Live Through This (20 page)

He already knows the answer. He caught me when I was gathering my bedding to take back downstairs this morning.

“Yeah,” I say, pulling a bowl from the cupboard. “I accidentally fell asleep.”

“And your pillow and sleeping bag accidentally made their way to the couch with you too?”

I don’t know what to say. There is no logical reason for me to be sleeping up here. Nothing that I can tell him or anyone else, I should say. And it isn’t even like this couch is super comfy or there isn’t a perfectly good TV downstairs. Unless I say that Bryan and I couldn’t agree on what to watch. . . .

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Tony says, “but your mom
and I have noticed that you’ve seemed kind of run down for the last week or so.”

“Thanks a lot.” I force a laugh as I add water to my oatmeal packet, and put the bowl in the microwave. “I’ve been tired, getting back into things with school and practice and everything.”

It’s all true, but Reece and I have also been texting until three a.m. for the past couple of nights while I keep an eye out for Emma. Now we’re both having to resort to Starbucks quadruple shots to keep from sleepwalking through school.

“You mentioned that you had a nightmare at Whistler,” Tony says. “Is that still going on?”

It’s nice that he cares, but I don’t want to talk about this. What’s going to stop him from asking me these questions? What can I say to make him put this out of his mind? Because this is over, as of this morning. It’s finally Friday, and I’m staying the night at Ming’s. By tomorrow night Bryan will be gone and everything can go back to normal

“I’ve had a few bad dreams,” I tell Tony, “but it isn’t a big deal.”

“Maybe it is, though. Maybe it’s a sign that you’re stressed or, I don’t know. I don’t know much about psychology. But you could talk to someone. A therapist—”

“No!”

“—or your mom or Bryan?”

“The whole truth,” I say, “is that I watched a scary movie at Piper’s a couple of weeks ago and it’s making me all weird at night.” I wave my hand Jedi-mind-trick-style. “There’s nothing to worry about, though. These aren’t the droids you’re looking for.”

He smiles like I knew he would, but it fades quickly. “You’ve always been sensitive to horror movies and such. Maybe you should make it a policy to not watch them.”

“Or maybe I should watch them
more
to desensitize myself.” I pull my oatmeal out of the microwave and pour milk over it. “What time is Bryan’s flight tomorrow?”

“We ended up just cancelling it. He said he brought home most of the stuff he cares about anyway, so we’ll pay his roommate to ship the rest of it home.”

My spoon falls from my hand and clangs on the side of my bowl. “Ship what? What are you talking about?”

“He didn’t tell you his new plan? Although, I don’t know if I’d call it much of a ‘plan’ now that I think about it. Your brother’s decided he’s going take classes at community college this winter and see what he feels like doing after that. Play it by ear.”

“So he’s staying . . . 
here
?”

Tony smiles, obviously misinterpreting my screeching
voice. “See, I knew you’d be happy about it. And your mom keeps trying to tell me it might not be a bad choice, but it feels to me like he’s throwing away a good thing out there at UConn.”

I stare at my bowl, at the milk that splashed on the counter and my shirt, at my hands, which are now shaking. Bryan isn’t leaving tomorrow. He isn’t leaving at all.

“I’m surprised he didn’t tell you,” Tony says. “He made the final decision last night after dinner. Talk about waiting until the last minute. Well, have a good day at school.”

As soon as he leaves the kitchen, I pour my breakfast into the sink and run the garbage disposal.

•    •    •

The boys’ JV basketball game just ended, so there’s thirty minutes until the start of the varsity game. Dia, Ming, Kimber, and I are by the snack stand. Tonight, the dance team is doing a rare basketball halftime performance, and we’re wearing ponytails, green T-shirts, black shorts, black, green, and silver knee-high socks, and black shoes. As Ming said when we were getting ready in the locker room, we’re totally
working
these outfits.

The woman hands me a coffee over the counter. I already had an energy drink half an hour ago, but it did nothing for me. Every time I close my eyes for longer than a blink, it’s a struggle to open them again. If I allow myself to sit down, it’s going to be all over.

Ming buys a pack of red licorice while I dump sugar and creamer into my cup. It would be better if Reece were here—I never feel this fatigued when he’s with me—but he’s in the gym helping Xander set up drums. They’ll be playing with the pep band, so I won’t get to see him until it’s time to head to Vicki Lancaster’s party after the game.

