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She always used to say how she wanted a Cory, and I remember wondering why Waylon couldn’t be that. I’d asked her once, and she scrunched up her face, and said, “Nah, he’s more like a Shawn. Mason could be my Cory, maybe.”
I didn’t think much of it at the time. Other than thinking that made even less sense to me than Waylon.
But now, thinking back on how weird she’s been acting the last few months…looking at Mason differently, giggling all girly-like around him… I can’t help but feel like I missed something. A chance to…I don’t know, tell her not to do that. He’s supposed to be her friend. Nothing else.
We’re eleven. I don’t get why she’s even thinking about stuff like this.
“They’re not real,” I finally say, stupidly, when she just stares at me, clearly waiting for me to say something.
She huffs, scowling. “I know that, but stuff like that happens in real life all the time. Mom and Dad met when they were in school. So did Way’s parents.” She grins. “We’re gonna grow old together and die together like Grandma and Poppy.”
I make a face at that.
She seems so…excited for that.
“Why are you making that face?”
“What face?”
“Your puss face.” And she mimics it by wrinkling her nose and sticking her lips out.
Feeling my cheeks grow hot, I say, “I don’t have a puss face, shut up.”
“You do too. You’re doing it again right now.”
Shoving off the bed, I scowl, clenching my fists over my stomach. It feels all tight and gurgly, and I know if I don’t calm down, I’ll make myself sick. “Shut up,” I repeat on a whisper.
“JJ,” she says. “I thought…I thought you’d be happy for us. It means he’ll get to be your brother one day, just like Dad and Uncle Brian.”
And I’m shaking my head, face bunching in that face she accused me of. But I can’t help it.
Everything she’s saying…
It’s wrong, it’s all wrong.
“Why can’t you just be happy with the way things are?” I find myself saying, gritting the words out through my teeth. “Why do you always have to change everything?” My voice shakes something fierce, like I’m crumbling from the inside out.
She scoots off the bed, and stands to face me.
I meet her gaze. “Why do you ruin everything?” I growl.
Her eyes widen, chin wobbling as they fill with tears. “JJ…”
“It’s Jeremy!” I scream bloody-murder, lunging toward her, hands clawed at the air.
Izzy flinches back, curling into herself, eyes wide with hurt.
I haven’t hit my sister in years, not since we were little, and we didn’t know better. She’d pinch me, or I’d shove her. Mom and Dad would separate us, and eventually we’d crawl our way back to each other, hug it out, say sorry, and it would be like nothing even happened.
This though…
This feels different.
And I only manage to stop myself at the last possible second.
Mom rushes into the room moments later. “Hey hey hey, what’s going on here?” She looks between us, frowning when she sees the tears on Izzy’s face, and me clenching my fists at my sides.
“I hate you!” I cry out, having no idea where any of this is coming from. It’s like I’ve been possessed, like when Spider-Man was taken over by Venom, and became the darkest version of himself. “I hate you, I hate you, I ha?—”
