Chapter 17

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

MAYA

I sit on the back porch, Luna sleeping in my arms, the little wiener dog on her back and smiling contentedly as I stroke her belly. On the table, my bank app shows a month’s payment has gone into my account. It’s better than I ever could’ve hoped for.

He’s changing my life, but he looked at me like I was radioactive when I left, almost like he was scared of me—of that kiss and what we shared.

Riley laughs as she runs around the yard, Loki yapping as he chases after her. “You’re getting paid for this?” she giggles, clutching onto the railing.

She was up until four a.m. last night. She’s still drunk, and maybe something else, something more, but it’s not her fault that jackass drugged us.

“I guess so,” I say in disbelief.

Riley walks onto the back porch and sits next to me. “I never should’ve taken us to that party. Seriously. I thought I knew Matteo. I thought it was all a big game.”

I sigh. “So did I. We’ve done stuff like this before when we were kids. Maybe we thought it was going to be the same. It was magical at first.”

“Wasn’t it?” Riley says eagerly. “When I saw you in that art room, you had this look on your face … like you were lost, and you liked it. That was awesome to see.”

I smile. “That’s what it felt like. It was interesting in there, and there was that pad. When I wrote home , it showed me the prettiest place.”

“A high-rise in Tokyo?”

“No, more of a white-picket-fence deal.”

“And that’s a good thing?” she sighs. “Seriously, I’m sorry. It doesn’t cut it. It doesn’t even come close, but it’s the truth for what it’s worth. I’ve been the world’s shittiest friend.”

“You didn’t know they were going to …” I swallow, “ … do what they did.”

Over the day, the memories have been returning. The three kids they dragged out, trying to get Tristan to hurt them, but he wouldn’t do it. He would never do something like that, even if he clearly works with them.

“At least you’re okay,” she says.

“At least you are, too.”

“It wasn’t me that creep Carlo has his eye on. Still, Tristan put him in his place. He was so protective over you.”

“I can hardly remember any of it,” I murmur, half lying. It’s hazy, but I remember the flood of feeling rushing into me when he climbed the railing, standing over me, making sure I was okay.

“He’s a good person. He doesn’t have to do this for me. Maybe that’s why we …” I swallow, wondering if I should say it. Suddenly, it’s like we’re high schoolers again, and Mom will come out here with a smile, asking if we want some lemonade. “Kissed.”

Riley gasps. “You kissed him?”

“We kissed each other,” I say. “It was weird. It didn’t feel like one of us did it; it was more like we both did it. I know how that sounds.”

“It sounds romantic,” Riley says fiercely. “It sounds … like you’re making me jealous. If this can come out of last night, then maybe it’s not all bad.”

“ This ,” I repeat. “It’s not anything concrete. It’s not anything real. We kissed, but then he seemed to want nothing to do with me. That’s what I should want, too.”

“Why would you want that?” Riley says. “You deserve happiness, too.”

“Don’t be dramatic,” I say, winking at her. “To be or not to be, that is … Wait, what’s the question again?”

“Ha, ha, ha,” she says, rolling her eyes. “I get it. You don’t want to talk about it because then you have to think about it. You have to think about it working .”

“We’ve both got Devil’s Breath coming out our asses. I’m not making any decisions about anything right now.”

“That’s fair,” Riley says. “I need to relax.”

“Maybe you do,” I tell her. “All the partying … Look where it led us. I don’t think it’s your fault. We’re both our own people. We’re responsible for where we go, for what we do, but?—”

“You’re right,” she says quickly. “I know you are. I’m going to make a change. I can’t keep going on like this. I’d never forgive myself if I got you hurt. I couldn’t even believe when you wanted to be friends with me.”

“Don’t be silly.”

“Seriously …”

We pause as Luna wriggles out of my lap, hopping down and into the yard. Loki immediately starts sniffing after her.

“I used to walk by the library and see you reading all those books, and I knew you were smart. Thoughtful. I liked to think I was like that, too, but it was hard to know. People laughed if I talked about books.”

“We’re a good match, Rye.”

She sighs, then says, “Listen, I have to go. I want to stay, but I’m just so tired. Tomorrow, when I wake up fully sober, I’m going to make a change. Thanks for not hating me.”

