by Kaila Glass
Your family hates you, her Inner Critic spat.
I know.
You scared away your son without saying a word.
I know.
Stop contaminating this home with your presence.
Okay.
She staggered across the kitchen, barefoot, and opened a door that led to the garage. She locked the door behind her.
24
The Garage
Blake biked alongside Quen down the busy street, the sun hanging low in the sky. The worry must’ve shown on his face, because Quen gave a reassuring smile and said, “Rumors are just that. I’m sure he’s fine.”
Blake looked away. “He used to fight all the time in Rosewood, but… a girl?” He shook his head. “What’s happening to him?”
“Why don’t you talk to him when you get home, get all the facts?”
Blake nodded once and mumbled his agreement. After a moment’s silence, he said, “I gotta give him props, though. He waited ‘til the middle of November. He usually starts right after…” He trailed off when they turned on Appleby.
“Blake…” Quen began, pointing.
The garage door was closed, plumes of black smoke creeping from the bottom. He pedaled harder, Quen keeping close behind him. They pulled up the driveway and tossed their bikes aside. Blake gripped the bottom of the door, pulling with all his might. Quen followed suit, coughing and sputtering, the smoke gripping their throats. The door did not budge.
“Let’s go from the inside,” Blake said.
They ran inside and entered the kitchen. Blake tried to open the door that led into the garage but found that it was locked. He turned to Quen. “Help me break it down!” Quen nodded and the pair threw themselves at the door, slamming it with their shoulders. “C’mon!” he yelled after the failed third attempt. It wasn’t until what felt like the hundredth thrust at the door that it burst open. They charged in, hands covering their mouths, smoke hanging in the air. Blake ran to the driver’s side to find his mother unconscious in her seat; it was as though she were sleeping. He banged on the window, fresh tears stinging his eyes. “Mom! Mom, it’s me! Wake up!” When she didn’t respond, he opened the door, put his arms under hers, and tugged her out of the car. Quen helped with her legs and together they brought her into the kitchen, laying her down on the floor.
Blake knelt beside his mother, hot tears racing down his cheeks. “Mom…” he whimpered. “Wake up. Please. You’re scaring me.” He held her wrist and turned to Quen, who was opening a window. “She’s got a pulse.”
Quen nodded. “I’ll call 9-1-1.”
Blake gasped, dropping his mother’s wrist and jumping to his feet. “Cleona!”
He bolted out of the kitchen, up the stairs and into his sister’s room. He leaned over her crib to find the baby on her back, staring up at him with their mother’s eyes.
“Don’t you ever do something stupid like this, you hear me?”
Cleo gurgled, grasping for her toes. He held out his finger to her and she took it.
“It’s gonna be ok,” he breathed, though it was more to himself than to her.
No, it won’t, his Inner Critic countered. Your mom just tried to—
SHUT UP! Blake thought, bringing his fist down on the crib’s rim.
He reached into his back pocket and withdrew his phone.
* * *
Phoenix, his phone to his ear, rose from his keyboard. “What? Wait, slow down… No, that’s crazy, that’s… Shit. Okay… Yeah, I’ll be there soon. Hang tight.” Phoenix hung up and ran a hand through his hair, his hand on his hip.
“What’s wrong?” asked Robbie, bass in hand. He, like Phoenix and Fang, had thrown sports jackets over their school uniforms and stood on stage as they’d done last month. However, the Lexington Estate’s guests wore tuxedos and gowns instead of costumes.
“I need to go, now. It’s a family emergency.”
“What happened?” Fang and Robbie asked together.
“It’s my mom. She…” Phoenix ran both hands through his hair and shut his eyes. “I just need to go, like, right now!”
“I’ll take you.” Phoenix looked down to see Luxe at the foot of the stage dressed in an elegant gown, her blonde hair swept over one shoulder. “It’s the least I can do.”
Phoenix turned to his bandmates. “Robbie, you good to play piano?”
“Always!” he answered.
