You Only Need One (My One #1)

Prologue

HOLLY

“If you don’t talk to me, I swear, I’m gonna go crazy. Like punch a hole in the wall crazy.”

The room is quiet, except for the scratch of a pencil and the occasional crackle of stiff paper as I shift uncomfortably on the examination table. Luckily, I’m just getting the results of my blood test today, so I’ve got on jeans and a cotton T-shirt rather than the revealing gown that opens up in all the private places I don’t want my brother to see.

Marcus sits in the only normal chair in the room, foot crossed over his ankle, notepad propped on his knee, pencil skittering across the paper. In his own world, like always. Normally, I’d leave him to it, but today, I need a distraction.

“Which wall?” He keeps sketching.

“Which wall? Which wall? Does it matter?” I throw my hands up at the ridiculousness of his question.

“Only if you’re strong enough to break through the drywall.” Finally, he stops drawing, instead using his pencil like a professor would use a pointer during a lesson. He even sounds like one of my instructors. “Three of these walls”—he points them out—“you’d likely just get empty space behind. So, you’re good to go. But this one”—he reaches back to tap the one behind his head—“is a load-bearing wall. So, there are beams. I’m guessing steel. Punch one of those, and you’ll break your hand.” Finished with his lesson, Marcus goes back to his work.

I roll my eyes, a common occurrence around my big brother. “You architects. Think you know everything, don’t you?”

“When it comes to walls? Yeah.”

I snort and try to leave him alone.

He didn’t have to come with me today. I’ve been going to the doctor alone since I was fifteen. But this isn’t a normal yearly checkup. And I think it’ll be better to hear the news together. If it’s good, then plans can be made immediately. If it’s bad … well, at least I won’t need to repeat it.

Marcus huffs in what I can tell is frustration. He flips his pencil over and erases the offending mark with a glare. I smile as I watch him work. Doesn’t matter if he makes a mistake or two; the final drawing will be amazing. Everything Marcus creates blows my mind.

I can feel my smile fall when the door clicks open, and my doctor walks in. It’s not that I don’t like Dr. Williams. I really do. She’s perfectly nice and always professional, and she gets straight to the point.

Even when her news sucks.

“We’ve received the results of your blood test. I’m sorry, Holly, but you are not a match for Marcus. You won’t be able to give him your kidney.”

A buzz fills my ears, and the room gets fuzzy for a second.

You are not a match.

You are not a match.

You are not a match.

A broken record flicks those words over and over in my head.

I thought I just needed to wait.

“When you’re eighteen, then you can check. But I’m not letting you go before then.”

Marcus told me that for a year. Ever since his kidneys got so bad that he needed constant treatments—aka dialysis. No matter how much I begged him, told him that age didn’t matter if I could save his life, he never gave in.

Today was supposed to be the day.

But today is just a new person telling me that I have no control.

A warm hand gives my knee a squeeze. When I glance up from my lap, Marcus smiles at me in sympathy. As if I were the one living with a death sentence. This man doesn’t deserve the crappy genes he was dealt. I just want to fix it.

“Don’t worry about it, Holly. We knew there was no guarantee. I mean, we’re only half-siblings.” He pats my leg before standing and offering Dr. Williams his hand. “Thank you for checking. And for being gentle with my sis.”

Her face stays serious as she shakes his hand. “No one is a fan of needles. I’m just sorry I couldn’t give you better news. You’re still on the donor list though. And there are other options, such as exchange programs.”

“Exchange programs? What’re those?” I sound desperate, but I don’t care.

Marcus grimaces but keeps quiet when I shush him.

Dr. Williams makes sure to face both of us as she explains, “An exchange program, also called a paired donation, is when two or more people with kidney failure have willing, medically able, living donors who are incompatible”—she gestures at me—“with their loved one”—she points to Marcus—“but are compatible with another in need. If a pairing match is found, that means you would be donating to a stranger, Holly, with the understanding that their family member or friend would be donating a kidney to Marcus. With your brother’s rare blood type, I can’t guarantee we will find one of these situations, but it doesn’t hurt to enter into the program. If you think you would be comfortable with that situation?”

I choke out a disbelieving laugh. “Are you kidding? Sign me up!”

“Holly, don’t—”

I turn to my brother, pinning him with a glare and giving his chest a firm poke. “If you think for one second that I’m not doing this, you’re in for a rude awakening, bro. You’d better get ready because I’m finding you a kidney if it’s the last thing I do.”

Silence fills the room before Marcus sighs in defeat. He knows when I’m armed and ready for battle.

Turning to the doctor, he gives her a shrug. “If it’s what she wants, then I’m on board.”

Dr. Williams nods and writes herself a note. “Okay. I’ll put your information into the system.”

“Good.”

We might have gotten some bad news today, but there’s still hope. And I’m going to cling to it like a rabid raccoon.

Marcus ruffles my hair as we exit the office. “I still can’t believe this is how you wanted to spend today.”

I shrug. “You’re the one who made me wait.”

He shakes his head like I’m the weird one and tosses me the car keys. “Now that the depressing portion of the festivities are over, let’s go get you some birthday cake.”