25. Shark Week
TWENTY-FIVE
SHARK WEEK
? Orbiter - Noah Kahan
NOAH
The front door crashes open, and Lexi drops her backpack to the floor with a loud thud. She stomps into the living room and slumps onto the armchair.
When Julia Roberts walks into a shop on Rodeo Drive, Lexi groans. “Oh, my god. Do you ever watch anything else?”
“Who pissed in your cornflakes?” Clio asks defensively.
Lexi cocks her head, her jaw clenched tight.
“Oh. We synced. Lovely.”
I jerk my head back. “Wait. That’s a thing?”
“Yep,” Lexi replies, popping the P. “You two look cozy. What’s for dinner?”
“I don’t know,” Clio says. “Make yourself something.”
“We don’t have anything. You were supposed to do groceries.”
“Oh crap. I guess we can order pizza.”
Clio starts to sit up, but I stop her.
“You relax,” I say. “I’ll handle dinner.”
“Can you even cook?” Lexi asks skeptically.
“I’m a great cook, but I’m even better at delegating.”
I reach into my pocket and pull out my phone to dial Emma’s number.
“Hey, big brother,” Emma says. “I have Auggie.”
“Great. Can you run down to the market and grab a few things?”
“Sure. What do you need?”
“Code red.”
It’s what Emma used to tell Jonah and me when it was that time of the month, more as a warning than a cry for help, though I made a few trips to the drug store for supplies over the years.
“Shark week?” she asks.
“Yep. Lexi and Clio both.”
“RIP. It was nice knowing you.”
“Are you going to help or delight in my misery?”
“I can multitask.” I hear the car door open and shut. “I’m here now. I’ll grab the essentials and be there soon.”
“Bring pizza,” Clio shouts into the receiver. “And breadsticks. I need carbs.”
“If we’re getting breadsticks, I want ranch,” Lexi adds.
“Did you get all of that?” I ask.
“Got it. I’ll see you soon.”
“Pass the ranch,” Clio says.
Lexi recoils, holding her plate close to her chest. “Excuse me? Get your own.”
“I don’t have any. If I did, I wouldn’t be asking you, would I?”
She dips her crust into the cup of ranch and takes an exaggerated bite. “It’s not my fault you didn’t plan ahead.”
Clio rips off a piece of her breadstick, tossing the nub at Lexi’s head.
“Hey!”
Auggie looks up at me through innocent eyes. “Why are Lexi and Cici so cranky?”
Emma snorts, spewing seltzer down her chin.
I wrap my arm around Auggie and pull him into a hug, palming his head. “You’ll understand when you’re older, bud.”
“I wanna be older now,” he whines.
“No, you don’t,” Emma says. “Responsibilities suck.”
He tilts his head to the side, screwing up his face. “Sponsabileries? What’s that?”
“Responsibilities are the important, sometimes boring things you have to do before you can do the more fun things,” Clio explains. “Like having bath time before story time.”
She smiles at me over Auggie’s head.
Auggie scrunches his nose and makes a disgusted sound. “Bleh. I don’t like bath time.”
Clio laughs. “But we don’t want a stinky Auggie, so it’s your responsibility to take a bath at night. Right?”
He sags back against the cushions, pulling off his ears, and pouting.
I stare pointedly at my sister. “Way to bring down the mood.”
“My bad.” She holds her hands up, palms facing out. “Wait. Why aren’t you turning on Clio? I’m not the one who brought up bath time.”
Lexi snorts. “Obviously it’s because they have a thing.”
“We don’t have a thing,” I deadpan.
“You totally have a thing,” Emma chimes in.
I look at Clio for salvation.
She shrugs. “There’s kind of a thing.”
Another denial lingers on the tip of my tongue, but I choke it down. There’s no use denying it anymore—there’s something happening between us, and I’d be a goddamn liar if I said I wasn’t petrified.
Halfway through an animated show Auggie picked out, something with a family of blue dogs, Clio’s pain flared.
Emma offered to spend the night at my apartment so I could stay with Clio, and I didn’t hesitate to accept.
I couldn’t bring myself to walk across the hall knowing she’d be left alone to suffer.
My thoughts spiraled back to the night I found her trapped in a nightmare, and I knew I couldn’t leave.
Picture windows carry the moonlight inside, illuminating Clio’s peaceful expression. Her lashes flutter against freckled cheeks, her pink lips parted with each exhalation, and her delicate fingers curl around her blanket.
I drag the harsh pen over Clio’s strawberry-speckled paper, forming the basic outline of her face.
It’s not my preferred medium, but I need something to distract me.
If I think too deeply, I’ll lose myself in the fantasy of a life that can never be.
One with Clio Marsden at the center and me orbiting around her as gravity demands.
Want is starting to feel an awful lot like need, and my resolve is crumbling.
It won’t be long before I’ve lost all conviction.
I can’t forget the promises I made, the words I inked into my skin years ago.
It’s the only way I can protect myself from wandering down the same path that destroyed my family.
Love is a death sentence, and though I don’t fear the end, I can’t subject my family to the destruction it leaves behind.
When I’m finished with the sketch, I tear off the page and stuff it into my pocket. Before I can talk myself out of it, I sink farther into the pillows and drape Clio’s body over mine.
“Noah?” she mumbles against my chest.
“Shh. Go back to sleep, princess.”