“I could never hate you.”

After seeing her to the door, I turn to the garden, a smile instantly taking shape on my face when I see the dogs playing. It was a joy bomb having Loki just visit, but having two of them here is just the best. It somehow makes all this seem less sharp, less cruel.

This is how I lived all those years as a kid; I was lonely, thinking I enjoyed it better that way. I watched. I tried to see the beauty in the simple things, never believing I could have more, but maybe …

Loki darts forward with the quickness of a spring breeze, his paws barely touching the ground. Luna responds with a graceful sidestep, her sleek form weaving through the grass like a ribbon.

They circle each other, eyes locked, the anticipation building. Loki pounces, his leap a burst of enthusiasm, but Luna is already spinning away, her body curving in a fluid arc. He chases, but she is quicksilver, slipping just out of reach. I find myself longing to feel so carefree.

It must feel like belonging, knowing precisely the correct shape to take and the proper motion to melt against another.

Loki pauses, head tilted, calculating his next move. Luna stands a few paces away, her tail a banner of challenge. With a sudden burst, Loki charges again; this time, Luna lets him come. They collide in a tangle of limbs and happy barking, rolling together in the grass. At last, they collapse side by side, panting but content.

I might feel guilty for taking this opportunity, but at least I get moments like this before I head inside.

I text Lacey. You around for a quick chat?

Instead of texting me back, she calls me. “I’m sorry. I know you just got off shift,” I say, feeling guilty for bothering her.

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Lacey says. “What’s up?”

“Just after you left, Mom had a really bad crying episode. She couldn’t stop for about ten minutes. I want to help her, but …” Not a home. Not yet. Oh, God. “The last time we were at the doctor’s, they mentioned this new medication, Nuedexta. I’m concerned about the side effects, though.”

“Yeah, many of my other patients use that,” Lacey mutters thoughtfully. “It’s a lot to think about. Nuedexta can help with those emotional ups and downs she’s been having, and it might make her feel a bit more comfortable.”

“I heard it can make her really drowsy or even psychotic. That sounds so scary.”

She pauses, and I know she’s giving it real thought. “It sounds worrying, but those side effects aren’t very common. The drowsiness can usually be managed by adjusting when and how much she takes. As for the psychotic symptoms, they’re rare, and we’ll be watching her closely for any signs.”

Still, even just watching for signs of Mom losing her mind freaks me out, but is this better? Letting her suffer? “I just don’t want her to be more uncomfortable or out of it. She’s already going through so much.”

“It’s a tough balance, but if you don’t want to do the other option …” She pauses, swallowing audibly. “Think about the good moments it could bring, where she’s not feeling as much emotional pain or discomfort. It could mean more peaceful times for both her and you.

“I just want to do what’s best for her, but it’s hard to know what that is sometimes.”

“You’re doing an incredible job, Maya. Don’t doubt that. Just being there for her is huge. You won’t believe some of the situations I see. I’m here to support you both. You’re not alone in this at all.”

“Thanks,” I murmur, giving the drug some real thought.

The symptoms put me off when the doctor first mentioned it, but Mom deserves it.

“Seriously,” I go on, realizing I probably sound ungrateful. “I think I might try it. I’ll call up the doctor and see how Mom feels. Who knows, it could be a new lease, right?”

“Maya,” Lacey says softly. “You know I can’t tell you anything like that.”

That’s right. We both know where this ends. There’s only one destination.

“Thanks for being so patient with me,” I tell Lacey. “I know it must be tough on you too.”

“I have to make myself cold. It’d wreck me if I let myself care too much, honestly. See you soon.”

“Bye, Lacey.”

Heading inside, I check on Mom, meticulously going over her equipment and her medications. Technically, I’m not supposed to be doing this. I’ve watched Lacey and learned the basics, enough to keep us ticking along. Mom doesn’t like it when I change her incontinence pads and urge her to use the metal urinal, but this is life. This is the blunt reality of what a dedicated daughter has to do.

“I love you, Mom,” I tell her once it’s all done.

She can barely whisper it back. Today is one of her bad days.

Grabbing a blanket, I decide to curl up on the armchair. Since Mom got sick, I’ve learned to sleep in some contortionist positions.