Chapter 26

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

MARGO

I argued with Mama all morning, so I don't have the energy to fight with Daniel too. Annie refused to talk to me and left for school before I got up. Mama insists that everything is getting out of hand, and she's given me an ultimatum: if I don't tell Annie soon, she will.

I hold my head up high and walk into my first period class with Daniel trailing right behind me, trying to ignore the fact that I'm about to sit right beside him.

I pull my chair out and sit, eyes forward.

Daniel sits next to me and leans over so close his breath grazes my ear as he whispers, "Did you really think it would be that easy to get rid of me?"

Goosebumps flood my arms. My mind wanders back to the night he fell asleep on my shoulder—to when he grabbed my hand in his hair.

I liked it.

But it isn't right. I shake away the thought and choose not to reply. I take out my notebook and science binder. He might be my lab partner, but I don't have to talk to him about anything other than science. Once this hour is up, I can move on to my next class. It'll be easier because he doesn't sit next to me in it.

Thankfully, Mrs. Wilkson takes up the entire class with a presentation on magnetic fields. She rushes to finish the last slide before the bell cuts her off. "Please finish reading chapter twelve tonight. There will be a quiz on it tomorrow," she says as students leave.

Daniel is usually one of the first to leave, but he stays seated, eyes focused on me. I hike my backpack over my shoulder, pretending not to notice, and stand. As soon as I walk away, he pushes his chair out and starts walking behind me, again.

I don't bother stopping at my locker this time. I head straight to my next class, walking down the rows of desks to my usual spot. The seats around me are already filled, but Daniel walks past me, stopping at the desk right behind mine.

"This is my spot today," Daniel says.

My jaw drops, and I spin around.

Jared is already scrambling to get up.

"You don't have to move," I say.

Jared takes one look at Daniel and his tall, rough appearance and cringes. "I don't mind." He scrambles away to find another desk.

Daniel sits down. He smirks, crossing his arms proudly.

I glare back. "Was that necessary?"

Daniel shrugs.

With a huff, I face the front again. He's acting immature, and I'm not about to stoop to his level.

Daniel leans forward. "In case you forgot, we have three classes together."

I grab the bottom of my seat, biting my lip. He'll get tired of this. There's no way he'll be able to keep this up very long. I just have to wait it out.

My phone buzzes, and I keep it low and out of view of our teacher.

Mama:

Have you seen Annie? The school called. She didn't show up to her first class, but her phone location shows she's at school.

I haven't seen her, but I'll try to find her.

What is she up to? She never skips her classes.

For the rest of the day, Daniel tails me like a shadow. When I go to the bathroom, he waits outside. When I have classes without him, he meets me in the hallway directly after. At lunch, he sits at the other end of the table.

How am I supposed to talk to Annie with him next to me at every turn? Even so, I keep my eye out for her. I watch her locker and check the library again, but she isn't anywhere.

After lunch I stop by my locker to switch out my books, but I pause right before I close it. A shiny black screen at the bottom of my bag catches my eye. I double-check to make sure my phone is in my pocket. It is. I set the bag on the ground, open it wide, reach in, and pull out Annie's phone. There's no sound coming from it, but the screen lights up with a call from Mama.

My heart sinks.

I have no idea where Annie is, but she's definitely not at school.

I answer the phone. "Hello. "

"Annie? Why haven't you been answering my calls?"

"It's Margo."

"Margo?" Mama's voice is high pitched and squeaky like she's been crying. "Where's Annie?"

I tuck the phone between my shoulder and ear to free up my hands enough to put my backpack back together. "She must've put her phone in my backpack before she left this morning. She's not here."

"Okay, I'm going to call your father and the bookstore. I'll let you know what I find out." She's trying to mask the nervousness in her voice, but it comes through as clear as day.

"I'm sure she'll show up soon. It's Annie. She never gets into trouble."

"You're right. Everything is probably fine."

