If It Makes You Happy Page 19

  I wanted to know I wasn’t alone. That feeling kind of sick was normal. That feeling sore and weird and self-conscious was all a part of the process. That I could learn new ways to move in my body as is, without having or wanting to drastically change my appearance.

  The beeping sound brought me back out of my thoughts. Six minutes. Done. I slowed to a walking pace, chest aching and breathing hard, but I’d jogged the whole thing without stopping. I smiled, happy and proud, but it didn’t last.

  Wheezing.

  Winston was wheezing. He knelt on the ground, one hand clutching his chest, eyes wide and frightened as strained air whistled in and out of him. “Can’t”—gasp—“breathe”—gasp—“Winnie”—gasp—“help”—gasp—“Winnie.”

  Help.

  * * *

  The little bell above Goldeen’s door chimed.

  Footsteps padded across the floor.

  I could move, but also couldn’t. I cared but also really, really didn’t. I shouldn’t have been there.

  Every few seconds, I lost control of my body. An involuntary deep breath shuddered through me—the kind of breathy hiccup someone made when they’d been crying for too long.

  I twisted a straw wrapper around my fingers.

  “Winnie.”

  I closed my eyes against the sound of his voice. Real life wanted to pierce through the protective bubble I’d created for myself, filling it up with hurt to wallow in.

  But it was also a voice I wanted to hear. A voice that made my heartbeat speed up from the sluggish thump of devastation.

  Dallas.

  His hand hovered in the air, hesitating near my shoulder, trapped between wanting to touch me and knowing that he shouldn’t.

  Reality snapped back into focus when I looked at his face. “Hey. Uh, sorry.” I licked my dry lips. “Do you want to sit or, um—”

  “I’m fine.” He placed a plastic container full of cookies on the podium. “My mom sent these for Winston.”

  “Oh. Cool. Thanks. He loves cookies. He loves any kind of food, actually.” I tried to smile—it sort of felt like one. My cheeks rose. My lips pulled. I showed my teeth. “He’s like a human garbage disposal.”

  “Is he okay?”

  “Yeah. Yeah. He, um. I mean, I’m sure you heard. He has asthma. We didn’t know and now we do.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. Yeah. I mean, it’s not like I had the attack.”

  “But you were there. It must have been scary.”

  “Yeah.” I could barely hear myself. “Yeah.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “Hmm? What? No. There’s nothing to talk about. He’s fine. He has an inhaler now, is probably going to be tired for a bit, and has some follow-up appointments with our regular doctor, so he has to fly home. That’s all. Everything’s fine.”

  “That’s really great. But I meant you. Do you want to talk about what happened? I know how much he means to you.”

  Everyone did. Find one of us and the other wouldn’t be far behind. Something raw ripped open inside of me again. “He was there because of me. I agreed to do that stupid jogging plan because Sam wanted it, and Granny wanted it, and he went because of me. Because he goes where I go, and if he hadn’t, today wouldn’t have happened.”

  “That’s not your fault.”

  “It is. He’s been saying it since we started. His chest hurt. His back hurt. He didn’t feel good after we were done and would be tired all day. Dr. Skinner said those were all symptoms. Winston kept telling us he was having a hard time and we ignored him. Sam thought he was only complaining because I was complaining. No one thought to take him seriously because of the way I was acting and how much he copies me.”

  “No offense, but your cousin’s kind of an asshole for suggesting that.”

  “But she’s right.” I wiped my eyes before the tears had a chance to even think about falling. “I was so scared. Scared isn’t even the right word because the right word doesn’t exist. I have never felt like that in my entire life. I don’t even know how to describe it. He couldn’t breathe and he kept wasting the air that was getting in to say my name and I just—I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how to help him. And his eyes—he—he looked at me like he knew I couldn’t fix it, but I fix everything. Not Sam. Me. I’m his big sister. I’m supposed to take care of him. I should’ve known something was wrong. That’s my job and I didn’t and he knew it.”

