Page 51 of Not On Your Life

Oh, to be a teenager again.

***

“I have another dress for you,” Lyndi says the second I walk in the front door of her house after practice.

Lyndi and Crew have only been living here for two months, but I can see their influence everywhere. The colorful throw pillows, the toys strewn about, and the dozens of family photos littering the walls.

It makes me happy to see her in this place. Safe. Her old apartment was not fit for human inhabitants. The roaches loved it, though.

“Oh. Yay.” I feign all the enthusiasm I can muster, imagining a repeat of the last time. At least we aren’t in a public mall today. When did my life become a series of unfortunate events?

“Don’t worry, Lisa gave me some pointers. This one is the real deal,” she says and runs off, I’m assuming to retrieve the dress.

I kick off my shoes and find the spacious living room. There are Legos scattered everywhere, and I tiptoe around them. I used to feel anxious to help Lyndi clean up after Crew, but not so much anymore. Maybe it was because I got fired and lost motivation, or maybe I kind of entrusted the two of them to Ward. I don’t know.

But this is the reason I don’t look before falling onto the lovely leather couch.

Squish.

I leap off the couch. Moisture seeps into the back of my leggings and I wipe at the spot, shrieking when my fingers connect with something gooey.

Crew.

“What happened?” Lyndi rushes from one of the back rooms. “Oh, yuck. What did you do?”

My hand is covered in what I’m hoping is peanut butter, though it’s more brown than it should be. “Well, I didn’t poop my pants, if that’s what you’re wondering.” That kid is lucky I love him so much.

The little troublemaker himself comes into the house at that moment with Ward, and I growl at him.

He knows our game and takes off running. He’s getting faster, and it’s getting harder to keep up with him. I round the kitchen island and reach for him, but as I do, I slip on what is probably another one of his messes and slide across the floor on my backside.

Crew lands on top of me, his giggling so contagious the fall and pain in my lower back were worth it.

“You okay?” Ward peers over the island, and then his eyes widen in horror.

A brown streak is smeared behind me on the tan wood flooring.

“It was him.” I point at Crew.

Ward shakes his head. “I was going to make mashed potatoes and gravy, but I just changed my mind.”

“Good choice for your health.”

But, as I stand, I can’t help but wonder, is it really? I can’t remember the last time I had potatoes and gravy. Even longer since I indulged in something like pizza.

A potato isn’t the worst thing. I mean, I ate a Snickers this week, and Connor was right. I didn’t gain any weight. Not that I was concerned I would. In high school, I would have run an extra two miles to prevent that chocolate from lingering on my hips. Now it’s simply habit. I’m not going to eat things that aren’t good for me.

But I could be a little more relaxed when it comes to my diet. Mental health is just as important as physical health, and sometimes I forget it’s okay to enjoy food too.

“All right, dude. You’ve got a mess to clean up.” I tickle Crew’s armpits until he jumps from my lap.

“The peanut butter wasn’t me. It was the dog,” Crew says.

I lift an eyebrow. “Are you hiding a dog in here without your mom knowing?”

He zips his lips, something I may have taught him a few months ago when he wouldn’t stop talking. He’s pretty good at using my logic against me.

I eye the little man. “Lyndi, we’ve got a problem.”