I can't pay attention through my final two classes. It's my fault. Annie wouldn't have run away if I didn't hurt her. We would've driven together, singing our hearts out on the way to school. She would've sat next me at lunch, not Daniel.

Mama calls me after school gets out. "She used her card at a coffee shop downtown. We're going to go get her. Do you think you can find a ride home?"

I'm relieved they found her, but I dread how she'll act when she gets back to the house. "Yeah, I'll figure something out."

I sit outside the school with my back against the brick wall while I wait for Cameryn to finish cheer practice. I take out my journal and lay it on my lap. I need to brainstorm how to make this mess up to Annie. I need to come up with something epic, a grand gesture, but my mind is blank. I already have the concert coming up. Maybe I could get her something for it? Or maybe we could buy the outfit she wanted?

Daniel comes out of the school entrance. I figured he'd go catch the bus, but he sits next to me a few feet away.

I sigh, setting my pen down, irritated by how unrelenting he's become. "Don't you have anything better to do?"

He leans his head back and tilts it toward me, letting his tired eyes meet mine. "Can't I miss you?"

My heart races. But it isn't right, so I dig my nails into my palms, trying to force the feeling away. "No. You can't."

I write down some of my ideas below the checklist I already have for my family. Maybe I could buy her a special edition of one of her favorite books. That would be expensive, and it would take awhile to get here. Still, it's a good enough idea to make it onto the page.

"What are you writing?" Daniel asks.

I lean away from him, covering my words with my hand. My list isn't the kind of thing he'd understand.

He plucks the notebook out of my grasp.

"Hey!" I reach for it.

He jumps up, holding it in the air as he glances at it.

I spring to my feet, trying desperately to take the notebook back, but he's too tall.

He turns the page. Then his brows dips together, and he peers over at me. "This is the weirdest bucket-list crap I've ever seen."

The book lowers enough for me to snatch it back and stuff it into my bag. "No, it isn't." I zip the backpack, preventing him from making another attempt to steal it .

His eyes follow my bag. "There isn't one thing on that list for you."

"Of course there is," I say, crossing my arms.

He shakes his head, pointing to it. "No, everything on that list is for other people."

I sling my backpack over my shoulder. "So?"

He steps closer. "So? Shouldn't you do some of the things you want to do?"

He doesn't understand.

I try to walk past him. "I have to make sure everyone else is okay when I leave them—"

"That's ridiculous," he says, blocking me.

I brush past him. "No, it isn't."

His hand circles around my wrist, pulling me back. "They won't be okay, Margo. No matter what you do, no one is going to be okay!"

"I have to try!" My voice cracks, pulse skyrocketing.

He swallows, Adam's apple bobbing. His stare is dark and angry. "Well, maybe you should try to live for yourself too," he whispers.

I'm about to argue and tell him all the reasons he's wrong, how I am living for myself, but Cameryn comes out of the entrance of the school. She smiles at me, waving. "Are you ready?"

"Yes," I say, leaving Daniel behind.

He doesn't know what he's talking about.

I don't say much on the drive back home. Despite how much I disagree, I can't get his words out of my head. Would it be so hard to add myself to the list?

Once we reach my house, I thank her for the drive and walk inside. Both cars are home already, which means my parents went and found Annie .

Mama is in the kitchen cooking. Her apron is tied around her waist too tightly, which she tends to do when she's upset. The counter is covered in everything from peppers to sugar to ground meat. I have no idea what she plans on making, but she has to put her nervous energy somewhere.

"We grounded Annie," she says.

"Is she okay?" I ask, setting my backpack down.

"She's pretty upset." Mom's expression changes, shying away from me. "We told her that she can't go to the concert."

"Mom!" I was banking on the concert as a way to bond with Annie again. "Can't you ground her another way?"

Mama sets down the rag she's using to wipe down the counter. "How? If I grounded her to her room, she'd thank me. If we tell her she can't see her friends, she'd tell us she doesn't have any. She needs to know that skipping school and being unreachable is unacceptable."