“Good, then take lead vocals, too. We can’t stop the show just ‘cause I’m gone.” He turned to Luxe. “Let’s go.”
“Keep us posted!” Fang and Robbie called behind them.
* * *
When they arrived on the corner of Appleby and Foster, Phoenix saw that a crowd had formed in the street, an ambulance parked out front. He watched his father pull up in his car and jump from it, still in his suit. Blake stood on the lawn with one of his friends, a blanket around each of their shoulders, talking to an officer who took notes from a notepad while another rocked Cleo in his arms. Blake looked up and yelled something Phoenix couldn’t hear just before their father wrapped his arms around Blake. Then, paramedics emerged from the front door. Someone—no, it couldn’t be his mother—lay on the stretcher that they pushed across the yard, a clear mask over her face.
Phoenix stood with his family, not remembering when he got out of Luxe’s car, nor when he entered the gate. Blake was crying too hard to make out words. Their father sobbed without a word, a weeping Cleo in his arms. They took that person—no, it still wasn’t his mother—away. The McCrackens climbed into their father’s car, driving to the hospital in a massive blur.
When Phoenix’s phone vibrated, he checked it, reading the texts from his friends. He sent them the name of the hospital. It was all he could think to do.
The family sat in the ER, silent, their pale faces stained with dried tears. Phoenix lifted his head at the sound of footsteps, the clicking of heels.
Mom, he thought.
Luxe walked down the hallway, flanked by Fang and Robbie, who’d removed their jackets and loosened their ties. “Are you ok?” she asked. Phoenix stared.
Fang clasped Phoenix’s shoulder. “Sorry, man, but we couldn’t finish the show, not after Luxe told us what happened.”
“Seriously,” Robbie added, shaking his head, “there was no way.”
Phoenix nodded. More footsteps, this time belonging to his aunt, uncle, and cousin. His father stood and he and Uncle Ronan embraced, thumping one another on the back.
“Blake!” called a voice. Blake stood, his friends storming the ER and surrounding him in a crowd. Phoenix sat watching them, grateful for the buzz that filled the room and drowned out the noise in his mind. He could almost say that he was at peace. Almost.
As the evening stretched into night, the room thinned. His family and friends offered their condolences, hugs, and pats before they departed, filing out of the ER one by one. His eyes fluttered as he strained to keep them open.
She’s dead, his Inner Critic whispered. Grab your toothbrush, ‘cause she’s dead.
Phoenix didn’t argue. Instead, he closed his eyes and surrendered to the grog.
25
Dandruff
Blake woke with a start, a sharp pain in his ribs. He lifted his head from his brother’s arm, looking up at him as he massaged his side.
Phoenix shrugged. “Waking you up is hard. By the way, Mom’s doctor is here.”
Blake rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and turned to the man in the white coat. He scrambled to his feet and joined the doctor and his family.
“She’s breathing on her own,” the doctor announced. “She’ll make a full recovery.”
The three McCrackens sighed with relief.
This bad dream will be over soon, he thought with a grin.
“Can we see her, then?” his father asked.
“Unfortunately, I can’t allow that.”
His father’s face fell. “What?”
“She’s requested that she have no visitors.”
“Why?”
“I can’t be certain. However, I must inform you that your wife will be moved to another hospital later on today.”
“I thought you said she was fine?” said Phoenix. “Why is she being moved somewhere else?”
The doctor turned to Phoenix. “This may be hard to hear, but after evaluating your mother, I’ve diagnosed her with major depressive disorder. She’s being moved to a mental hospital.”
Phoenix stared. “She’s not crazy. She just… she was just…”
“I think the events that took place yesterday are evidence enough,” said the doctor. “I think she’s been struggling with this for some time.”
“You can’t make her go!”
“Of course not. She’s going voluntarily.”
Blake had never seen his brother lose the fire in his eyes so quickly. He watched as his father placed his hand on Phoenix’s shoulder.
“Dad, do something!” Phoenix begged. “He can’t do this!”
