Regan rubbed her forehead. “This day just keeps getting better and better.”
Caroline frowned at her. She instantly felt guilty because she knew it was only that her sister was trying to make her feel better. Well, that, and Caroline wanted to show off in front of Jeremy. She grunted and moved into position next to her sister.
“All right. Press PLAY,” she said, then glanced at Jeremy. “You better eat it up because you will never see this again, got it?”
“Oh, I’ve got it.” He smiled brightly.
Caroline started the movie, and the melody to “We’re All in This Together” filled every inch of the living space.
Jeremy sat transfixed, watching the sisters pump their arms and twirl around in sync, belting an unfamiliar tune he was desperate to learn. It may have been a little cheesy, but the sentiment was right. The longer they danced, the more he yearned to be part of their “togetherness”—to have a definitive place in their lives. Yes, both of them. Regan had long since captured his heart. Now her little sister held it, too, and he swallowed hard, forcing down the longing for a sibling of his own.
He didn’t want to go home. He didn’t want to walk through the door to his lonely apartment. He wanted to sit forever in that club chair, watching the girls, wishing their mother would invite him to stay for dinner.
The song ended, and Caroline high-fived her big sister.
She huffed and puffed. “What’d you think?”
Jeremy cleared his throat. “I—” He looked at Regan, and then his look turned into a gaze. He knew his mouth was hanging open. He knew he was making her uncomfortable, the way she shifted nervously from foot to foot. He couldn’t help it. She compelled him to stare. Hard.
“Well?” Caroline urged.
“I thought it was awesome,” he whispered.
Caroline squealed. Regan blushed and shook her head.
“We’re so dorky,” she said.
“Speak for yourself,” Caroline replied. “Jeremy? Do you wanna watch the whole movie? I can start it over.”
“Jeremy doesn’t want to watch—”
“Yes,” he said, cutting her off.
“Are you for real?” Regan asked.
“Mmhmm.”
“Uh . . . don’t you have to work today?”
“Nope.”
“Uh . . . don’t you have homework?”
“It can wait.”
“Uh . . . don’t you—”
“You trying to get rid of me?” he asked lightly.
“No no! It’s just, you don’t have to watch this because my sister asked you to.”
“I know. I want to.”
He could see her wheels turning—working overtime to try and figure out what the hell he was doing. She moved to the couch deliberately, chewing her bottom lip as she thought and thought.
The movie began, and Caroline lay her head in Regan’s lap. Regan absently played with her sister’s hair, every now and then stealing looks in Jeremy’s direction. He hid the grin as best he could. But he couldn’t suppress the smile when she invited him to stay for dinner.
~
It’s hard when you make a plan to kill people—work tirelessly to get all the details sorted out—spend hours of your life seething and churning and cultivating the much-deserved hatred—convince yourself of your duty to fellow sufferers—and then have a good day.
A really good day.
~
He stood in the middle of a circle of trees. They were evenly spaced like numbers on a dial—all twelve accounted for. No natural occurrence, he decided. Someone planted them like that, coercing a bit of order in an otherwise chaotic forest. He wasn’t sure he liked it, but he stood in the center of the trees anyway, pondering his next move.
The rifle lay thick and heavy in his hands, and he wasn’t sure he had the strength to lift it, position it securely against his shoulder, and absorb the shock of its discharge. Not today, anyway. He couldn’t focus. He looked at the targets sway right then left, back and forth—taunting him. Playing a game—a game without frontiers. Try your best, they teased. We’ll evade you. He thought he wanted them to, and then he could drop the gun, wash his hands of the imaginary blood, and head for her house where he would gladly hide. Forever.
He shook his head then looked up. Clouds everywhere. Milky blue stretched as far as he could see. Winter was coming. He thought nature would skip fall altogether.
Who needs it? he thought, itching for the snow. Itching for release on the slopes where he could clear his brain, gain better perspective of his current situation and his future plans.
Regan. Every time he thought of her, something moved in his mind—a cog lifted and slid onto the right bolt. A wheel finally rotated in the correct direction. Wires repaired themselves. Like his mind was healing itself. Or perhaps it was Regan who acted as doctor. He imagined her fingers tinkering with his brain, carefully lifting the fragile nerves like she was playing a game of Pick-up Sticks, discarding the damaged cells and replacing them with new ones—ones to fire strong, healthy electrical pulses. To help him think more clearly. To show him love.
He shook his head again, but he could not rid his mind of the image of her dancing. It was silly and innocent and all the things he thought his life should have been—all the things any kid’s life should be. He envied what he knew she experienced as a young girl: laughter, play, love of family, friendship, hope. He envied her now—the girl who found herself again. The girl confident in who she was.