“Coley, you look stoned,” Kimber says, closing her eyes halfway to demonstrate.

Dia laughs. “You really do.”

Visine drops and concealer have been my best friends lately, but they’re letting me down now, obviously.

I open my eyes as wide as possible. “Better?”

“Now you look like a speed freak,” Ming says, ripping open her candy.

I sigh loudly. “It’s drug-user eyes for me no matter what I do.”

“We’re teasing,” Dia says. “Are you okay, though? You seem kind of”—she puts her hands on my shoulder blades to force my back straighter—“low on pep.”

Garrison and Noah come up next to us wearing their basketball uniforms with warm-ups over their shorts.

“Unbelievable,” I say, forcing a smile and some enthusiasm. “They’re doubting my pep, you guys.”

“And you call them ‘friends’?” Noah says, with mock horror.

Garrison grins. “Don’t worry, Sterling. You’re a peppy chick, and we all
know
you’ve got stamina.”

I have no idea what he means by that—and I don’t think I want to know—so I say nothing.

Noah takes my coffee and brings it to his lips. “Ouch!” He hands it back in a hurry. “Where’d you get that? Out of a volcano?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be in the gym?” I ask.

“Probably,” Noah says. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”

“No, silly,” I say, even though I kind of am; I don’t like the way Kimber’s looking at us.

“You shouldn’t drink coffee before a game,” she says to Noah. I think the tone she’s going for is flirty and cute, but she sounds almost as bossy as Piper. “How about some water?” She holds her bottle out.

Noah slides his arm around me. “I’m good, actually.”

“It doesn’t matter what he drinks,” Garrison says. “He isn’t a starter or anything.”

“That isn’t what your mom said last night.” Noah nods at Ming’s bag of licorice and puts out his free hand. “Hook me up with some Red Dye Forty?”

While she’s handing him a piece, I notice Garrison’s gaze traveling slowly down my body. “Damn, those boots are hot,” he says.

He goes on to check out Kimber, Ming, and Dia in turn, and I feel like gagging.

“Bianchi, are we going to see you and your girls at the Lancasters’ tonight?” Garrison asks Dia’s chest.

“Nope,” Dia says.

“You might see me,” Ming says sweetly. “And my girl, Coley. We’ll be there with our boyfriends, of course.”

Garrison looks at my face, and then at Noah’s. “Of course.”

The gym doors fling open and Robby from their team calls out, “Schultz! Crowne! Come on!”

“Catch you later, Sterling,” says Garrison. As Noah lets me go and they saunter off together, Garrison gestures my way. “You still hittin’ that?”

My back stiffens.

“Nah. Your mom keeps me too busy.” Noah turns to flash a quick smile at me, but I’m too stunned to even consider returning it.

Garrison pushes him. “Shut up with that shit.”

They disappear into the gym, and Dia gives a big shudder. “Bianchi feels like she needs to take a shower now.”

“So does Jeong,” Ming says. “What was stranger, do you think? The fact that Garrison thought our socks were boots or that he thought the so-called boots were actually hot enough to compliment?”

“And what was grosser?” Dia asks. “That he called my boobs ‘my girls’ or that he talked about Coley’s ‘stamina’? Like he would have any clue.”

Ming giggles. “I think it’s a toss-up.”

“Garrison thinks that Noah knows about Coley’s ‘stamina,’ ” Kimber says. “It’s kind of funny that Noah didn’t argue.”

She’s acting like she’s making some casual observation, but it’s obvious that she’s accusing me of something. “What’s funny about it?” I ask. “I have a boyfriend and he isn’t Noah and you
know
that, Kimber.”

I sound calm—I’m sure I look calm too—but my stomach is getting tighter and tighter and tighter every second.

“Maybe you should clue Noah in to that,” Kimber says. “Or do you like leading him on?”

Dia looks back and forth between us. “Meee-yow.”

“Kimber, come on,” Ming says.

I walk away in a hurry, and squeeze my cup so hard that the lid pops off. Hot coffee sloshes over the top, runs down my hand, and splashes onto the floor. I slam the whole thing into a trash can and keep going.

Ming catches up with me before I reach the bathroom. “Coley, Kimber’s just jealous.”

I turn. “And that is
her
problem, not mine.”

“I know. She thinks they had a connection or something.
She’s convinced herself that he’d be with her if it wasn’t for you.”

