Rules

by Doe, Anna B.

  He turns around instantly—from the tone of my voice or the urgency in it, I’m not sure and I don’t care. His eyes meet mine across the distance, and I can see the moment he realizes something is happening. And not just that, but something is going terribly wrong.

  My eyes burn, but I don’t let the feelings get to me. I need to keep my cool so I can get to Jeanette.

  Andrew opens his mouth, but I interrupt him before he can say anything. “It’s Jeanette.”

  He sways on his legs like I’ve punched him, the color draining from his face.

  “I have to get back. She needs me.” I swallow hard. “She needs us.”

  Seconds slowly tick. It feels like it’s been forever since I got the phone call. My world is moving in slow motion, but it can’t be more than a couple of minutes at most.

  I just want to hear her heartbeat.

  My phone buzzes again. I expect it to be Dad, but it’s Derek.

  “Are you guys coming or what?” he asks in way of greeting. I can hear the party raging in the background.

  Did we just win the game only a few hours ago? It seems like an eternity.

  “N-no,” I manage to rasp through my closed throat.

  Derek must hear my panic because he grows serious almost instantly. I can hear him move until the noise is dampened, if only slightly. “What’s going on? Is it Andrew? Did something happen?”

  “Andrew is fine.” For now. “It’s J-Jeanette. She’s been in an accident. They’re taking her to the hospital.”

  I look at Andrew, still standing shell-shocked on the porch.

  “I have to go,” I say, not even sure to whom exactly. But they seem like the right words because he snaps out of whatever spell he’s been under and starts to run.

  Ten seconds at most, that’s how long it takes him to get back to the car. He doesn’t slow down. He doesn’t look back. He runs like his life is on the line. Maybe it is. I know mine is for sure because there is no world for me in which Jeanette doesn’t exist.

  I need you to fight, Anette.

  “We’ll be there,” Derek says. Not bothering to reply, I quit the call.

  We both slide back into the car, pulling our seatbelts on before Andrew presses the gas to the floor.

  “What the fuck happened?” Andrew gives me a quick look, his eyes wide before he returns them to the road ahead. His hands are clenching the steering wheel, knuckles white.

  Snow is falling, the roads are icy, and he’s driving like he’s planning to win a NASCAR title or some shit. Not that I mind. I want to get to Jeanette as fast as possible

  I run my hand through my hair, pulling at the strands.

  What the fuck actually happened? Half of the conversation with my father was a blur. The only thing I’m sure of is that she was in an accident. What kind? I have no idea.

  “Did she…” Andrew’s trembling voice breaks me from my haze. “Did she stop eating again?”

  I turn around sideways to look at him, completely surprised by his question. “How do you know about that?”

  “She told me.”

  First, she told the girls and now Andrew too? I wasn’t sure if that was a positive or negative thing, and now wasn’t the time or the place to think too much about it.

  “You’re lying,” I accuse.

  I’m not even sure why it’s so hard for me to believe it. I believed when Brook told me just fine, so why not Andrew too? I know she has feelings for the guy. Maybe she’s even in love with him. Not that I like that very much, but the idea of her opening up to all these people, people she barely knows when she wouldn’t…

  “She told me just after… just after she broke up with me.”

  Why him? Why now? All I ever wanted to do was be there for her, be the person she needed me to be, but when she needed help, she didn’t trust me enough to confide in me.

  I feel numb. Emotionally and physically. I don’t know what to think or say, but Andrew isn’t having it.

  “Will you tell me what the fuck happened, Max? I need to know. Is she okay? Is she hurt? Did she… did she hurt herself?”

  “She’s been in an accident.” The words are barely a whisper.

  “What kind of accident?”

  I frown. “Car accident.” I think. I should really call Dad again. Try to listen this time around.

  “Is she okay?”

  Wouldn’t I want to know the same…

  I grab my phone, done with not knowing. But just as I unlock it, it buzzes in my hand. I almost drop it to the floor in surprise.

