Chapter 1 Donovan
Come on, old man—what’s the holdup?”
Dad curses in Polish, and I neatly dodge him when he tries to stomp on my foot. I guide him toward our front door at the pace of a sedated turtle.
He’s been a shadow of his former self since his heart attack and the surgery three weeks ago. He nearly died. Twice, technically. His heart stopped on him two separate times.
He’s drained and gaunt and struggling to catch his breath, but Lewis was right—he’s a warrior.
He was only discharged from the hospital this morning, and I can’t wait to see him settle back into his usual routine.
I don’t think I could take another day of seeing him trapped between those sterile white walls, wearing that hideous gown.
“It’s hot,” he grumbles as we stagger up the front steps.
“That’s weird, what with it being December, and all.”
“Quit treating me like some confused old man, okay?” He eyes me. “My heart gave out, not my brain. I know damn well it’s July.”
I shrug. “The doctor said I should keep you ‘stimulated.’ ”
“You want stimulated? I’ll show you stimulated… Wait a second—what the hell is this ridiculous flower bed?” he squawks, gripping the railing. He shakes his head. “Who massacred my perfect re-creation of the California desert?”
Your wasteland, you mean?
“Oh, just a little someone called Mom,” I singsong, swinging open the door. “She’s back!”
“Oh God.” He lets out a groan. “It starts with the backyard; it ends with a full house makeover. Why is she here?”
“Because what you need right now is a little TLC from your own private nurse?”
“And because you’re a stubborn old goat who most certainly won’t be following the doctor’s orders!” Mom calls out from the kitchen. “Don’t think I forgot who I’m dealing with!”
She steps into the hallway, and I stifle a laugh as my dad sticks his tongue out at her. These two are insane. They’ve been divorced for three years now, but they get along great. Kind of. Let’s just say they’ve got their own vibe going on.
“Come on, Dad, let’s get you in your chair.”
“Ditching me already?”
“I haven’t seen my friends in, like, two weeks. So, yeah—I’m abandoning you.” I smile. “I’m pretty sure your wife can take it from here.”
He glares over my shoulder. “Ex-wife.”
Mom places a glass of water down on the coffee table. “Does he need a diaper change?”
“Mom, don’t start…”
“That evil woman wants me dead. You can’t leave me here like this, son!”
She peers at me. “And where exactly do you think you’re going, young man?”
I’m nearly twenty-two, I moved out when Dad and I first landed in town three years ago. Why’s she so interested in my plans, all of a sudden?
“Out with friends. Don’t wait up.”
Mom shakes her head. “Not tonight, you’re not!”
“What? Why not?” Great. Now I sound prepubescent.
She smooths down her blouse, and I tense up. This is always a bad sign.
“Your sister is on her way.”
Like I fucking said.
“Amelia is coming?” I whip around to Dad. “Did you know about this?”
“Yeah, your mom told me Amelia would be coming down to spend July here. She just forgot to mention she would be coming, too.”
Amazing. Just what this three-week hellscape needed to round itself out.
“Thanks for the heads-up, guys,” I mutter. “Fantastic. I’m sure the vibe tonight will be awesome. All the more reason for me to get out before she shows up.”
“Aren’t you two getting a little old for this?” Mom smiles. “Let’s just have a nice, quiet family dinner together, for once.”
I take a deep breath in and stare at my toes. I love my mom, I really do. But sometimes, she annoys the hell out of me.
I’m just about to respond when the front door flies open.
“Honeys, I’m home!”
Here we fucking go.
I listen as my sister drops her bag in the entryway, and I can already picture the exact look on her face once she realizes I’m here. I know her like the back of my hand. She’s got my mother’s smile, and I watch it fade the second her eyes land on me.
“Donovan.” She sounds pissed.
“Amelia,” I echo, in the same tone.
She glances around the room. “Nice place.”
This is the first time she’s set foot in Dad’s house, so to say it feels weird seeing her in our living room is an understatement.
She stayed behind in Washington, DC, with Mom, and I followed Dad when he landed this awesome job at Sycamore Heights—which means I haven’t seen my sister in more than a year.
She’s changed, that’s for sure—she’s looking trim and toned—and curling her lip at me like I’m an inch tall.
She pulls my mom in for a hug and heads over to kiss Dad.
“You’re not looking so great, Coach.”
Dad and I both wince. He hates when she calls him that, but you can’t teach an old dog new tricks—she’s been using the nickname since she turned fourteen. She’s impossible.
“I’m gonna jump in the shower,” she says. “I reek from the bus ride.”
“Don, show her around,” Mom says, in the kind of tone you don’t argue with.
I’m about to point out that maybe she can show herself around, because it isn’t exactly rocket science, but Dad’s motto springs to mind: Pick your battles.
“Right this way.”
I hit the stairs, pausing halfway to give her time to catch up, and when I catch her glaring at me, I sigh. I’m just praying she doesn’t plan on hanging around for too long.
“How long are you here for?” I can’t help but ask.
“Ten days,” she says. “Then I need to head back to DC and get ready for school.”
I nod.
“Bedroom,” I offer flatly, pointing out the way. “Bathroom.”
She pushes past me and steps into her room, throwing her bag down in front of the closet and leaning out the window. I guess she’s never seen the view from here before.
I should just turn and head back downstairs, but my brain’s too busy racing.
Every time we see each other, I wonder why we find it so damn impossible to get along.
Siblings aren’t required to be best friends—I get that.
But I have no idea when our paths split this much.
I’m three years older than Amelia, and she loved me when she was a kid.
I literally couldn’t shake her off. She was like my shadow.
And then one day, she started hating me out of nowhere.
I never thought too hard. Not until now.
But I guess almost losing my dad has a way of shaking things loose.
“Need anything?” I ask.
“No.”
She stands there in silence with her forehead pressed to the glass.
“Care to share why you can’t stand me anymore?” I try. “Or are you planning to take that mystery to the grave?”
She breathes out, keeping her back firmly turned to me.
“I mean, what happened?” I continue. “Did I eat one of your cookies without realizing, or something? Did I, like, finish the cereal without asking if you wanted any?”
“Get lost,” she snaps, banging her head against the window.
“You’re so fucking annoying, Amelia.”
“You know what, Donovan? Go fuck yourself.”
Amazing! We managed a whole ten minutes.
“You’re about to turn eighteen. Maybe it’s time to start acting like it,” I suggest. “At least make an effort for Dad. He nearly died back there.”
I leave her standing by the window and head straight to my car, doing my best to ignore my mom calling after me. There’s no way I’m spending the evening trapped between my nemesis of a sister and my dad’s aches and pains. I need my Campus Drivers fix before I lose my mind.