“It’s her choice,” his father breathed. “If she wants to go, I can’t stop her.”
Blake watched them go back and forth, watched his brother raise his hands and his voice, but heard nothing. His body, his physical shell, was present, but the rest of him, the memories and quirks and feelings that formed his makeup were floating somewhere near the ceiling, observing the chaos that erupted below. Whether or not it was really happening, Blake couldn’t tell. But what was reality, anyway? If it had anything to do with what was unfolding here, he wanted nothing to do with it.
* * *
The days that followed passed in a blur. Blake went to school in a numb silence, and when Thanksgiving break arrived, he locked himself in his room. Sometimes, he lied in bed for hours staring at the walls and the ceiling, the only comprehensible things that remained. When he tired of this, he would escape into the lives of fictional characters in the unread books on his Kindle. He ignored the knocks on his door and kept his phone on silent. His bedroom was the last frontier, the last defense against the anguish of life, and he refused to have it breached. On the third day of break, however, the last frontier was challenged.
He was lying on his back, burning through his twelfth book of the day, when there was a knock on his door. He sat up. It wasn’t soft like his father’s, or curt like his brother’s, but rough and threatening like—
“We know you’re in there!” came Julio’s voice. “Don’t make me have to knock down your door!”
“Julio, calm down!” said Quen. “He’s had a rough week. Maybe we should’ve just stayed at home…”
“Fuck that!” said Julio.
“We’re already here,” said Jamie Tru. “We may as well stay.”
“Please come out!” said Rodney. “It’s no fun without you.”
“I’m not leaving,” Blake answered. “I’m sorry, but I can’t, okay? Please, just go.”
They were silent from behind his door.
“You heard him,” Jamie Tru sighed. “Let’s get outta here.”
Blake listened to their footsteps as they walked down the hall. He hadn’t expected them to give up so easily. Nonetheless, he pulled the covers over his head and resumed his reading. Minutes later, Rascal, who’d been lounging at the foot of his bed, began barking. Blake emerged from his comforter. “What’s wrong? They’re gone, right?”
Rascal shook his head.
“Seriously? Where?”
Rascal lifted his paw and Blake turned to see Izzy crouched in his windowsill, a wicked grin spread across her face. She leapt and collided with Blake, forcing them both to the ground with a loud thump.
“Dandruff!” she exclaimed, pinning Blake to the carpet. “I missed you!”
“Izzy, you scared the shit outta me!”
She examined Blake with her golden eyes. “I can tell you haven’t been outside in days. Your skin’s all dead, like Rodney’s. Oh, which reminds me.” Izzy rose to her feet, strode across the room as though it were her own, and unlocked the door. As Nerds, Inc. poured in, Blake stood. He was surprised to see that Finn was among his friends.
“Hey, Dandruff,” said Jamie Tru, grinning. “How ya been?”
“Why do you keep calling me Dandruff?”
“’Cause all you do is flake,” said Julio, scowling. “You’ve been ignoring all our calls, all our texts, it’s like we don’t even exist. What do you take us for, acquaintances? We were supposed to be hanging out all this week, but nooo, you had to go and become a damn hermit!”
Blake rubbed the back of his head and looked at his feet. “Fair enough. I do have one question, though.” He looked up. “Izzy, how’d you know which window was mine? We have a ton of them.”
“I crawled into your brother’s room by accident,” Izzy answered. “He looked like he was about to kill me, but good thing he didn’t! He told me you were next door, and here I am.”
“Okay, so now what?” Blake asked.
“We’re gonna force you to have some serious fun!” said Izzy, pounding her fist into her palm.
“Whether you like it or not,” Julio finished.
“What we mean,” said Quen, giving Izzy’s fist an anxious look, “is that we don’t want you to be holed up in here forever. We’re your friends. We just wanna hang out.”
“Yeah, and spending the holidays alone sucks,” piped up Rodney. “All you have is your computer, a box of Kleenex, and a secret stash of Aveeno in your bottom drawer. Days like that can be fun, but it’s lame if you don’t take a break and spend time with your friends.” Julio smacked Rodney upside the head. “Ow! What was that for?”