I understand why my parents did it, but my heart aches for Annie. She wanted to go to the concert so bad. It's all she could talk about for the last week. She kept showing me ideas for outfits.

I need to go talk to her. I need to apologize, get on my hands and knees if I have to. I don't care if she yells at me. I deserve it. I can handle it.

The room is dark, and Annie is going through her dresser drawers. She pulls out every piece of clothing that is mine and leaves it in a heap on the floor.

"What are you doing?" I ask, not getting too close.

She shuts the drawer and heads to her bed. She takes the stuffed animal I bought her last year and tosses it onto the pile of clothes.

I gather the pile in my arms. "I thought you liked the teddy bear. "

"Well, I don't anymore," she mumbles. Next, she moves to her side of the closet and purges it of any of my dresses. She hangs them on my side and pushes the clothes far apart, leaving a large vacant gap in between them as if she's creating an invisible line I'm not allowed to cross.

"Annie, don't do this," I say. My heart is ripping from the way she's trying to get rid of me. I step closer and put my hand on her arm. "I'm sorry. Can we talk about it?"

She spins around with her jaw clenched and bags under her eyes from crying. "No, Margo. I don't want to talk to you right now."

"Please just let me explain," I plead. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen."

"Fine, Margo. Explain. Tell me why I shouldn't be mad," she says, but I don't think she means it. "Tell me why you got involved when I specifically asked you not to."

"I didn't think this would happen—"

"Because you didn't think about how I would feel! You never have."

"That's not true!" The fact that she's implying I don't care is infuriating. I always think about what she wants. I'm constantly trying to make her happy.

"Yes it is! You're always pushing me to do things I don't want to do because you think you know best."

"Like what?"

"You're always trying to get me to go shopping or bowling or to wherever your friends are going!" Her face is bright red, and her words are beginning to run into each other from how fast she's speaking.

"That's because you're always complaining about not having friends, and I don't want you to feel left out! How are you going to make friends if you never do anything? And I never force you to spend time with them. I even ditch plans to hang out with you all the time because you refuse to go anywhere!"

Her jaw falls. "Well, go spend time with them. Nothing's stopping you! You don't have to ditch them to spend time with your pathetic, lonely sister!" She tries to pass me and leave the room.

I stand in the way. "Annie," I say, lowering my voice and trying to stop my temper from bubbling up again. "That's not what I meant. I'm just worried about you. I want to protect you. I want you to be happy, and sometimes I make mistakes. I'm sorry."

She looks me in the eye, full attention. "If you're so sorry, then why'd you do it? Why did you get close to Daniel?"

My heart pounds because I know it's time to tell her the complete truth. "You told me you liked Daniel, and I was afraid he'd end up hurting you. I didn't think he was a good guy, but now—"

Annie waves her hands in front of her face as her eyes water. "You know what, I don't want to hear this. He didn't hurt me. You did." She makes a move toward the door.

"Wait, Annie," I say, trying to tug her hand off the handle. "Please, I need to tell you—"

"Just stop!" Annie yells.

My hand falls from hers.

She stares at the door, waiting a mere moment before she opens it. "I'm not some little kid who can't take care of herself," she says. "So leave me alone." She leaves, pulling the door shut behind her.

"I need to tell you I'm dying," I whisper too late.

I trudge over to my desk and bury my head in my arms. This isn't the way I wanted the conversation to go. My eyes sting and I wipe them on my sleeve. I don't have time to be upset. I need a plan. I take out my notebook. I cross out the ideas having to do with the concert.

I need another way to make this up to her, but I don't want to "push" her to do something she doesn't want to do because that'll only upset her more. My pen taps against the paper, leaving little dots where I should be listing ideas.

Tears start to fall onto the page, and I bite my cheek. At this rate, I'll be here all night before I come up with a plan.

My eyes travel up and look at all the names I have listed. I can't help but think about what Daniel said. "There isn't one thing on that list for you."

