by Vivian Lux
“Thanks man.” I took a drink and winced again.
Both Beau and Jonah saw it. “You take anything?” my older brother asked.
I thought for moment. “Not since this morning.”
“I still think you’re making this much harder than it needs to be,” Jonah said, unable to keep the pompous-know-it-all out of his voice for too long. “Taking something for the pain in your body is much different than…”
“Taking something for the pain in my mind?” I finished.
My three brothers looked at each other in turn. Claire stared at a point in the middle distance. There was the telltale sound of shuffling feet.
This was exasperating. I shook my head. “No, it’s got the same effect on my fucked-up brain. I don’t want to need anything.”
“It’s not the same!” Jonah protested, but Beau shot him a look and Beau was probably the only person in the world besides his fiancée Ruby who could get Jonah to shut the fuck up for once.
I handed him the glass and let my head fall back on the pillow. “You’ve any idea how hard I had to work to get sober?” I said through gritted teeth. I glanced at my elder brother. “No, you don’t.”
Jonah winced, and I could feel the guilt rolling off of him in waves. Maybe he was still trying to make up for the fact that he hadn’t been around, that we’d gone nearly two years without speaking, without clearing the air after the breakup both of our band and my relationship with Noelle. He’d spent the last two years hell bent on proving he could make it without us, only to realize recently that he wanted us again. Wanted to be brothers once more.
That’s why, as near as I could tell, he spent so much time hovering around here, up my ass so far I needed a crowbar to get him loose.
I’d told him we were cool half a million times at this point. But it was clear he didn’t believe me. And hell, I probably didn’t help things with the way I acted. The rage I’d felt towards him still came back every so often. The need to needle him about Bennett was still there. Even though I fought it, sometimes I lost.
“I get it,” Jonah said.
“No, you’ve no idea.”
“I know what Bennett did,” Jonah said, his voice fierce. He glanced over at Beau. “We all do.”
I tried to shake my head, but it hurt too much. “It wasn’t my choice,” I said again. “I don’t care how many times they told me in rehab that it was my responsibility, it wasn’t.”
“You trusted him,” Beau said, nodding. My younger brother always had a knack for getting right to the point you still struggled to make. It was like he knew your thoughts before you were done thinking them. We always called him creepy for it, but I was grateful for it now as I struggled through the haze of pain. “He was our manager, we were kids, we were raised to trust adults. No one had ever betrayed us like that before.”
“Fuck,” I breathed. It still felt humiliating to think back on how it all had happened. The first time Bennett—our manager and the man who’d shepherded our career from county fairs to giant stadiums—offered me a pill to “take the edge off” I hadn’t thought twice. Fame was a fickle bitch and Bennett said he was only looking out for me when he handed me the white pills and the glass of water.
Whether it was his aim to get me addicted and therefore beholden to him or whether that was just a happy side effect to his carelessness, I’ll never know. “I still think about it. Every fucking day I catch myself wanting to use again.”
I heard Finn growl softly. Beau and Jonah looked at each other, but my sister just looked down. I wondered what Claire was thinking. She’d always been desperately jealous of our fame. Fame she’d been shut out of for being a girl. Bennett had wanted a boy band. No room for a girl, no matter how talented a singer she was.
If she was listening right now, really fucking listening, maybe she’d start realizing the fame wasn’t worth the cost?
“When I got sober, they were always talking about how I chose to take this path, but I never did,” I went on. My legs were throbbing in time with my heartbeat. “Now, here I am being asked to take pills again because they say I have no choice! That I’m not going to be able to do it on my own.” I looked at each of my siblings so they would know I was dead serious. “I am. I’ll take the risk.”
Beau and Jonah glanced at each other. “Sometimes I feel like Bennett fucked you over worse than Noelle did,” Jonah said.
At the mention of my ex, both visibly winced. “She gave an interview,” Claire said through clenched teeth. “Fucking bitch didn’t even mention you at all.”
