Twelve Steps to Normal(86)
For the first time in a long time, I feel positive about things. I’m not tempted to escape the confines of the house, and somehow—even with everyone here—it’s begun to feel more like home.
I don’t mind that I have every lyric on Queen’s Greatest Hits memorized. I don’t mind the small gasps Peach makes during the most predictable moments of Crime Boss when she sits down to watch with my dad and me, and I don’t mind when I find Saylor quietly meditating in the middle of our dismantled living room, making odd humming noises. Because Saylor helps me with my English essays even though he doesn’t have to and Peach does my laundry because she knows my schedule is crazy during football season and Nonnie shows me wild pictures from her old life in New York.
It’s nice to have people showing they care about you.
Maybe they’re not perfect, but they’re not encouraging bad behavior. And even though I don’t quite understand it, they’re recovering together. I can see the light in my dad’s eyes every time they admit their Small Successes at dinnertime and how he’s trying, really trying, to make this easy on me.
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t glad that I’m part of it.
Jay’s giving me a sideways glance.
“What?”
“Nothing. I don’t know. You just look happy, I guess.”
I turn to the closed door. When I go back inside, I know I’ll be greeted with a slightly charred hamburger bun and Nonnie’s awful dance moves and the gleam in my father’s eye when he tells everyone I helped him make his World-Famous Potato Salad. I find myself wanting to go. To be part of it.
“Yeah.” I feel my lips pull into a smile. “I think I am.”
THIRTY EIGHT
WHETHER IT’S OUT OF FEAR or discomfort, Jay eats lunch with the rest of the basketball team on Monday. Breck joins him, which makes Colton the only guy at our table. He hardly seems to notice, paying more attention to the music in his headphones than our conversation.
“He’s the one making it weird,” Whitney interjects, her gaze over at the basketball table. “I told him nobody here would care.”
I don’t offer up the fact that he came over yesterday. It doesn’t change anything—it’s not as if we’re getting back together.
Raegan waves a hand in the air. “It’ll blow over. You guys were basically in the same place, anyway.”
Whitney glances over at me, then looks away. So she’s talked to Raegan about it. That doesn’t surprise me. It’s not like we talk about things like that anymore.
Lin looks up from her history notes. “But you’re okay?”
Whitney shrugs. “Yeah.”
“Oh,” Raegan turns to me. “You said one of your dad’s friends has a dog?”
“Yeah.” I’m surprised she remembered. “Wallis.”
“Do you think I can borrow him?”
“Uh, why?”
She stares at me like it’s obvious. “Because I’m going to be a sister.”
Lin and I exchange confused glances.
“We just established that Wallis is a dog, right? You were mentally present for that?”
Raegan waves away my sarcasm. “Of course. That’s why I need all the practice I can get. I figure if I’m good at taking care of a dog, then taking care of a baby should be no big deal. They’re both big responsibilities. And my mom is supposedly due this weekend.”
I make a note to never tell Raegan’s future sister that she was once compared to a dog. I know there’s no talking Raegan out of an idea she feels strongly about, so I say, “I’ll ask Nonnie tonight. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
“Your mom must be so excited,” Whitney adds.
“She is. She’s not worried at all.” Raegan sits up a little straighter. “I think everything will go well.”
“It will,” I assure her.
She smiles back at me.
I think back to what my dad had said about getting stuck on certain steps in the twelve-step program. He’d mentioned number 9 stated to make amends with people you’ve harmed. Even though the theory behind my own list wasn’t perfect, I was glad I’d made the effort to be a better friend to Raegan and Lin and Whitney. Things may not be like they were, but at least I hadn’t let those friendships go. The list was good in that sense.
After lunch, Lin and I walk to my locker. I linger there longer than usual, hoping Alex will come around. But of course, he doesn’t.
“Don’t worry,” she says, giving me a quick hug. “It’ll work out.”
I want to believe her, but it’s seeming more unlikely every day. Especially after our last conversation. I can’t blame him for being hurt at the way I acted in the cafeteria, but I’m hurt that he could even think I was ashamed of him. Between exchanging notes written on Starburst wrappers in Mrs. Donaldson’s class and having a very public dinner at Rosita’s, plus all the times we’d walk together in the halls or meet up after school, I don’t understand how he could possibly think that.
Lin agrees with me, but she seems to think time is the answer.
I wish I were a more patient person.
When I get home later that evening, Nonnie is watching TV on the couch while simultaneously trying to instruct Wallis how to shake hands. She has her giant rollers in her hair and is wrapped in her usual zebra-print robe. I flop on the armchair beside her, sore from practice and tired of stressing about Alex.