  Andrew and I exchange a look. I want to answer, want to know what the fuck is going on, but the other part of me doesn’t even want to think about it.

  What if… what if…

  No. She’s strong. She’ll be okay.

  “D-dad?” For all the reassurance, my voice breaks.

  “Doctors are stabilizing your sister as we speak,” he says in his ‘doctor’ voice. I listen carefully, knowing better than to interrupt. But the only thing I can concentrate on is one word—stable. She’s stable. Her heart still beating. “She has a broken arm and cracked ribs. A lot of cuts and bruises and most likely a concussion. We’ll have to wait until she wakes up. I need you to stop at the house and pick up some things for her for when she wakes up.”

  When he’s done, it feels like I can finally sigh in relief. “Yeah. Sure. I’ll do it. Bye.”

  I don’t even get to hang up before Andrew is throwing questions at me. “What did he say?”

  I tell him what I know, looking through the window. Soon we’ll be back in Greyford.

  “But she’s alive?”

  “She’s alive.” I nod. We just need her to stay that way. “Dad wants us to stop by our house and grab some of her things.

  “I—”

  The fight in him is as clear as day. It’s not like I especially want to stop at home, but I didn’t see the point in fighting with my dad. If he thought Jeanette was in critical condition, he would have told me to come.

  “I know, but she’ll feel more comfortable when she wakes up if she has her own things.”

  After what feels like forever, Andrew nods in acknowledgment.

  We’re coming, Anette. Hold on.

  Just… hold on.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  BROOK

  The party is in full swing when I finally get to the Hill house. Music is blasting loudly, making the walls shake with the beat. People are scattered all over the ground floor, both indoors and out in the yard. Most of them are so drunk they don’t even notice the freezing cold and snow, or maybe they simply don’t care.

  I look around, my eyes scanning the crowd for a flash of red hair, as I accidentally bump into someone. Turning around, I mouth an apology even though the girl is giving me the stink eye.

  Where are you, Lia?

  The last thing I wanted was to stay longer than necessary. With Dan’s warning fresh in my mind, I wouldn't put it past him to have somebody keeping an eye on me.

  I’m just about to head upstairs when I see her coming from the back of the house.

  Lia’s face lights up when she sees me. “You made it!”

  Her body crashes into mine, her hands wrapping around my middle. I’m not really a touchy person, but I return the gesture, knowing damn well this is probably the last time. She pulls back almost as suddenly as she came, just enough so she can look at me.

  “You had me so worried! What the hell happened? Why did you hang up so suddenly?”

  “I—” My mom’s drug dealer cornered me, reminding me of the money she owes him and what will happen if she doesn’t pay up. But of course, I don’t say that. “The connection was shitty. I’m sorry.”

  Those doe-like eyes observe me for a heartbeat before she smiles again. “I’m just happy you’re here! You’ve been working really hard, and it feels like we’re never together. I miss you, Brook.”

  “I—” I miss you too, Amelia. I want to say those words so badly, but they’re stuck in my t
hroat without a way out.

  We’ve been friends for over a decade. No, not just friends. Lia was more like my sister. The best one of us all. I always knew I’d have to leave, but I never actually let myself think of how it would be to walk away from her, and now I know why. The pain I feel, the heartbreak, is almost suffocating.

  But I’ll take any pain over never knowing her at all.

  Because, in my tale, there is no Prince Charming, nor does the princess save herself. No, there was a little ginger pixie who saved me. Or the little that was left to save anyway.

  Wetting my lips, I open my mouth, but the words die on my tongue when I see the commotion over Lia’s shoulder.

  She has to sense it too because she turns around, and we both look at Derek entering the house. His face is pale, hair disheveled.

  “It’s Jeanette.” I inhale sharply, my whole body going still. “We have to go.”

  * * *

  MAX

  Andrew parks the car hastily, and I jump out before it even stops completely. Without saying a word, I run inside. The hallway is lit, and I can see light coming from the living room, but I ignore it as I climb the two steps at a time.