“Why would she?” I sighed. “She got what she needed from me. A springboard to fame.”
“Well her new song sucks and she does the fucking robot in her music video. All ‘teehee look at me I’m adorably awkward.’“ Claire rolled her eyes viciously. She folded her arms over her chest. “I wish like hell I could run into her sometime,” she said loyally. “She’s gonna catch these hands.” She waved her slim, piano-playing hands with their perfectly pink manicure around like a karate master.
Even though I felt like shit and even though it hurt like hell it still made me smile to see my baby sister playing badass. Made me smile enough that it took me a second to register what she’d just said. Noelle had a new single out.
I have to watch that.
I can’t watch that.
I licked my lips and tried to grin wider. “For her own safety I hope she never crosses paths with you.”
“Oh my posse is on the case, G-man,” she said with a decisive nod. “Willa, Sadie, Ruby, and I are ready to lay down the little-sister-law.”
“Wait, Ruby’s in this posse?” Jonah interjected, looking worried.
Claire rolled her eyes. “I won’t let your future wife get dinged up. But you have to know she’s a good scrapper.”
“I am well aware,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck and looking way too delighted by the idea. Just looking at him you could tell he was picturing his fiancée in some kind of ninja catsuit kicking ass.
I groaned.
“You okay?” Beau asked.
“No,” I complained. “Jonah’s making me nauseous.”
Finn burst out laughing as Jonah smiled sheepishly and I felt something like gratitude in my chest that all five of us were talking again, that we were in the same room. Even if the room was my mom’s cramped little sunroom where my bed took up most of the space.
“But hey,” Beau broke in, interrupting Finn giving Jonah epic shit about Ruby’s bad taste in men, “You said you’re overdue for your ibuprofen, right?”
“I’ll go get it,” Claire volunteered, glaring at Jonah. “Whatever your train of thought is about my best friend right now, please, for my sake, make it derail.” She stalked from the room while Finn hooted.
But as much as I loved it when Jonah was brought down a peg, I wasn’t feeling up to joining in. “Fucking hate this,” I said to no one in particular. “Wish I could get up and get my own damn ibuprofen.” Then I brightened when I remembered something. “But then again,” I said, looking up at my brothers. “I walked today, did I tell you?”
Beau clapped his hand together. “Shit, really?”
“That’s incredible!” Jonah added, pumping his fist. Finn raised his above his head in a fuck-yeah salute.
I grinned. “Ten steps and then I basically fell on Everly,” I said, neglecting to mention how good she had felt in my arms. The curve of her spine at her lower back urging me to slide my hand further down. The way her eyes had shone when I told her I remembered her, with a kind of open, hopeful expression that was both pants-tightening and heart-breaking at the same time. I blinked. “But still, I fucking walked and I’ll be able to do more soon.
“No wonder you’re hurting.” Claire had returned with my pills. I hadn’t realized she’d been listening but then again, this was Claire we were talking about. She always had her nose in other people’s business. “That’s a lot for your first therapy appointment.”
“I’m
fine,” I said as I swallowed them dry. It must have been the millionth time I said those two words, but no one believed me.
“You could try something that wasn’t an opioid,” Beau piped up. He’d been scrolling through my tablet. “Non-addictive stuff. Tor-a-dol,” he sounded out. “Or semi-opioids like Tra-ma-dol or Tap-en-ta-dol.” He grimaced. “I have no idea if I’m saying them right but you could at least try to make this process easier on you.”
“Non-opioid, like the ibuprofen I just took?” I stuck out my tongue. “I took my meds, doc. I’m a good little pillhead.”
“It’s not the same,” Beau said. He looked genuinely pained to see me in pain. I’d been completely out of it during the first stages of my recovery, but I somehow knew he’d been at my side the most.
I gritted my teeth and shook my head. “Sorry man,” I said. I wanted so badly to agree with Beau. He’d always been the caretaker. Of all of my siblings he was the most in tune with how we were feeling. I trusted him, I always trusted him. But not about this. “I can’t do it. I really, really can’t.”