“For that bullshit attempt at making Dandruff feel better,” Julio answered.
“Just hang out with us, ok?” said Jamie Tru.
Blake shrugged. “Fine. What do you have planned?”
“Community service. It’s that wonderful time of the year when everyone rushes to get their hours done at the last minute.”
“And you’re joining us for Thanksgiving,” said Finn. “You need to be with family.”
“And if I refuse?” asked Blake.
“Then you may as well quit Nerds, Inc. right now,” Julio answered. “I don’t know about you, but I prefer to live my life dandruff-free.”
Blake paused and looked at all his friends. He knew they were real, not because he could see them or talk to them, but because he could feel the warmth they radiated. He smiled. “Where are we going first?”
26
Smoke
The last place Blake expected to be taken to was a hospital, but as Jamie Tru explained, Children’s Healthcare of Mirallegra was their favorite place to do community service.
“Every other week, we come here and dance for the terminally ill,” he said as the glass doors slid back and Nerds, Inc. stepped inside.
“It’s a ton of fun,” Izzy added.
“But I can’t dance,” said Blake.
“You don’t have to,” said Quen. “It’s only those two that do. You just have to entertain the patients somehow.”
After the group signed in at the front desk, they split up. Jamie Tru and Izzy entered one room while the others entered another; it was filled with children in hospital beds. A nurse handed him a copy of The Giving Tree and led him to a small girl with auburn hair who lay in a bed farthest from the door.
“This is Tracy,” said the nurse. “Tracy, this is Blake.”
Tracy smiled, exposing her missing teeth. “Hi, Blake.”
The nurse left, and Blake sat at the edge of Tracy’s bed, holding up the book. “Have you read this before?”
Tracy folded her arms. “I’ve heard it a million times.”
“We don’t have to read it if you don’t want to.” He dropped his voice and leaned forward. “You wanna know a secret?”
Tracy nodded.
“You promise you won’t tell?”
Tracy nodded again and held out her pinky. Blake linked his pinky with hers and whispered, “I can remember everything.” He pointed to his templ
e. “I’ve read a million books and they’re all up here.”
“Whoa,” Tracy breathed.
“Do you like Matilda?”
Tracy grinned. “That’s my favorite movie!”
“You’re gonna love hearing it, then.”
Tracy hugged her knees, and Blake recited the novel, his audience gasping and laughing at all the right moments. Hours flew past in minutes, and when he finished with his tale, she was fast asleep. He left The Giving Tree on the bed and left the room with the others.
They walked down the hall and entered the room that Jamie Tru and Izzy had disappeared into. The pair stood in the middle of the floor doing an identical robotic dance. Dubstep played from the stereo at their feet and the patients surrounding them cheered them on. When their dance was done, they bowed and left with the rest of Nerds, Inc.
“You guys are pros!” said Blake as they stepped outside.
Jamie Tru flashed a toothy, dimpled grin. “C’mon, I’ve got a project for us at my place.”
They hopped into the black SUV parked out front and rode to Blair Manor.
“Aren’t we going to HQ?” Blake asked when they skipped their usual route through the kitchen and climbed the staircase instead.
Jamie Tru turned his head back. “No, we’re going to my room.”
They stopped at a door upon which Jamie Tru’s name was written in gold graffiti. When he opened the door, Blake felt his jaw hit the floor. The room was twice the size of the clique’s leader’s back at Blair Tower that summer, and everything, from the massive TV to the crystal chandelier, screamed luxury.
Jamie Tru opened another door and they followed him inside. His closet was the size of Blake’s bedroom and it was lined from top to bottom with shoes of every brand, style, and shade, all organized on racks. Jamie Tru turned to face his friends. “This winter, I’m running a shoe drive for extra community service hours. What we’re about to do is go through all these shoes to find out which fit and which don’t. We’re gonna polish and spray them, too. We want them to look and smell brand new.”
