Unravel(40)

“She’s not here,” I said.

“Okay… don’t you have any other friends?”

“No.”

He frowned. “No one else?”

I looked away. “Just you.”

“You need more than just me, kid.”

“Or I could just have you and Lana. That’s way better than a lot of friends. It’s simple math, really.”

“How do you figure?”

“My grandma has always told me that she would rather have four quarters worth of friends than a hundred pennies worth of friends.”

“You’re still missing two other quarters.”

“Nah. You two are enough.”

Lachlan grinned. “Who can argue with that?”

He looked back down at his watch then at his car sitting in the driveway and let free a heavy sigh. “We have one more rocket left. Wanna light up the sky?”

My eyes widened and I nodded anxiously.

We kneeled back on the ground. I scratched at a mosquito bite on my leg as Lachlan prepared the last rocket. He lit a match. When it shot up into the sky, I craned my neck and watched the show. He stood next to me. Not once did he take his phone out and look at the time. We were both too caught up in the grand display. It wasn’t bigger or brighter than any of the other fireworks. But it felt like it.

“Happy Birthday,” Lachlan said. “Make a wish.”

I made a wish that every July 19 would be like this. With bright lights and smiles and laughter.

I wished for Lachlan to be by my side for the rest of my life.



16—BLACK HOLE

Someone touches my shoulder.

I gasp and whirl around. Mary is standing beside me.

I’m back at Fairfax. Still outside. Snowflakes cling to my hair and my hands feel like icicles. Remnants of my memory are still there. If I close my eyes and really focus, I can hear the distant echo of fireworks and cheers from a small, twelve-year-old girl.

“Are you ready to go in?” Mary asks.

I stand on shaky legs. “How long have I been outside?”

“For about an hour. You looked deep in thought.”

She has no idea.

We walk inside the dining room. Everything’s cleaned up. There are only a few patients quietly eating. It’s like Amber’s outburst never happened.

I’m still in a daze as we walk back to my room. Fluorescent lights above us cast my skin in an unhealthy shade of yellow. I walk inside my room. The lights are already on. I stop short and look around.

I just came back from a memory so innocent and wonderful. My reality, living at Fairfax, is the complete opposite. I don’t want to be in here.

I go through my nightly routine: bathroom. Wash my face. Change clothes. And when I’m done, Mary’s in my room with medication in one hand and a small cup of water in the other. Except tonight I go through the routine feeling numb. My mind won’t pull away from Lachlan and twelve-year-old Naomi.

“Get some sleep,” Mary urges. She turns off the light and shuts the door.

Not even a second later I see Lana’s dad in the corner.

He’s seething with rage. He’s crouched down, ready to attack at any moment. My heart skips a beat but I don’t react. The medicine is doing its job. It’s making me not care. But Lachlan’s visit is more powerful than anything.

And he, Lana’s dad, knows that. His voice gets louder. On another night, it can terrify me… but not right now. Right now it drifts past me and all his vicious words start to fade until they become a distant echo. My skull feels like it’s sinking into the pillow. I’m drifting further, until I’m being pressed down into the mattress. It’s like I’m free falling, pushing past the floor and the frozen ground. I keep moving, watching years of my life pass in front of me.

I want one more memory. Maybe I’m greedy and asking for too much, but I want to see Lachlan again.

My body stops moving. I close my eyes, and I dream.



17—SILVER LINING

“Lachlan. Good to see you. Is it summer break already?”

“No,” I groaned and laid my palm against my forehead. “I sound like an idiot.”

I took a deep breath and tried again.

“Oh. Hey, Lachlan. How are you? I totally forgot you were coming home.”

I’d been practicing my reaction and what I would say to Lachlan for the past hour. I was laying down in the treehouse, staring up at the clear, dark sky. There was freedom here to say my words without embarrassing myself.

Lana told me to practice what I would say to Lachlan. Yesterday, she sat with me up in my room, telling me that she did this any time she’s nervous about meeting someone new. She swears by it. But the technique wasn’t working for me. I was no closer to controlling my shaky voice than I had been hours ago.

It was that time again. Summer. Where Lachlan would come home from college and everything in my life would slide back into place.

He left for college last year. I remember the night before he left, sitting up in that treehouse, knowing that things were going to change. Big time. He was going to outgrow me. Of course he was. What 18-year-old would want to keep talking to a 13-year-old girl?

I told him that I wanted to go with him. Lachlan just sighed and tugged on my braid and said: “You can’t, kid. You gotta stay here and get older, wiser and smarter.”