“Stay strong,” Finn said. He glanced at his twin as if he too saw this as a betrayal of Beau’s status as the one who knew about these things. “I know what he went through, man, and I don’t want you to fuck up your recovery in any way.” Finn leaned back against the wall. “Still wanna kick his ass, you know,” he said, letting his head fall back.
“Who? Bennett?”
“You never let me take him out the way I wanted to,” my hotheaded little brother grunted.
Claire was nodding her head. “I agree with Finn,” she said, because of course she did. The two of them should have been the twins. They were more alike than any of the rest of us. “How about we just go break Bennett’s ankles too? Would that make you feel better? Tit for tat. He gets you hooked on pills, we get him hooked up to an IV.” It was hard to remember her in pink dresses with bows in her hair when her eyes had that bloodthirsty gleam in them. She glanced at Jonah. “I’m sure Ruby would be up for joining us.”
I looked at my siblings, ready even now to go kick some ass for me. I tried to smile, but it hurt too much. “No,” I said, the words of recovery still ringing through my head. “Thanks guys, but…” I sighed. “This is on me.”
Chapter Eight
Everly
I needed to leave right now if I was going to make it across town in time for class. I grabbed my heavy bag and headed towards the back door off the kitchen, intending to sneak around the side of the house so the sound of the front door opening wouldn’t wake my parents.
But the second I stepped into the kitchen, I heard the telltale thump of my mother’s feet on the floor upstairs.
Which meant I had woken her up.
Fuck. She was going to want to talk to me. Which meant I was going to be late.
“Hey,” I exhaled as she blinked and yawned her way down the stairs, performing the part of “aggrieved parent woken too soon” perfectly. My mother missed her calling when she opened a bakery rather than moving to Hollywood to star in old-fashioned, overly emotive silent films.
“I heard you were home,” she sighed pointedly. “I didn’t want to miss seeing you. You’re like a ghost in this house.”
I sank back onto my heels. The issue here was that my class schedule, and now my new job next door, had me out of the house most of the day. In a normal family this would mean we could relax together in the evening, unwinding as we shared stories of our day. But that would never happen for two reasons. Number one was that my parents were in bed by seven. And number two was that there was no guilt-free relaxing in the Foster home.
But both of these reasons were facts of my life that were never going to change, so I just shrugged. “Yeah, sorry,” I said, and bent to retie my shoes.
She yawned and stretched again as she headed to the coffee maker. “You headed back out?” she asked, as casually as can be.
I paused, steadying my hands, then resumed tying the laces. “Yeah,” I said, breezy and easy, giving her the benefit of the doubt. “Class is at 3:45.”
“You have class today?” my mom interrupted.
Her back was still to me. She reached up into the cupboard to retrieve her mug, then tapped her foot, waiting for the coffee maker to heat up. She couldn’t see me staring at her in disbelief. “Yeah, Mom. I’ve had class on Thursday afternoons all semester.”
When she finally did turn around, her expression was halfway between bored and irritated. “You didn’t tell me,” she said, shaking her head. She blew on her coffee and then took a sip.
For a moment the only sound was the whip of the March winds lashing sheets of rain against the window panes. It made me feel even more claustrophobic than I usually did in this house. “I definitely did,” I said, deliberately keeping my tone mild as I finished tying my shoes, and stood up. “It’s been this way since January.” I brushed my hands down the front of my scrubs, wordlessly pointing them out to her, if she’d only look at me.
There was always that hope when I wore my scrubs around my mom like this. That she’d smile and say something about how she was proud of me. But my mom considered my nursing school uniform nothing more than some kind of delayed teenaged rebellion. Like at twenty-two I was still going through a stage and would wise up eventually.
