Page 97

Be a good boy and go play your away series. Not long until Christmas.

Speaking of. I’m gonna need you to keep your entire holiday free.

The entire two weeks?

Mom’s barely speaking to me since I “left her when she needed me most.” She’ll lose her shit if I’m not home for the holidays.

I’m a needy boy.

Well, I’m a needy girl.

So fucking needy. So fucking greedy.

My phone vibrates in my hand, wiping the smile instantly from my face.

“Mom, I’m just finishing up here, and I’ll be right over.”

“You said you’d be over half an hour ago. I’m not getting any better Luna.”

I pin my phone between my ear and shoulder as I frantically pack my bags and schoolwork. “It’s the full-blown flu. It takes time.”

“Can you stop by Walmart on your way over? I’ll send you the list.”

Hauling both heavy bags onto my shoulders, I almost topple over at the weight.

“Yes. Okay, you got it.”

“In here, Luna.”Mom’s failing voice shouts as soon as I walk through her front door.

“One second.” I’m exhausted from chasing around after her since the moment I landed back home.

“Just bring the Tylenol in.”

“A please wouldn’t hurt,” I say under my breath.

“What was that?”

Maybe not so under my breath.

Walking into her living room, she’s strewn across the couch surrounded by tissues, cups, and empty plates. I inwardly curse at the mess, knowing it’ll be me who has to clean it up. The last time she was sick, she barely contacted me since she had Geoff, her now ex-boyfriend, to run around after her.

“You must be feeling a little better if you can eat something,” I say, gathering up the first plate and grabbing a bag to pick up the tissues. Chances are I’m going to get sick too.

“I barely kept anything down,” she replies, flicking through programs on the TV.

I watch as she finally settles on something and sits back on the couch, pulling a blanket over her.

“I’ve got a lot of schoolwork to catch up on, and my students have final projects due, so I might not be able to come over for the next couple of days.”

She pauses the TV and looks up at me. “You’ve barely been here.”

Guilt washes over me. “I’ll make sure you have everything you need.”

“What I need is my daughter.”

Guilt is momentarily replaced with frustration, her constant jabs wearing me down. “And where were you when I was sick this summer? Now I’m probably going to get sick again.”

She huffs out an unapologetic breath. “You no doubt had that boyfriend of yours to take care of you.”