Page 48 of Threads That Bind Us

“I just don’t want you to push yourself so hard that you hurt yourself,” I say cautiously, setting down my fork.

“You’re always telling me to listen to my body, that I’m the only one who knows what it’s saying,” she shoots back, her lip quivering a bit. My chest clenches. “Does that not count here?”

The room is silent, none of us moving an inch. I catch Charlie’s gaze across the table, and his eyes are filled with pity that I’m pretty sure is for me, not for my sister.

“Look, give it two more days of going to class all day virtually,” I acquiesce. Ana snaps her head toward me, a hopeful look in her eyes. “Two entire days, Ana, no skipping any periods or mid-day naps. If you can make it through and you don’t feel completely awful, you can go back on Thursday, okay?”

She’s so excited that she shovels the rest of her dinner down, throws her plate in the dishwasher haphazardly, and nearly sprints back to her room, presumably to call Gray.

My anxiety about sending her to school, the fear that she only wants to go back because she thinks she’s burdening me, is enough to distract my reactionary nervous system from Charlie’s presence.

For a while.

But soon, despite my spiraling thoughts and busy hands, the one-sided tension can’t be ignored. I hate that I’ve been so fundamentally changed by that one experience I canfeelwhere he is in a room, even when I’m not looking at him. It’s like I’m attuned to him.

Torture.

“We need to discuss her protection,” he says quietly as he joins me at the sink.

I hand him a freshly washed baking pan, he dries it, I build a domestic fantasy in my head that revolves around lazy kisses in dark kitchens, I want to die.

“Right,” I say with a heavy breath, trying to focus. “You think she’s in danger?”

“No, but I think people will take an interest in her, in both of you, especially as you’re seen in public with me more and more.”

I nod and scrub a plate that could definitely go into the dishwasher.

“So, how does this work? Does she need a bodyguard or something?” The thought seems ludicrous; some muscled-up dude in sunglasses following around Ana and her little gaggle of friends as they complain about their statistics teacher and sneak off campus for lunch.

“Not exactly,” Charlie says, reaching over to pluck the overly-clean plate out of my hand. “Ana’s school district has a security services department. I’ll place someone I trust—her name’s Lily—in their office. She won’t follow Ana all the time, but she will have to have a geo-locator in her backpack so Lily can find her in an emergency.” He takes a breath. “Ana doesn’t even have to know.”

My stomach clenches, but I know he’s right. There would be too much to explain. Another secret I have to keep from her.

We’re silent as we finish the dishes, my body and brain caught in separate chaotic spirals. When we're done, and the kitchen is wiped down, Charlie heads to the bedroom without a word.

Two days later,I have no choice. Ana made it through her entire school day both days, and even insisted on going outafterwards. She passed out right after dinner, but she held up her end of the bargain, so I have to hold up mine.

Charlie’s up before I am, as always, and drives himself to work—which work he’s going to, I never know. Zane’s waiting for us by the car when Ana and I are ready to head into the city. Ana gives him a bright, excited smile, which seems to take him a bit by surprise. But Ana’s sunshine cannot be dimmed today, and some of my fears are abated by how happy she is, for the first time in a long time.

On the forty-minute drive, Ana tells me about everything Gray’s informed her has changed since she’s been away. Melissa Bulwarke, the girl who sits behind her in history, shaved her head insolidaritywith Ana’s diagnosis, not knowing that Ana wouldn’t need chemo. Mrs. Layman, the chemistry teacher, had to explain multiple times how radiation therapy wouldn’t make Ana radioactive. Gray’s taken to calling herthe most popular freak in school, a title apparently previously held by the kid who’s double jointed in his elbows.

When we pull up to the school drop-off zone, I want to ask her a million times over again if she’s sure, if she doesn’t want to rest for a few more days. But I don’t want to stifle her joy. I’m hiding so much from her, and even if she has no idea, I need to show her I trust her completely with something.

“You call me if you need anything, okay?” I ask, because I can’t help it.

She kisses me on the cheek as Zane opens her door.

“Thanks, Ginny,” she says, and she bolts out of the car.

The ride back is so much longer than the one there. By the time I get to the house, I want to collapse. I’m physically and emotionally exhausted.

I planned to run errands, distract myself for the rest of the day until l could get into the pickup line obnoxiously early, but nothing felt right. So I told Zane to drop me off, hoping maybeI could lie on the couch with my phone on my chest, waiting to sprint out the door if the school office called me.

I didn’t expect Charlie to be home. I assumed he’d be out for the whole day, like he’s been every other day since we moved in, but I can hear the shower running in our room.

I was going to change before making myself another coffee and hunkering down in the living room, but I hesitate. The few times he’s showered while I’ve been in the bedroom, I’ve had to recite the Gettysburg Address by memory to avoid imagining him dripping wet.

I need to get a fucking grip. I can’t act like this forever.