs a transplant. I got tested, but I’m not a match. She’s on a list.”
“You gottested?” Her tone is incredulous. “You would have, what? Given her your liver?”
