“I know,” she replied. She may know that but it didn’t mean she was ready to change it. Or even that she knew how to change it. “I’m tired, Kai, I need to sleep.”
I stood up and pulled the cover right up to her chin. “Night,” she whispered.
“Night, princess.”
Once she’d fallen asleep I followed Alison and Ava downstairs.
“Is there anything we can do?” Alison asked.
Maybe. I was going to have to try something. I couldn’t watch her do that to herself over and over. But I was terrified that I’d push her away. “I’m going to take her to my mum.”
Alison’s eyebrows knitted together. “Why?”
“She’s a bereavement counsellor. She trained shortly after my brother died.”
Why did I just tell them that? I only really spoke about Isaac to my family.
Alison’s head cocked to the side and she got that look on her face. “I’m very sorry to hear about your brother.”
“Thank you. It was a long time ago now. It’s how I know what to do when she gets like that, how I know that there’s little we can actually do until she’s ready. I was exactly the same as her when Isaac died. Worse, actually.”
“That’s awful. Do you mind if I ask what happened?”
“He had leukaemia. He’d just turned six when we found out. There wasn’t a match.” I wasn’t a match. I was supposed to fix it.
Alison’s eyes filled with tears. “He was just six.”
“It was awful. Everything happened so fast. We expected to be told he had a virus and be given antibiotics but it was barely two months from being diagnosed that he died.” I brushed my fingers over the dog tags hanging under my t-shirt. “We thought he was going to be okay. He seemed fine, besides throwing up and telling us he ached. When he was diagnosed he went downhill fast, lost weight, wanted to sleep a lot and got bad headaches. When he died I lost it. I was fifteen and so angry at everyone and everything that I did whatever it took to block out the guilt and the pain. Tegan’s no different, nothing she does is because she’s a bitch, or whatever she calls herself, she’s just trying whatever she can to stop it from hurting.”
Ava wiped her eyes. “How long did it take you to heal?”
She wanted me to say a few months, a year tops. It took me almost four years to admit my life was in the shit and I needed to change and a few months to fully leave my old life behind. Then it was almost another year until I resembled anything I used to, only now in grown-up form.
“I went off the deep end at fifteen and I was twenty when I could say I’d fully sorted myself out.” Ava winced. Definitely not the answer either of them wanted.
“I don’t know if I can watch my daughter do this to herself for the next four years,” Alison said.
“It’s different for everyone.”
“Simon would know what to do with her. They were so close, always playing music together or going to car shows. Most things I learnt about my daughter I learnt through Simon telling me. I worry that she doesn’t feel that she can talk to me.”
“I don’t think she feels like she can talk to anyone right now. I’m hoping my mum will be able to change that, she’s had a lot of experience with grieving children and teenagers.”
“Thank you, Kai,” Alison said.
I nodded once. “I understand that I’m probably not your first choice of friend for her but I do care.”
“I can see that and I’m sorry for how we’ve both behaved in the past.”
“It’s forgotten.”
We stayed talking until late and Alison asked me to sleep over in case Tegan woke up. I slept on the sofa and woke up with a crick in my neck. Tegan stood in front of me, smiling sheepishly.
“Hey, you okay?” I asked.
She nodded. “Are you?”
Stretching my neck out, I replied, “I’m fine.”
“I’m sorry about last night.”
“No apologies. You must have a wicked headache.”
She groaned. “I’ve already taken some paracetamol but it does feel like I’m being sledgehammered from the inside.”
I wanted to make a self-inflicted joke but, really, who the fuck was I to say anything. Alison and Ava stopped behind Tegan, they seemed to be joined at the hip.
“How’s your head now, honey?” Alison asked her daughter.
Tegan smirked and repeated my words, “I hate it.”
I gave her a dark look. “Very funny, princess.”
“It was actually.”
“You should get some more sleep, you look tired still and I’m taking you to see my mum today.”
She frowned and pursed her lips. Confusion suited her. “Don’t you think it’s a little too soon for that?”
“No, I think we’re ready for it.” She laughed again. “My mum’s a bereavement counsellor,” I said, watching for her reaction.
Her face paled and after a minute she nodded slowly. “Okay.” Alison gasped, not hiding her shock at all, but Tegan ignored it and asked, “How long has she been doing it?”
“She’s fully qualified if that’s what you’re worried about.”