He holds up his hand. “Before you freak out, yes, the coach knows I had cancer. We’re only using the bag. I’m not in the ring with people. But when I put on those gloves and swing? It’s like when I used to pitch. I know I’m in control, that what happens next all comes down to me. It’s good because things are good, Parker. They’re finally good, okay? Do you get that? I’m sorry you found out this way, but I need you to trust me on this, please.”
I think of how when I’m trying to throw a pot, I’m so focused on making, I forget the anxious voices in my head.
I think of Finn describing boxing, how during the contest I saw the storm in his eyes finally clear.
But then I think of Finn in that hospital bed, of the bruises on his ribs, of how he’s broken.
I think of Charlie sailing across the river, of Charlie letting go, of Charlie leaving us all behind.
I want to trust him, but I’m so scared if I do, if I let go of my grip, something bad will happen to him.
“It’s not that easy,” I start.
“Ugh!” he yells. “Parker, for fuck’s sake, will you give me a break? I’m not like you, doing everything perfectly the first time around.”
I ignore the dig, how wrong he is about me, and shake my head, folding my arms across my chest, holding myself tight. “You can’t box. You have to stop. No more.”
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
“No. You stop now, or I tell Mom and Dad. And I don’t care if you tell them about the internship, Charlie. Do it. I don’t care. If that’s what it takes to keep you safe—”
Charlie cuts me off again. “God, enough already! I was never going to tell them, all right? I’m not going to do that to you!”
I freeze.
“What are you talking about?”
A tall orderly comes over to the two of us, his voice polite. “Um, could you two please keep it down?”
“Not now,” Charlie barks, and the orderly steps back, shaking his head.
I grab Charlie’s arm to get his attention back. “What do you mean you weren’t going to tell?”
“I mean that it’s your decision to share that stuff, not mine.”
I exhale in disgust. “You are unbelievable. This is all a passive-aggressive dig on the fact that you think I tell Mom and Dad too much, isn’t it? You’re not going to tell on me to make a point?”
“I wasn’t going to tell on you because it’s your own fucking business!” he yells, and I flinch, surprise coursing through my veins.
Charlie meets my gaze square on.
“Listen, I get it, okay? I was not happy you got me grounded and into therapy this summer. And the baseball camp stuff last year? I was fucking furious with you. But . . .” He looks away, at the floor, at the ceiling, at the people around us, then back to me, his voice softening. “I get it, Parker. I get that you have to make hard decisions for people when they can’t do it themselves. I get it, okay? But there are also times you need to step back and let people figure it out for themselves, to listen to them instead of ratting them out. That’s how I feel with your internship. The decision to tell is up to you, not me.”
My heart skips at his words, and hot tears well in my eyes. I shake my head. “But you’re blackmailing me because you hate me.”
“I don’t hate you, Parker.”
“But I heard you. With Ruby. You hate me. You said it’s not easy having me as a sister. You said it’s like torture.” My words end in a choked sob.
He rolls his eyes, the height of exasperation. “That’s not at all what I said. What I said was that it was torture watching you do all this shit you hate out of some sense of obligation to me. Because of me, you’re going to be a doctor. Because of me, you spent most of high school studying and taking SAT prep tests and doing all the right extracurriculars. Because of me, you’re going to Harvard. But you hate it. I didn’t deserve cancer, okay? But that doesn’t mean you’re responsible for making that right. And until you get that, we’re both going to be stuck in the shitty in-between place—remember that?”
I nod, caught in the middle of a storm of tears.
“It’s time to stop worrying about my future, Parker, and to start making your fucking own.”
When I meet his gaze, even though he still looks angry enough to burn down the whole city, he’s also crying.
They’re angry tears, the kind of tears that can only come when there’s nothing left holding you back.
In the hallway behind him, I see our parents and Ruby heading our way. They don’t look terrified, so Ruby must have filled them in on what is going on.
“It’s Mom and Dad,” I say to Charlie.
He wipes his wet face with his arm and then turns in their direction, trying to smile.
Ruby grabs his arm, her face worried. “Is Finn okay?”
“Yeah.” He pulls her close, kissing the top of her head.
I look to our parents, trying to get ahold of myself. “I’m so sorry I didn’t call you guys to tell you Charlie was okay.”
“It’s okay, hon. I’m sorry we missed your calls. Your dad and I were at the park and I left my phone at home and his reception was bad.” Mom shakes her head. “I’m just happy to hear Finn’s all right.”
“What happened to him?” Dad asks. “Ruby was saying something about a fight.”
In the split second I’m debating how much to tell Mom and Dad, a girl with white-blond hair walking behind them pauses and does a double take when she sees me.
My heart stops.
It’s Laurel from the internship.
Move along. Move along. Please move along.
But she leans closer. “Um, hi?”
She never remembered my name at the internship. Surely she doesn’t remember me now?
“Um, Parker, right? I’ve been wondering how you were doing. Mono, right?”
No no no no no.
Like it’s been biding its time, waiting for the perfect moment to return, my eyelid twitches.
Mom and Dad have confused looks on their faces, but Ruby’s expression is growing increasingly alarmed, and Charlie’s clearly trying to piece together who Laurel is.
“Not exactly,” I say quickly, “but now’s not really a good time.”
She ignores my attempt at dismissing her. “I was soooo surprised when I heard about you leaving. Getting in was such a competitive process. I can’t imagine how awful it would be to have mono and to miss out on the intern—” she starts right as Charlie moves, blocking Laurel from our parents.
“Guys, I have to tell you something, since I figure you’ll find out soon enough. Parker caught me drinking on Friday.”
Mom turns to him, startled.
My mouth opens, then shuts again, everything around me happening too fast.
“What did you just say, Charlie?” Dad asks.
He shrugs. “I had a bad day at tutoring, so I used my fake ID and bought some Jack Daniel’s on the way home from therapy. Parker found the bottle in the car.”
I try to focus on keeping my balance, the waiting room dizzyingly bright.
“You were drinking and driving?” Dad yells, and Mom’s shoulders fall as she shakes her head, the heartbreak evident on her face.
At that, Laurel cringes, beating a steady retreat. I see Charlie register her departure, and he nods at me, but I’m unable to move, watching the scene in front of me play out like I’m not part of it.
“But, Charlie, we were hanging out on Friday,” Ruby says, and he shakes his head firmly at her.
“That was Thursday night, Roo.”
“I can’t believe you, Charlie,” Dad says, his face as red as Charlie’s was a few minutes ago. “Throwing away your health? It’s selfish and asinine. What is wrong with you?”
Mom clears her throat. “This isn’t the time or place to talk about this, but we’re having a serious conversation when we get home, Charlie,” she says, her voice scarily calm, before turning to Ruby. “We can drop you off on our way, okay?”
Ruby nods helplessly.
“You might as well enjoy the ride now,” Dad says to Charlie, the anger in his voice just barely controlled. “As it’s the last time you’ll be seeing Ruby or anyone other than your therapist and tutor for a long time.”
Mom and Dad start toward the exit, Dad shaking his head in disgust, Mom clutching her purse against her side. Ruby watches them go before turning back to Charlie, pure anguish on her face.
“But you lied,” she says.
Charlie pulls her into a hug. “I’ll explain later,” he says, resting his chin on her head. “It’ll be okay.”
He meets my eyes then, and I shake my head at him, holding myself tight.
“Why?” I ask.
He mouths the words, and they are clear as a cloudless blue sky.
I got you.
Fifty-Four