  “She isn’t right, Winnie.” He moved closer to me, placing his arms around me in a way—one hand on the podium, the other on the back of my chair. He had nice hands. I’d never thought about them before. Long fingers, clean short nails, smooth skin, and bluish-green veins making random, interesting lines down to his arm.

  I wished he would hug me.

  “I don’t know him that well, but I do know that y’all make everyone jealous. We all want to be as close as you two. I don’t even have any siblings and I want it.”

  “I didn’t even want him.” I sob-laughed. “I never told anyone this—I don’t even think Sam knows. A couple of months after he was born, I tried to give him away to my neighbor. I went to their house, rang the bell, ran back to my house, picked him up out of his bassinet, and went back to the neighbors. According to my mom, I said, ‘I don’t want him,’ and tried to give him up.”

  “You didn’t.”

  “I did and my mom whooped my ass. Like, I still remember it. But after that, everything was different. Something in me changed. I was Winston’s Big Sister. Through and through. I made my mom teach me how to make his bottles and change his diapers. When he started walking, I held his hand and brought him with me everywhere. I remember crying on my first day of school because my mom wouldn’t let him stay with me. He’s such a big part of my life. Without him—I don’t even want to know what would be left. There might be nothing.”

  “I don’t think that’s true. I can’t say that I understand. Thinking like that doesn’t exactly sound healthy, but if that’s how you feel then it’s valid.”

  “Valid?”

  “Yeah. My mom uses that word. I like it. Whatever you feel might not be good or positive, but you experience it, so it’s real and it matters.”

  “I’m not obsessed with him or something. I’m his sister. It’s—I don’t know how to explain it. It’s just something that I take seriously. It means a lot to me. Being his sister. It’s very specific—a very specific kind of love. I don’t think that’s a bad thing.”

  “I’m not saying it is.”

  “But people do. Like it’s weird or something that we like to spend time together and hang out and talk. We’re family and we like each other. I don’t get why people always try to twist that into something ugly.”

  “Now, that? I understand. People are assholes. They project the way they see things onto you, and you’re supposed to change to make them happy. They only want to see what they want to see, no matter who it hurts.”

  * * *

  My dad had warned me about bursting into Winston’s room unannounced. “He’s not a baby anymore. He needs his privacy. How would you feel if he did that to you?”

  I still did it anyway. There wasn’t a single thing he could do to make me cringe. I’ve changed his diapers. I’ve nursed him back to health through unbelievable bouts of food poisoning. I’ve seen it all. I mean, he might get embarrassed, but I never would. Besides, I knew he wouldn’t ask my parents any questions about certain … things. Someone had to be there for him.

  We could both live to be over one hundred years old, and he’d always be my precious baby brother who needed me.

  Winston had turned off all the lights in his room, even the little night-light that cast sheer rainbow shadows on the walls. He wasn’t afraid of the dark, but couldn’t sleep in total darkness. He was awake.

  “Hey?”

  “Yeah?” He rasped and my heart stuttered. His throat was fine. He shouldn’t have sounded like that.

  “You okay? Do you
need anything?”

  I listened hard, absorbing the silence for any sign that he was mad or didn’t want to talk or wanted to be left alone. I’d retreat with quickness if he needed space from me. I owed him that much.

  He moved, sheets rustling. “Want to watch a movie with me?” His laptop screen flared to life on his bed.

  “Yeah.” Halfway in the room, I started crying again. “Anytime.”

  Twenty-Seven

  After dropping Winston off at the airport, I abandoned ship.

  I packed a bag, canceled on the Royal Engagement for that night, called in sick for the third time ever at Goldeen’s, and all but ran to casa de Alviar for an emergency sleepover with Kara.

  Her room had gone from posters of four nondescript white boys and two brown boys—clearly thrown in so their makers wouldn’t seem racist—whom she called her small sons who “deserved so much better,” to tapestries of spooky-looking forests and misty ocean waves, hanging fairy lights, candles, and shelves for days lined with cookbooks and big-headed toy figurines.

