Learning How to Swim
Just a Matter of Time
I sighed as we walked into the house. Mom had been screaming at me the entire way home, asking what I had said to set her off like that. She had been really moody lately.
“I’m sorry, okay?” I yelled, running back outside. I just needed some time alone.
“Trouble in paradise?” Steven asked me, walking up to sit beside me. “Hey, I made some spaghetti. I thought you might like some. It’s got five different cheeses, pepper, and some garlic in it. I think you’ll like it: it’s rather normal.”
“Thanks,” I mumbled, taking the container from him.
“You’re not even going to taste it?” he asked me, frowning.
“My mother hates me,” I told him, not even acknowledging his question. “She told me that I’m the reason my sister can’t come home, and that I’m the reason she’s even there in the first place. I drove her insane, Steven. I truthfully fucked up her life.”
“Don’t say that,” he begged, pulling me to my feet. “You didn’t do anything wrong. When Janice was diagnosed with rapid cycling, she was sent off to Beckham. They had no idea what they were doing, so she only got worse. We eventually had to send her out of state to a rehabilitation center. She was gone for four months, but she was better when she got back. It’s not your fault, Alyssa: it’s damn Beckham’s. They have no idea what they’re doing. My mother hates that place. She says they just barely scraped up the answers for their PhDs.”
I sighed, holding him tightly as my body shook. “But what if I helped? We were so close, but then she started telling me to back off. I couldn’t! Maybe if I had given her space she would be okay.”
“She was born with the gene. It couldn’t be stopped. It was going to happen eventually, Valentine. Listen to me.” He pulled back to look at me. “It’s not your fault.”
I pulled him back to me, sobbing into his hoodie. I couldn’t believe that he wasn’t burning up. I mean, it had to be around eighty-degrees outside. But that didn’t really matter. He held me gently as I wept into his chest.
“How can you be so sure?”
“Janice and I were close. She got involved with some bad things, Valentine. She stuck with the bad crowd and got wrapped up in drugs. She ended up in the hospital because of substance abuse. Even afterwards she still got drunk every night! I found cocaine in her bedroom, and I had to tell my mother. Then she was diagnosed. And off to Beckham she went.”
“Did you torture yourself?”
He shrugged. “I suppose that’s the normal reaction, hmm? You think there has to be a reason for her to have finally snapped. She was a walking time bomb, Alyssa. She was bound to blow up sooner or later. It was only a matter of time.”
“You sound like my therapist.”
“Hmm, then I might need to look into booking an appointment with her because she sounds smart,” he teased.
I pulled myself out of his arms. “I’m okay now... So did you ever go to therapy?”
He laughed, grinning like a madman. “Me? My mother is a psychologist.”
“I’m sorry, okay?” I yelled, running back outside. I just needed some time alone.
“Trouble in paradise?” Steven asked me, walking up to sit beside me. “Hey, I made some spaghetti. I thought you might like some. It’s got five different cheeses, pepper, and some garlic in it. I think you’ll like it: it’s rather normal.”
“Thanks,” I mumbled, taking the container from him.
“You’re not even going to taste it?” he asked me, frowning.
“My mother hates me,” I told him, not even acknowledging his question. “She told me that I’m the reason my sister can’t come home, and that I’m the reason she’s even there in the first place. I drove her insane, Steven. I truthfully fucked up her life.”
“Don’t say that,” he begged, pulling me to my feet. “You didn’t do anything wrong. When Janice was diagnosed with rapid cycling, she was sent off to Beckham. They had no idea what they were doing, so she only got worse. We eventually had to send her out of state to a rehabilitation center. She was gone for four months, but she was better when she got back. It’s not your fault, Alyssa: it’s damn Beckham’s. They have no idea what they’re doing. My mother hates that place. She says they just barely scraped up the answers for their PhDs.”
I sighed, holding him tightly as my body shook. “But what if I helped? We were so close, but then she started telling me to back off. I couldn’t! Maybe if I had given her space she would be okay.”
“She was born with the gene. It couldn’t be stopped. It was going to happen eventually, Valentine. Listen to me.” He pulled back to look at me. “It’s not your fault.”
I pulled him back to me, sobbing into his hoodie. I couldn’t believe that he wasn’t burning up. I mean, it had to be around eighty-degrees outside. But that didn’t really matter. He held me gently as I wept into his chest.
“How can you be so sure?”
“Janice and I were close. She got involved with some bad things, Valentine. She stuck with the bad crowd and got wrapped up in drugs. She ended up in the hospital because of substance abuse. Even afterwards she still got drunk every night! I found cocaine in her bedroom, and I had to tell my mother. Then she was diagnosed. And off to Beckham she went.”
“Did you torture yourself?”
He shrugged. “I suppose that’s the normal reaction, hmm? You think there has to be a reason for her to have finally snapped. She was a walking time bomb, Alyssa. She was bound to blow up sooner or later. It was only a matter of time.”
“You sound like my therapist.”
“Hmm, then I might need to look into booking an appointment with her because she sounds smart,” he teased.
I pulled myself out of his arms. “I’m okay now... So did you ever go to therapy?”
He laughed, grinning like a madman. “Me? My mother is a psychologist.”