You're to Blame(2)

I wave her off, grabbing my purse strap and crossing it over my body. “I plan on going home to catch up on some sleep. Maybe do a little homework.”

I have zero intentions of going anywhere tonight that doesn’t accept sweatpants as an appropriate choice. Comfy is my nighttime style these days. Between school, my internship, and daily hospital visits, I barely have time to remember to feed myself, let alone doll myself up to pretend I’m having a good time.

“You and I both know he’d want you to go have some fun, and your girl, she screams fun from every pore of her body. She won’t take no for an answer, so good luck dodging her.” She pats me on the back and shoves me towards the door.

The gleam in Mrs. Matthews eyes says it all. She’s proud of the coercion she’s cooked up with my best friend.

I step out of the room, and shake my head in a slow, soft rhythm. This is all too much. The admiration and the guilt are in constant competition these days for who will be the lucky one to take the final blow and put me out of my misery.

Mr. Matthews sits on a bench near the elevator beside Wes, Jacob’s brother. They are closer than any brothers I know. When college applications were due, it had come as no surprise Wes chose Greystone. Like me, he’s a freshman and the closest thing I have to a brother myself. The moment his bored gaze lands on me, he jumps from the bench and wraps me in a tight squeeze.

“Hey, sis,” Wes whispers into my hair.

“Hey, Wesley.” I lean back and peer into his blue eyes, a near duplicate of Jacob’s icy color.

“You know how much I hate my full name.”

“What are older sisters for?”

“Well, for one, you aren’t my sister. Yet.” He winks. “And you’re only older by six weeks. It hardly counts, Char Char.”

At the mention of the possibility of Jacob and me getting married, my chest tightens.

Wes walks backwards, his hands out wide at his sides. “Rachel’s looking smoking hot, by the way. Saw her lurking around the downstairs lobby, giving doctors heart attacks.” He pumps his closed fist in front of his chest.

“Want to come out with us? Keep her in line?”

Please take me up on the offer. Please, for the love of God, come out with us and take all the pressure of going out away. She’ll focus on you and not me.

“I’ll pass tonight. You call me if you get too out of hand and need a ride from your little brother.” Wes passes to Jacob’s room, a devilish grin on his face.

I face Mr. Matthews. “So, you really have to leave?” I fret, afraid of what it will be like to care for Jacob on my own.

We’ve all done our best in balancing our own responsibilities around visits, and even though Wes will still be here, too, some of us know how to juggle better than others.

I witness Wes’s shoulders sag when he opens the door to Jacob’s room. Worry shadows his eyes when he looks at his older brother lying in the hospital bed. No one can hold it against Wes for not always being present even when he’s there.

“We’ll be back on the weekends and during the week when possible.” He draws in a long, exhausted breath, pulling me back into our conversation. His gaze dances beyond my shoulder to Jacob’s door. “It’s going to be hard to leave him, but we’re running out of options. All of our vacation time has been depleted.”

“I’ll be here,” I offer. “And you’re only a few hours away.”

My attempt to calm his nerves is futile. My words don’t make me feel better, so why in the hell would it bring any peace to Mr. Matthews?

“I know you will, sweetie, and it helps knowing he won’t be alone. We wouldn’t know what to do if he didn’t have you.” He pulls me in for a hug. My arms lay limp, stuck under Mr. Matthews’. When he leans away, his eyes darken. His unwavering fear causes my throat to close. “Have a good time tonight, okay?”

Somber music plays as the elevator descends to the main lobby of the hospital. It feels impossible to keep this all up. When the Matthews look at me, they see perfection, a girl worthy of their precious son. What if sometimes I don’t want to be that girl? Being worthy of someone isn’t the problem. It’s the flawless version they see through rose tinted glasses that haunts me.

The cool metal on the elevator panel is a forgiving sensation against the heat rolling off my skin. Once the doors open, my best friend will be waiting for me. I can never be prepared for the fire storm that is Rachel.

With heavy steps, I exit.

Rachel jumps from the chair and runs her hands up and down her hips in display. “It’s about damn time. I thought I was going to kill a few doctors with this outfit.”

“The no underwear is a nice touch.” I link my arm through hers and rest my head on her shoulder. Relief is always found beside her.

“I’m not a savage,” she scoffs. “I have on underwear. They just happen to give the illusion they aren’t there because of the thin material and nude hue.” Even without seeing her, my instincts tell me she’s wiggling her eyebrows with pride.

Rachel and I grew up together. Jacob says she’s my other half. I’ve learned I need people like her around. Sometimes I find it impossible to speak loudly in defense of myself when needed. Rachel, well, she’ll stand up for herself and everyone else without a second thought. She’s a ballbuster. She roars when the rest of us back down.