I emerged from my bedroom in a comfortable, loose T-shirt and fleece pajama pants. With a yawn, I waved at Dad, seated at the table with his laptop. Clara said hello from the kitchen, scrambling eggs over the stove.
“What magic pill do you take every night that gets you up and moving so early in the morning?” I asked, dropping my body with a huff onto the sectional couch. My early morning appearance had nothing to do with being motivated as an early riser. My body simply performed its usual torture of pestering me with unsettled dreams. They weren’t even about Maddie most of the time, and not as vivid as the ones where I awoke screaming. My mind simply felt restless, filtering anxiety-ridden scenarios into dreams that didn’t make any sense. On top of our late return from the concert, I felt beat.
I glanced at Dad. “Are you working?” I didn’t know why I asked.
Dad laughed and scratched his brown head of hair, which was sticking up in random places in the back. “Yeah, that’s the goal. I rose early this morning with what I thought was an epiphany, but turns out, it was nothing more than ongoing writer’s block.” He sighed.
Some things never changed.
Leah and Taylor emerged from their room down the hall only thirty minutes before Nick and Aaron. Like normal teenagers, all of them slept in. From my sleep-deprived position on the couch, I watched Nick and Aaron guzzle the last of the juice, eggs, and cinnamon rolls. They were like garbage disposals, inhaling all the leftovers. Clara beamed, and I couldn’t help but be impressed by her cooking. Personally, I had inherited Mom’s lack of culinary talent.
Aaron plopped down beside me on the couch, his movement knocking the book from my hand. “You came all the way up here to read, huh?” he asked, picking up my book and flipping clumsily through it.
I snatched it back, smoothing the bent pages. “At least I don’t snore through closed doors.”
Aaron threw his arms around the back of the couch, releasing an exaggerated sigh of contentment. “Well, nothing I can do about that. Gotta catch up on sleep when I can. Not a whole lot of that happening at UC Davis, if you know what I mean.” He offered a sly grin.
“Gross…” I mumbled. I thought about Shane again, knowing this would be his life next fall—the hotshot college kid who drank too much, slept too little, and filled his time with a slew of other misdeeds I didn’t want to know about. Not that Aaron fit this bill, exactly. I didn’t know him enough to know for sure. It just made me wonder where I would fit in when it was my turn for college, assuming I made it through these final months of high school. I edged away from where Aaron’s long arms were almost behind my head. We were the only two on the couch, so it was a little ridiculous that he was sitting that close to me.
“Yo, Jackson!” Nick entered the living room, tossing a basketball to Aaron. “How ‘bout some ball?” Aaron caught it, palming the basketball in his hand. He jumped to his feet.
“You know I never say no to a game.” He bounced the ball once. “But are you sure you want to start your day off with a loss like that?”
“Whatever, man.” Nick knocked the ball from Aaron’s hand. “Get your shoes on.”
Aaron held the ball towards me. “Wanna play?”
Before I could respond, Nick interrupted. “I was just thinking a quick game of one-on-one, actually.” He looked over at me and shrugged. “Sorry.” He bent down to re-tie his shoelace.
Aaron squeezed the ball between his hands. “Well, maybe another time then. Your dad said you and your sisters were pretty good.”
“For girls’ basketball,” Nick added. He wasn’t even man enough to look me in the eyes with his insult. Instead, he fiddled with the lid to his water bottle. He was lucky my brain was too tired to retaliate at a normal speed.
“Nick, that’s enough,” Clara said from behind the island in the kitchen. She put down the plate of eggs with an abrupt clatter and folded her arms, giving him a look that only mothers can master. The look suggested they’d covered this topic before.
Flicking my eyes back to my book, I mumbled, “It’s fine. Wouldn’t have wanted to play anyway.” It was the first time I’d heard Clara raise her voice. She usually seemed so even-tempered. I knew her disapproval wouldn’t change Nick’s behavior though. For some reason, his actions were starting to escalate beyond our mutual indifference and I didn’t know why.
Only one weekend, I told myself. I could make it through one weekend with Nick.