“I drank. I got drunk. I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have said it was okay for Charlie to drive. How is he?”
Cadence looked at her dad for the first time. He shook his head ever so slightly, and she turned back to her brother.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I think I heard he’s fine.”
She hated the way her lie sounded. She hated that she had to do it. But they were all aching for his recovery, and a lie would help it along faster. What did it matter who lied?
“We’re in big trouble, Cay,” Oliver said.
“No you aren’t. You’re not in trouble.”
He nodded, unconvinced. “Big, big trouble. Will I have to go to juvie like you?”
Cadence cringed. “No, Ollie. No one’s sending you to juvie.”
“I’m tired of my life,” he said.
She smiled sadly. “You’re too young to be tired of your life.”
“I miss Kim.”
“I know you do.”
“I think I need a change.”
“Don’t we all?” She looked him over. His head was wrapped. His eye was bruised shut. He had a deep gash in his cheek, freshly stitched. His arm was broken.
“I was knocked out,” he said after a moment. “I don’t remember anything.”
“You don’t need to remember it,” Cadence replied. But she knew at some point he would. He would recall little pieces here and there until he could put the puzzle together. It may not be a whole picture, but it would be enough to give him a memory. A bad one.
“Will you stay the night with me?” he asked.
“Of course.”
“Will you tell Mom and Dad to go away?”
Cadence tensed. “I don’t know, Ollie. They’re worried about you just as much as I am.”
“Will you tell them to go away at night? I just want you here.”
She agreed and looked at her father once more. He nodded as the tears fell.
Mrs. Miller raised hell when nighttime rolled around. She urged her husband to fight Cadence, force her to let them stay. Cadence never saw her mother so angry. She tried to talk to her—explain that it was Oliver’s decision—but Mrs. Miller ignored her on the way out the door.
Mark left after he dropped off dinner. Cadence needed time alone with her brother, and he hoped their conversation would change her heart. Maybe soften it. Maybe allow her to recognize her own self-destructive behavior and gather the courage to walk away from it.
“Did you really mean what you said?” Cadence asked.
“What did I say?” Oliver replied.
“That you’re tired of your life?”
Oliver nodded. “I’m unhappy. And none of this crap I’m doing is helping at all. Just a temporary fix.”
“Most sixteen-year-olds aren’t smart enough to recognize that,” Cadence pointed out.
“Yeah. Most nineteen-year-olds aren’t either.”
“Clever.”
“Wasn’t trying to be,” Oliver said.
“So what? Now you have the authority to tell me to get my life together because you’re lying in a hospital bed?”
“That’s usually how it goes,” Oliver replied.
Cadence laughed. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
“You wanna end up in a hospital bed?”
“No.”
“All right then.”
“It’s not like I’m out of control or anything,” Cadence argued.
“Cay, I’m not a freaking idiot. I know you’re being reckless. And I get it. You’re lashing out because you’re angry with Mark just like I lashed out at Mom and Dad because I was angry with them.”
“You’re perceptive.”
“Nobody has to be perceptive to see that. It’s, like, totally obvious,” Oliver said.
“So you aren’t mad at Mom and Dad anymore?”
“Of course I’m mad. I’m pissed at them. But I was hurting myself over it. And you’re doing the same thing. I mean, look at you. You’re a mess.”
Cadence looked down at her shirt. “I am?”
“Everything about you. You look like shit, Cay. I’m just being honest. You’re ugly.”
“Like an ugly heart?”
“No, I mean you’re just plain ugly. Bags under your eyes. Aren’t girls supposed to put lotion and shit on their faces?”
Cadence cupped her cheeks with her hands.
“You’re all sallow-looking,” Oliver observed.
“Sallow? How the hell do you even know that word?”
“I’m smarter than you. I’ve always been smarter than you,” he replied.
She rolled her eyes. “I suppose I’m slightly sallow.”
“You’re off-the-charts sallow. You used to be really pretty. What happened to you?”
“Mark,” she replied before she could stop herself.
“Nice try. Who are you? Avery? Stop blaming him for your bad choices.”
Cadence bristled. “He lied to me!”
“Cay, get over it. It’s not like he kept some horrible secret about being a serial killer or rapist or something. He had a wife, and she died. Why can’t you be a little more understanding?”
“He said awful things to me.”
“When you guys were arguing? Yeah. That sounds about right. Most people say awful things when they’re arguing,” Oliver explained.
“I didn’t say awful things to him,” Cadence whispered. “He made me feel like I have no worth.”
Oliver thought for a moment. “No. You’ve convinced yourself you have no worth. I know what Mark said to you, and I can understand how you would interpret it the way you did. But I know that’s not what he meant.”