After arriving back home, Mom went straight into the kitchen with Dad. Logan sat on the couch watching TV. “Someone pissed Mom off.” Logan looked up at me sideways.
“You pissed Mom off, Dumb Head.” I patted him on the head.
“What?” he exclaimed, taking his feet off the coffee table and sitting rigid.
I laughed at him, always trying to keep his standing with Mom and Dad on the up and up. “Calm down, your status is fine.”
Indistinguishable voices came from the opposite side of the kitchen door; I approached and rested my ear on the door.
“She did all of that for the flu, Richard, the flu. She is completely out of control,” Mom yelled.
“Maybe she’s just—”
“Maybe she’s just what? Maybe she’s a rebellious teenager.”
“Maybe something is really wrong with her,” Dad said with a worried tone.
“We just got back from the hospital.”
“Maybe something is wrong with her head, Lisa.”
My mouth parted as I stole a gasp from the air. I didn’t listen anymore; I turned my back, and walked upstairs.