“It isn’t true, though!”

“I know that too. So, shake it off.” Smiling, Ming grabs on to my wrists and wiggles my arms around. “Kimber can suck it. Oh! Except that Noah won’t let her.”

She laughs at her own joke, but it’s so not funny to me.

“I’m
tired
of this,” I say, rubbing my temples. “I’m tired of Noah playing along with what everyone thinks they know about us. I’m tired of people having opinions at all. I’m just . . . tired.”

Piper comes out of the bathroom. “Coley, is your brother here?”

“He went in the— Wait. Did you say,
my
brother?”

She nods.

“Why?” I sound almost hysterical. “Did he say that he’s coming?”

“No. I just thought that he might show up.”

She walks away, oblivious to the fact that her question shattered every trace of calm that I had left.

•    •    •

Robby makes both of his free-throw shots, putting Kenburn High solidly in the lead by fifteen points. Seconds later, the buzzer goes off and everyone on our side of the gym cheers
wildly. If they can keep it up for the second half, we might win this game.

My team is already lined up at the sidelines, ready for our halftime show. Unlike our school’s cheerleaders who annoy Coach Laine by standing with bad posture and talking, we keep our mouths shut and make her proud with our chins up, shoulders back, and poms in hands on our hips.

The basketball players leave the floor, and the band goes straight into “Tequila.” It’s been our celebration song ever since someone’s parents tried to have it banned last year for being “inappropriate.” We students fought to keep it and won. But tonight—even with everyone around me smiling and pumping their fists—it feels like the worst song I’ve ever heard.

It’s taking everything I have to continue facing forward instead of turning around to see if my brother is in the stands. I let my eyes fall shut and take a deep breath. I couldn’t eat at lunchtime—or all day—because no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop thinking and wondering and worrying about what was going to happen. I’ve been counting down the days, and now there’s no end in sight. I have tonight at Ming’s. And then what? I can’t keep going like this. I can’t stay on the couch forever. I can’t not sleep. Everyone’s noticing. Even Tony.

“Tequila” ends, and I open my eyes.

“Let’s go, girls,” Piper says.

We walk out together onto the shiny wood floor. The center of the basketball court is our stage. For competitions, we have tougher routines that include fewer dancers, but at the games, it’s always all twenty of us together, freshmen included.

Just like the others, I get down on my knees and duck my head. Just like the others, I stand when the music comes on. Just like the others, I hop to my feet when it’s my turn. We step and twirl and line up and kick, kick, kick. I’m feeling it. I’m working it.

I think I am, at least.

Turn, turn, turn. My head feels like it’s spinning out of sync with my body. I miss a beat. I stumble.

Get it together, Coley.

I’m catching up. Back on track. Keep moving, keep turning. I can do this. I have to. I’m
doing
this. I can hardly breathe, but I have to keep going. We’re almost done. So close.

Just like the others, I toss my poms and come to the ground in splits as the poms hit the floor beside me.

I did it. I made it. I push myself up, grab my poms, and walk slowly as everyone else jogs away. After I’m off the court and in front of the stands, dizziness overtakes me and I fall for real this time. Someone trips over me, but catches herself before she hits the floor.

Alejandra. She wasn’t jogging with everyone else.

I look up, and, oh my God. I am going to die right here. Everyone is staring at me.

Without a word, Alejandra helps me up. I shuffle after her, waving at the crowd to let them know that I’m quite all right. We get to the hallway, and the rest of the team has already disappeared.

“What was
up
with you out there?” Alejandra asks, blocking the bathroom door so that I can’t go in.

I look away. “Nothing.”

“What do you mean ‘nothing’? You kept screwing up and I had to pull you up off the gym floor!”

“Sorry for the inconvenience.”

“Coley, I’m serious. Are you okay?”

Coach Laine’s voice rings out from behind me. “Girls! What’s going on?”

“I’m trying to get answers,” Alejandra calls out. “You
had
to have seen her out there.”

“Yes, I did,” Coach says, stepping closer. “Coley, what happened? What’s going on with you?”

I shoot Alejandra a dirty look, and then say to Coach, “I got dizzy for a second. It isn’t a big deal.”

“One of my dancers collapsing on the sidelines is a pretty big deal. Are you sick?” She touches my forehead. “You don’t
feel like you have a fever. Maybe we should have a medic check you out.”