  What the fuck happened, Anette?

  When I get upstairs, first I go to my room to grab a bag. I don’t want to lose time going through her shit trying to find one. The last thing I wanted to do was be here while Jeanette was lying alone and broken in a hospital bed again.

  Fucking broken.

  When Dad called and said she was in the hospital, all I could do was remember that day two years ago. I saw her collapse over and over again. At first, I thought she’d just lost her balance because of the alcohol, but she never got up. For months after it happened, I had nightmares. The image of her small, fragile body in the big hospital bed still makes my stomach turn. I picked her up in my arms and called 9-1-1.

  That was the first time I realized how small she was, how skinny. She was always wearing baggy clothes, and to be honest, I was too preoccupied with what was happening in my own life to notice she was withering away. My own twin.

  And now she’s back there again.

  Why does this keep happening?

  Anger flows through my veins, and I can barely keep myself from falling apart. I want to curl my fingers into a fist and punch something. Anything.

  Grabbing the first duffle I can get my hands on, I leave my room and go across the hall.

  Jeanette’s room is the same. The bed is messy, pillows thrown all over. Books on her desk are open. She was probably doing her homework. Her violin box is carefully leaning against the nightstand. Some of her clothes are thrown over a chair, and one pair of boots is left scattered in front of her closet.

  Normal.

  I open her closet and start pulling things out. A pair of pajamas. Make it two. Some T-shirts, leggings, sweaters. That girl is always ice cold. I throw in some socks and underwear, her charger and her iPad.

  My eyes scan the room for anything else she might need when she wakes up.

  You have to wake up, sis.

  Still going through my mental list of essentials, I walk into her bathroom.

  There is so much girly shit on the counter, I don’t even know where to begin. I run my fingers through my hair in frustration.

  Deodorant, shampoo, toothpaste…

  I start opening the drawers. More make-up, all the girly shit, wipes… Where the fuck does she keep unopened toothbrushes? I squat down to open the last drawer and there they are.

  I throw one in the bag.

  “I think that’s it.”

  I start to get up when something in the trash bin underneath the sink catches my attention.

  There is a carton, wipes and other garbage, and between it all, a white stick.

  Two white sticks.

  Motherfucker.

  Blood turns to ice in my veins, my whole body giving up on me.

  I stand up so fast I almost stumble over my own feet and fall on my ass in surprise, but not once do I look away from the trash can.

  This can’t be real.

  I refuse to believe it, but no amount of blinking makes it go away. The plastic stick is still there. Still very much positively there.

  Gritting my teeth, I dig my hand inside, my insides cringing as the bile rises in my throat—when I get to Jeanette, I’m so going to strangle her for doing this to me—and snatch them out.

  Looking down at them, I confirm what I already know, although I don’t want to believe it’s true. The test is positive.

  At least one of them.

  My hand grips around the plastic tightly, so tightly I’m surprised I don’t hear it snap in half, my gaze turning red as the realization sets in. Jeanette is most likely pregnant, and the father… I swallow hard.

  Motherfucker.

  Barely remembering to take the bag with me, I storm down the stairs and out the front door, my loud footsteps echoing in the otherwise utterly silent house.

  “You fucking piece of shit,” I roar as soon as I see him.

  Andrew turns around, and I can see the confusion on his face, but I don’t have it in me to care. Not stopping for a second, I get in his face. Drawing my hand back, I punch him in the cheek. A sharp pain radiates through my hand, but I know it has to be ten times worse for him.

  He stumbles on his feet from the force of the impact, his hand covering his face, which has already started bruising.

  “What the…” he starts, but I’m in no mood to listen.

  I knew he was an idiot, but this… This I didn’t expect.

  “You stupid…” I punch him again, and this time my fist scrapes his jaw. But it’s not enough. I want to see the fucker bleed. “…fucking…” Another punch to the side. “…son-of-a-bitch.”