  Only one photo of the boy band had survived the overhaul. Kara had framed it.

  “Do you even still listen to them anymore?” I placed it back on the nightstand next to her side of the bed.

  “Of course. I don’t love them and nearly lost my life to obsession because of their sheer overwhelming hotness.”

  Last time I checked her music library, there’d been a definite spike in new singers who had a penchant for sounding like soulful frogs.

  “How is he?”

  I flopped face-first on the bed.

  “That bad?” She laughed because she knew, same as I did, that he truly was okay.

  He had wanted to go home. The revelation, the betrayal that he and Sam never really wanted to come to Haven Central in the first place had been nagging at me.

  My parents were just as bad as I was, if not worse, ready and willing to spoil him rotten. He’d start sending me pictures soon, no doubt, of him and our parents having fun together. Without me. Movie dates and beach boardwalk runs for games and they’d buy him hamburgers, ice cream, and taffy by the pound—nope, I wasn’t jealous at all.

  He’d probably do something cheesy like tag every picture he posted online #whereintheworldiswinniesandiego.

  “I ruined his summer.”

  “Nope.” Kara rubbed my back in slow firm circles. “We should do something fun.”

  “First Starlight. Now asthma. Who knows what I’ll unintentionally do next?”

  “At least it won’t be on purpose.”

  I glared at her and she beeped my nose.

  “All I’m saying is life happens. Murphy’s Law plus you finagling yourself into situations where you don’t belong.”

  “I refuse to give you that pun point.”

  “Winston would have.”

  “Rude.” Flipping onto my side to face her, I propped myself up on my elbow.

  “Hey, someone has to treat you normally to make you feel better. You will not get a single drip-drop of sympathy from me.”

  “But whyyyyyyy?”

  “Because you’re being sad for no reason. It wasn’t your fault. Winston is fine. You are fine but you won’t let yourself be.”

  “I can beat myself up if I want to.”

  “Not on my watch.” She leaned forward, copper curls framing her face. “All you’ve done since you’ve been here is work at Goldeen’s, fight with your granny, literally run yourself ragged in the mornings, and gallivant around being the Misty Summer Queen.”

  “We do not gallivant.”

  “The Winnie I know is always smiling. She screech-laughs from the depths of her soul, worries about everyone else and what she can do to make them happy only if it benefits her later, and recharges her batteries by sitting in the sun because she’s a celestial goddess. I haven’t seen her in a while. I miss her.”

  “Me too.”

  “All of that stuff has been for or because of someone else. What do you really want?”

  “To spend time with you.” I sighed. “And Dallas. I like him.”

  Kara seemed to blink in slow motion before turning away.

  Sometimes when I looked at Kara, reality turned into a dream. Everything went fuzzy and softened just like that moment right between being asleep and awake when I would open my eyes and stare at the ceiling, unmoving, unthinking, just breathing and waiting.

  Nothing seemed impossible in that surreal state.

  I sat up, inching as close to her as I could. Her hands in mine, foreheads touching, I whispered, “Can we talk about it yet?”

  She kept her eyes down. I wanted to make her laugh.

  “Hurry. If we stay like this for much longer, my body heat will start fogging up your glasses.”

  Her nose scrunched. The laughter I’d earned was mostly exhaled air. “I love you too much. That’s my problem.” She blew out another huff of air, shoulders sagging. “I love you too much. I wanted you all to myself when that wasn’t what we agreed on. That’s something that I have to deal with, but I’m sorry. You’ve always been all-in with me, and I just thought if someone else came along, that would change.”

  “You asked me what I really wanted. At first, it was just a chance. And then I wanted more. I want him. I’m sorry if that hurts you. I don’t want it to. I wish it didn’t, but I never hid this side of me from you.”

  “That part doesn’t hurt. That’s not it. I’m scared. I don’t want to lose you to him. It never works out for people like me. I want to be with you. I want you to be in my life forever. But I can’t feel the way everyone expects me to.”

  “I only expect you to be yourself.”