So when she shook her head, I shouldn’t have been disappointed, but I was anyway. Disappointment was as natural to me as my broad, strong shoulders and the star-shaped birthmark under my right clavicle. It was part of me. “I would have remembered,” my mother said, and I could see by the obstinate jut of her chin that she was starting to get angry at me for pointing out that she’d screwed up. “You need to be better at communicating.”
I licked my lips, wondering just how invested I needed to be in this fight. “Sorry, Mom,” I said instead.
She nodded, victorious without even having to drag out the big guns. Then she glanced over to the counter and sighed at the pile of mail my dad had left before heading up for his nap. “Be home by curfew,” she said distractedly.
“Yup,” I said, unnatural irritation making my fingers itch. “Hey mom, I forgot to tell you,” I said as she tore open an envelope with her fingernail. “I met up with a couple of the God’s Chosen cult ladies yesterday. I’m joining up.”
“Sounds good,” she murmured, intently scouring a piece of junk mail.
I licked my lips. “Cool. Bye then.”
Those extra three minutes spent talking to her ended up snowballing. You give the Grim Reaper one inch and he takes a yard. The second my car thought it was acceptable to stall, it started doing it with gusto, with every stoplight between my house and the campus an exercise in extreme praying. When I finally found a spot half a mile from my building, I checked the clock on my phone.
Class was starting right now.
I broke out into a full-on sprint. The rain pelted me with icy needles, sizzling as it hit my overheated skin while I skidded through puddles.
Once inside the building, the hallways felt overwarm, and the rainwater on my skin mixed with the prickles of sweat. I was now six minutes late, and that was enough to make it so my entrance had everyone swiveling in their seats.
Our regular professor was out today. The substitute paused and gave me a pointed look as I sat down. I’d missed her introduction.
That turned out to be the only time she looked at me the entire period.
“Like I said,” she rehashed unnecessarily as I found my way to the back of the lecture hall. “Professor Dorrington just asked me to go over some common questions you’re going to see on the boards.”
I straightened up in my seat. I’d been studying at least two hours a day for months now. This would be easy for me. I’d been studying. I knew the answers.
But I seemed invisible.
“First question!” she read off her index card. “When caring for a patient with a cardiac dysrhythmia, which laboratory value is a priority for the healthcare provider to monitor?”
“Sodium, potassium, and calcium,” I muttered just as the blonde down in the front flubbed it.
I pressed my lips together. The instructor asked for another answer. I raised my hand first, but she swept past me and called on Jamie-with-the-shiny-hair who didn’t even have her hand raised. Jamie haltingly gave the answer while I mouthed along with her.
The next question was even easier. I remembered it word for word from my NCLEX practice quizzes online. “The healthcare provider is seeing four patients at the neighborhood clinic. Which of these patients should the healthcare provider identify to be most at risk for iron-deficiency anemia?” she called out. “Number one: The woman of childbearing age reporting a craving for ice. Number two: The obese patient with a history of gastric bypass surgery. Number three: The patient who follows a strict vegan diet. Or number four: The patient who has a diagnosis of chronic renal failure?”
I knew this one, and confidently threw up my hand.
“The vegan,” one of the few male nurses shouted. “Need to check them for b12 too, since they don’t eat meat.” He shook his head. “Stupid vegans.”
The sub grinned but shook her head. “Wrong. Anyone else?”
I was practically straining my shoulder trying to get her to call on me. The answer was the woman of childbearing age. I knew my periods were heavy enough to bring on anemia. I knew this question on a personal level.
“Okay you guys, the answer is the woman of childbearing age!” the sub shouted. “Heavy menstrual flow can bring on anemia. Definitely need to go back and review that. All of you.” She flipped through her cards, wrinkling her nose as she did.
I felt a flush crawl across my face.
I wasn’t certain why today, of all days, it bothered me that I was being overlooked. I certainly should have expected it. Slipping by in the background, stepping aside for others to go into the spotlight, that was my specialty. It had never bothered me before. It didn’t even bother me that Gabe hadn’t remembered who I was when he had his arms around me. It didn’t. It definitely didn’t.
