Carter
Carter, 14
Declan, 17
There's a knock at my bedroom door and I immediately pull my blankets up over myself. Even though I've lived with Kara for some time now, I haven't gotten out of the habit of always being on edge. At Tish's, nobody knocked. They'd just open the door and walk straight on back to her room. Even if they didn't do that, nothing would happen because I could just go find Boone. But Boone's not here …
No. I'm fine. I'm safe. I have Kara and Gabe now. Plus, I do still have Boone—he's just not my neighbor anymore.
"Hey, it's me."
I relax at the sound of my brother's voice. Tonight is the first time he took up Kara's invitation to stay the night. He's never even been here before or really spent any time with Kara and Gabe. Whenever I've tried to set anything up, he always bails on us.
"You can come in," I call.
Declan opens the door, doing his best not to blind me with the light from the hallway, and then closes it behind him. He walks over to my bed and sits down. "Hey."
"Hey," I say back.
He shifts until he's lying beside me, on top of the covers. He's wearing a pair of Gabe's sweatpants and one of his shirts. They're huge on Declan, literally hanging off of his bony frame. Declan's become so thin, so unhealthy.
"It's quiet," he tells me, as if that were to explain something.
"I'm sorry?"
His raspy laugh sounds as if it needs to be oiled. "I was layin' in bed and it was so quiet. Couldn't hear anything. I'm used to—well, the sounds of a trailer park. You don't hear that here."
"No," I say. "It's nice. It took me some getting used to, but it wasn't hard." It was easy, actually. I fell right into a perfect sleeping pattern without the dogs barking, the slamming doors, the revving engines, the talking, the sex noises.
"Maybe for you," he says, almost sadly. He tucks his arms behind his head. "This place is actually pretty awesome, you know?"
"Isn't it?" I close my eyes, trying to hide the pride swelling up in my heart. I don't want to make Declan feel as though he doesn't have enough or as if he didn't give me enough. I'm just glad to hear him sound like he's happy I'm here. Sometimes I feel selfish for having my new life.
"Yeah, Carter. I wish I had a sister to come swoop in and save me."
"Kara wants to save you, too, Declan. She's said she'll let you stay here and everything. She might not be your sister, but she wants to be."
"Doesn't happen like that, Carter."
"Boone's like your brother."
"But that doesn't make him your brother, right? I know how you feel about him, Carter." He lets out a long sigh. "My point is, sometimes things don't work out so simply. I'm probably not meant to have a place like this or a chance like this."
"So you're just not going—"
"The place is nice, all right," he says. "I was just tryin' to say I'm glad you're good here. I don't want to get into a discussion about my own life. That's for me to worry about."
"I'm sorry," I automatically say. I don't want to scare him away. He's always only half-existed in my life. I don't need to give a reason to permanently go away.
"It's okay. I'm sorry, too." He moves one arm from beneath him and takes my hand in his. "It's just that … you're the only thing good in my life. I remember how I used to crawl into your crib with you. I was so scared something would happen to you or I'd miss something, so I refused to leave you alone. I guess I didn't want to be alone, either. I'd never had anything special in my life until you came along. I loved when I didn't really know what love felt like. You were my baby sister, and I wanted to be a big brother to you."
"You're still my big brother," I remind him softly.
"Yeah, but I don't get to crawl into your crib anymore, do I? I don't have to worry about you leaving me alone as much as I need to worry about me disappearing." He squeezes my hand. "I've been a shitty brother, and I don't know how to stop it. I'm sorry for what I said to you. I shouldn't have—you need to be somewhere where you can start a life. A real one with fences and dogs and a family and all that other shit. I can't give that to you, and it was wrong of me to resent you for moving out. I might be your big brother, but I guess your big sister's better fit to take care of you."
"You took care of me just fine, Dec."
"Thanks for sayin' that, Carter. You've always known what to say to me and when to make me feel better, even if it's a lie. This time, though, that's not the case. Boone's always taken better care of you than I have. Everybody takes better care of you than me. You even take better care of yourself than I do."
"I don't mind."
"I know you don't. But I do." He swallows, and I can almost hear the emotion he's forcing down. "I love you, kid."
"Well, I love you more."
"Sometimes that's what I'm afraid of," he says.
#
My cheek is cold and burning, wet and achy. The rest of my body feels numb and immovable. Where am I? Why do I feel like this? My mind can't seem to function; it's just acting on a series of garbled questions.
Ringing suddenly fills my ears, and I try to move my hands to grope at my head—to make the noise go away, but I can't. I have to listen to it, praying it won't shatter my eardrums or my brain or make me go crazy.