  I lift my knee, striking him in the gut. Andrew doubles over, his hands wrapping around his stomach as he struggles to breathe.

  “…t-the f-fuck?” he hisses.

  He lifts his head from the bent position, throwing daggers at me.

  I’m panting, but it has more to do with my anger than actual physical exertion.

  “This is all your fault!” I throw the damn sticks I still hold clasped in my fist at him, but the fucker manages to dodge them. “I knew it! I told her you’re not good enough, but did she listen to me? No! Of-fucking-course not. She never listens to anybody.”

  “Cra-zy,” he wheezes out.

  “I told her you’d destroy her. You two are too fucked up on your own, so how the fuck are you supposed to be together? But instead of listening to me, you did it anyway. Instead of listening to me, you made a mess of everything. You fucked things up, and now she’s back off the wagon and was in a fucking car accident. You broke her!”

  “I broke her?” he spits, coming at me. My hands clasp in fists by my sides, waiting to strike again. Even looking forward to it. “She broke up with me! I asked, no I begged her to reconsider, but she wanted time. So I gave her time.”

  “Time? Is that why she’s lying in a hospital bed pregnant?” I throw back at him, waiting to hear whatever fucking excuse he’ll dish out.

  He stumbles backward, but no excuses come.

  “Fucking pregnant,” I repeat as I walk around him and pick up the test from the ground, shoving it in his face. “I found this in her bathroom.”

  “That’s impossible,” he breathes, all the color draining from his face as he gapes at the stick.

  “The test says otherwise,” I counter.

  Is it really possible that he’s telling the truth? That he doesn’t know?

  I can practically see Andrew’s brain working.

  What the hell were you thinking, Jeanette?

  “FUCK!” Andrew roars. He turns around and slams his clenched fist into the car. I wince as bone hits metal.

  That had to hurt like a bitch.

  Without saying another word, Andrew pulls the door open and slides into the car.

  Oh, hell no.

  “Where the fuck do you think you’
re going?” I grip the door, not letting him close it.

  Yes, Jeanette did a shitty thing by not telling him, but I’m not about to let him abandon my sister, my pregnant sister.

  “Either get in the fucking car or get out of my way.”

  Andrew tries to pull the door, but I don’t let him. “You can’t leave her alone, Hill. I promise you…”

  “I’m not leaving anybody alone. Now GET. IN. THE. CAR,” Andrew grits through clenched teeth. “Or I swear to God, I’ll run you over on the way to the hospital.”

  We stand there, both of us holding on to that door like we’re holding on to a lifeline. Finally, his words register in my mind.

  He’s not abandoning her; he’s going to her.

  Exhaling a breath, I slowly unclench my grip, letting go. Exchanging one hard look, I give him a nod, hoping it tells him all I can’t put into words.

  I’m still angry, pissed really, but I’m also thankful.

  Thankful that my sister has somebody to lean on. Even if that somebody isn’t me.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  MAX

  Andrew drives like a madman, taking every shortcut and cutting every sharp turn, but we get to the hospital in record time. Through the whole drive, we don’t speak a word, the tension in the car so intense that if somebody lit a match, we’d blow up in the air.

  I expect him to go for the parking lot, but like always, he has a mind of his own. Stopping in front of the emergency exit, he gets out of the still-running car and sprints inside before I even manage to get off my seat belt.

  “Hey, you can’t park here!” somebody yells as I get out of the car and follow suit, but I don’t turn around. If he wants to leave his car there, who am I to stop him?

  Inside, I scan the space until I see the sign for the elevators. A while ago, Dad texted that Jeanette’s been admitted to trauma ICU, which is on the fourth floor.

  As always, the elevator takes its sweet-ass time, driving me crazy. I look around a few times, my foot tapping against the floor nervously, but I don’t see Andrew.

  Where the hell did he disappear to? I was seconds behind him.