He doesn't know what he's talking about... but would it be so bad to add my name to the list? I scribble it down quickly before I can change my mind. Partially, because I want to prove him wrong. He made it seem like I was incapable of putting my name down, and I did. Now, what he said has no value.

It shouldn't be that hard to write down something next to my name. To write down one thing I want to do before I die, and yet, my mind goes blank. Every idea that pops into my mind is for someone else. All my ideas revolve around making my family happy. These last few years, I've accepted that their happiness is more important than mine because they have their whole lives ahead of them. I don't.

My head hurts, and I slam the notebook shut. I don't want to think about this anymore. I take out my phone and look at my socials to try and get my mind off Annie and my list, but I notice a red notification in the corner of my messages.

One of the people I messaged about Meghan replied.

The sun shines brightly through my window as I get ready for school. Annie still isn't sleeping in our room. She's practically camping in the living room. She has a stack of her clothes in the easy chair, and two blankets lie across the couch next to her pillow. Each morning she folds the blankets and sets them next to the pile of her clothes so that the couch is usable during the day per Mama's request.

After I slip into my favorite polka-dotted blouse, the one with the puffy sleeves, I head to the kitchen and give Mama a hug. She's in the process of making eggs and sausage for breakfast.

"Hey, baby. How are you this morning?" she asks, kissing the top of my head.

"Great," I say, smiling big.

She hands me two plates of food, and nods toward Annie, who's sitting at the dining table working on homework. "Go talk to her," she whispers.

I walk to the table and set Annie's plate in front of her. "Here's your breakfast."

She doesn't look up. Her eyes are focused on her math problem.

I sit next to her, but she pretends not to notice. She's giving me such a cold shoulder I almost believe she doesn't know I'm here.

She sighs, standing. "I have to go to school early today," she announces, not making eye contact with me.

I want to grab her hand and stop her from leaving, but I don't know how. My head hurts from all this fighting.

Mama comes and wraps me in a hug. "You need to tell her."

I nod. "I know. "

Mama scowls and immediately starts inspecting my arm. "What happened to you?"

There's a massive bruise on my forearm. It doesn't take much pressure to leave a mark. "It's fine. It doesn't hurt."

She looks for more bruises, inspecting me like I'm her patient. "Maybe you should stay home from school. You've been so busy lately. I think school might be too much for you today."

I shake my head. "Annie will be there, so I need to be there too."

Judging by the look on Mama's face, she wants to protest. But at the same time she knows how badly I need to talk to Annie. She nods. "Okay, I'll drive you."

I sling my backpack on my shoulder, staggering from the weight, and put my shoes on.

"You still need to eat breakfast."

"I'm not hungry anymore." I lost my appetite the second Annie walked out the door.

Mama's face falls, clearly upset that no one ate the breakfast she worked hard to make.

I hate seeing her disappointed, so even though I don't want to, I head back to the table. I sit down and force-feed myself the eggs and sausage, then I help Mama with the dishes before we walk out to the car.

Mrs. Jackman is out watering her flowers again, but this time she has her hand on her back. Her brow is furrowed as she takes in a deep breath.

"Is everything okay, Nancy?" Mama asks.

"Don't mind me. I just have a hard time moving around anymore," she says, wobbling back.

Mama watches her intently, not wanting to get in the car. I can tell the nursing brain is in high gear .

Mrs. Jackman slips and almost falls back, but catches herself on the side of the house. Mama and I both rush to her side. I take the watering can while Mama loops her arm around Mrs. Jackman's arm, steading her. "Let's help you get inside."

"I'm okay, really. You don't need to worry about me. I just stepped wrong."

Mama raises an eyebrow. "Nancy, I've known you for years. Don't tell me you're fine if you're not."

Mrs. Jackman sighs. "I'm a little tired."

"Okay, so let's go sit down. I'll get you some water."