"This bitch better do what you say she will."
The deep, slurred voice echoes through my head, ricocheting with the ringing. I'm not alone? There's someone here? Why aren't they helping me? I try to force words out, something close to "help me," only nothing comes out except for a moan.
"She's awake," the voice says. "Try again."
A figure moves in front of me then bows down for me to see. Through my blurry vision, I recognize her. Tish. Her hair is messy and cut in what looks like a homemade bob. She's aged decades since I’ve last seen her, but there's no missing those eyes. They're the same eyes I've spent my whole life searching for love in.
"Try again," the voice commands. "Get the money from her so we can leave."
"She ain't got it in her wallet," Tish hisses. "I told you her daddy's where it's at."
"Yeah, well, you led us to her, so she's gotta give it."
Their conversation allows my mind to clear enough to remind me what happened after I left Boone's place. It wasn't dark yet—although it's dark now—and I thought I would be fine if I walked to the cemetery. After reading Boone's letter, I wanted to see Declan. I just needed to feel him with me again. But right now, the only thing I feel is my face pressed up against Declan's gravestone.
I was talking to Declan when I heard them walking up behind me, arguing. Then he was yelling at me about how he wanted the money Tish owes him. I kept trying to explain I didn't have any money, and I finally realized my only option was to run, and then …
Bang.
My shoulder throbs. He shot me.
"Get it now, Tish, before she bleeds to death and we're in jail for murder."
"If she does, it'll be on you, Ronnie."
"And you'll be the accessory," Ronnie reminds Tish.
Tish squeezes her fist, her unkempt, jagged nails digging into her skin. "Your daddy promised me money and he ain't paid up. It's time for me to collect, so I can pay my collectors," she sneers at me.
"I-I—" I swallow, the pain so intense bile rises in my throat. "I don't ha-have anything."
She shakes her head and points at me with her finger. "Yeah, you do. You hafta. Your daddy's loaded—trust me, I know. So you're gonna pay me, or Ronnie here's not gonna be happy with either of us."
"I don't have hi-his money," I stutter. "He-he doesn't p-pay me."
"She's lying," Ronnie says. "I swear to God, Tish, if you don't fucking—"
"Shut up, Ronnie."
There's a click, then, "You don't tell me to shut up."
I don't want to look at Ronnie. He's not the guy from the gas station—he's not even on the same level. This guy sounds big and angry and serious. The fact that he's on something only makes that worse. When he walks into my line of vision, I have no choice but to see him. He's wearing a pair of jeans and no shirt, with a huge, heavy flannel coat. His head is shaved, and he's wearing a knit cap. His eyes are black, probably the same shade as his soul, and he's baring his rotted teeth.
His aim moves from Tish to me. I don't know what the point of this is. If I don't have the money, threats won't help. It's not going to make Tish do anything, either. She doesn't love me. I don't even really think trying to appeal to her as my mother would help. The only motherly thing she's ever done for me is carrying me for nine months and giving birth to me. She used to yell at me for even calling her mom or mama.
I'm Tish, you little bitch! Tish!
"We found a checkbook in your purse and a twenty. You wanna tell us how much else you got?" Tish asks.
Fifteen-thousand. I haven't spent a penny of the money I've saved since I started working. All of the money my dad "gave" me for college is with Kara. That fifteen-thousand could go a long way for Tish and Ronnie if they knew how to stretch it, but they don't want to stretch anything. They want to use it all, and they want to use it fast. If I offer them what I have, they'll want more.
Why did Declan have to be the one to die?
It's the first time I let myself think the thought. I felt so guilty when it first crossed my mind. I didn't want to wish death on Tish. But now? Maybe I do wish she'd been the one to overdose instead of Declan. The world is worse because she exists. She only takes up space and air and leaves destruction in her path.
Despite all of Declan's faults, at least he could love people.
"How much?" Ronnie demands.
"F-Fifteen," I manage to say.
"Shit," Ronnie says. "Still lyin' to us, bitch?"
He kneels down. The gun is shaking in his hand, but he's focused on me. His body might be failing him, but his mind's not. He will kill me.
God, what if I die here? Maybe he won't shoot me, but what if I bleed out? I don't even know if Declan's spirit is really here. Maybe I'll just be alone. And, oh God, what about when Boone, Kara, and Gabe find me …
No, this can't happen.
"Give us something else, something better."
I wrack my brain for something. Anything. If I do die, I want to go down fighting. I want to be brave again, as I was with the mace. But I don't have my mace. I barely even have myself. I feel as if I were on the fringe of reality.
"W-Wallet—secret—"