  “I want to believe that. I do. I just—I can’t compete with someone like him.”

  Compete? There was no competing. “Instead of doing what you did, you could have said, ‘Hey, Dallas is asking about you and it’s making me really uncomfortable. Can we please talk?’ The Kara who didn’t do that? I don’t know her. I don’t like her. And if that’s how you really feel, we need to talk about it now.”

  “I know I can’t give you everything you want, so you’re going to find it with someone else and then there’ll be this shifting. I’ll have to step back because you’re dating someone. What I have to offer isn’t good enough. I’m not good enough. What right do I have to ask for forever?”

  “You have that right with me because I gave it to you. You can ask for that because I say you can, because I want it too. I feel like what you’re trying to say is you don’t trust me to not abandon you for someone else.”

  “I didn’t—that’s not what I meant.”

  “Yeah. I think it is.” I tried to keep my voice flat. That hurt so, so much. Like someone decided to punch me in the face and then didn’t stop doing it. “What have I ever done to make you think that?”

  “The Wine Tasting.”

  “Before that. Be honest.”

  “Nothing. I guess I kind of always thought it would eventually happen. And then it did.”

  “We’re going to mess up. Both of us. My parents have been together forever and they go to counseling. If they need to talk to someone, then it’s okay if we fall apart, too. As long as we both want to keep going, we can find a way. It’s always been in addition to for me. Always.”

  “For you. What if it’s not for him? Or whoever comes next? Don’t they get a say? What if they say they don’t want me because I’m not—because they don’t understand? What if they make you choose?”

  “If they’re not cool with us, then what’s the point of them?” I meant every single syllable of that.

  Kara grinned, smug and happy. “I love it when you’re like this. So fierce. So unyielding. I chose well.” Now there was the Kara I knew. “I’ll come to your next Royal Engagement. If the offer is still open.”

  Relief flooded through me. I knew it. I knew that had been it. Forcing myself to wait and let her figure that out on her own had been the right move. It took her a while and it scared me and p
ushed me to be the ungirlfriend I knew she needed but didn’t think I could be.

  She did it. I did it.

  We did it.

  FAM-BAM-MAJAMA

  Winnie: Hey did he make it there okay? I keep calling …

  Mom: He’s here. Everything is fine. We love you.

  Winnie: I’m too paranoid. I need a secret code that only we would know so I know that someone didn’t kidnap you all.

  Mom: Winnie. My child. My first born. Pride of my soul. Blood in my heart.

  Winnie: OKAY I BELIEVE IT’S YOU I’M GLAD HE MADE IT GOING TO BED BYEEEEEE

  Mom: Your accuser wishes to remain anonymous. Where are my earrings?

  Winnie: Earrings? What earrings? I don’t know anything about earrings.

  Mom: The ones that are missing. The ones you took.

  Mom: Gold studs. Amethyst stones. Sunflower pattern. Sound familiar?

  Winnie: Oh. Those.

  Winnie: Yeah, those are here. Perfectly safe.

  Winnie: I was going to ask to borrow them but I ran out of time

  Mom:… Sam took them didn’t she?

  Winnie: NO!

  Mom: Winfrey Diane.

  Winnie: Okay. Maybe.

  Momma-da-vida

  Winnie: I need advice. Help?

  Mom: I’m relaxing in the garden with the birds so I’ve got some time. Do you need to call me?

  Winnie: Sam is with me. I don’t want her to hear.

  Mom: Go for it.

  Winnie: It’s about Dallas. The guy I told you about who volunteered to be king with me.

  Mom: Ooh! Yes! You still haven’t sent me a picture. Is he cute? He sounds cute and like a nice young man who likes to buy my daughter flowers

  Winnie: It’s also about Kara.

  Mom: WHAT’S WRONG WITH KARA?

  Winnie: Nothing! We’re working through it.

  Winnie: She’s really worried that he won’t like her because of something she did and I can’t be with someone who doesn’t accept Kara but I really like him mom. A lot.

  Winnie: I’m trying to prep myself for disappointment.