I run over to the door and open it while Mama helps Mrs. Jackman inside. A couple of her kids are sitting at the kitchen table eating while one of the toddlers is dancing to a song in the living room. I have no idea where the others are. There are five kids total, not including the baby Mrs. Jackman is carrying, and I can't keep track of them. It took me a while to memorize their names, but I still mix them up because they all have bright blond, almost white, hair and blue eyes.

"What's wrong?" Maria, the oldest, says.

"I just need to sit down. Nothing's wrong," Mrs. Jackman replies.

Maria doesn't seem convinced and follows us into the living room. She's only eleven, but she acts way older. She's always helping her mom with the other kids.

Mama helps Mrs. Jackman down onto the couch. She fluffs a pillow and sets it behind her back. "When's your next checkup?"

"I have one tomorrow," Mrs. Jackman says.

Mama nods and checks her pulse. "Okay, that's not too far away, but I think it would be a good idea to take it easy the rest of the day. "

Mrs. Jackman laughs. "I wish I could, but there's so much to do. I have to get the kids out the door for school and there's dishes and dinner later." Then she grimaces and touches her stomach. "Don't worry. It's just Braxton Hicks."

Mama turns to Maria. "Could you bring me a glass of water for your mom please?"

Maria nods and runs off.

I find myself with a little blue-eyed toddler wrapped around my leg. I stroke his blond hair out of his eyes. "Hello."

Mama continues to fuss over Mrs. Jackman. She checks to make sure her ankles aren't swollen and has her drink some water. "I have to drop Margo off at school, but I'm going to come back and help you for the day. You need the rest."

"You don't have to. I'll manage," Mrs. Jackman says.

Mama, who doesn't take no for an answer, says, "You work really hard taking care of everyone in this house. It's about time someone took care of you."

And that was that. Mama made sure the older kids were ready to leave for the bus and herded the younger ones into the living room with some books before we left.

I smile, focused on Mama as she pulls out of our driveway. I love the way her lips twitch when she has something on her mind. I can tell she's creating a list of things she plans to do when she gets back to Mrs. Jackman's house. That's the way Mama is. She cares deeply for people, which is what made her such a good nurse, and she always goes above and beyond to make sure everyone has what they need. Mrs. Jackman will want for nothing when Mama returns. Mama will do everything from her dishes to prepping dinner and taking care of the toddlers while Mrs. Jackman takes a nap.

"Why are you staring at me?" Mama says, tilting her sunglasses down .

"You miss it," I say.

Mama pushes her glasses up and balances them on top of her head. "Miss what?"

"You miss helping people."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she says.

"You know exactly what I mean," I say. "You told me you'd think about going back to work."

"I did think about it, and I think I'd rather be at home," she says.

"Come on, Mama. Your face lit up when you were back there. Nursing makes you happy."

Mama's smile disappears. "I don't think I can go back."

"Why not?"

She grips the steering wheel tighter. "Because I can't welcome new babies into this world when my own baby isn't around. It makes me angry just thinking about how unfair it is. And then I get upset with myself for being angry. It's better if I stay away."

"But you used to love it so much," I say.

"That doesn't mean I love it now."

My stomach turns. Maybe I've been going about this the wrong way. Maybe Annie was right when she said that I always push people to do things because I think I know what's best when I don't. I thought Mama was so focused on me that she forgot about how much she used to enjoy her old job, but that isn't the case. She's avoiding it because she's scared of facing that environment when I'm gone. I thought if I pushed her hard enough to go back, she'd automatically remember the joy it brought her, and things would magically go back to the way they used to be.

Now, I'm starting to realize maybe I can't fix her problems, because I can't control leaving. I can't make it easier for her to go back to the hospital. I thought if she went back to work, she'd have something else to focus on besides grief later, but maybe it'll only make it worse.

For someone who prides themselves on fixing the world around them, I've been striking out a lot. It's like no matter how hard I want to make everyone's lives better, I make them worse.

I almost want to give up on my list.