“Of course it is,” she replied. “She’s been stuck for years, and this means she’s going to have to start actually living her life.”
“Not sure what I could say to her,” I said. Honest to God, I was at a loss.
I’d never understood the guilt Kara carried around with her. It just didn’t make any sense to me. Callie said that I couldn’t understand it, because I wasn’t a woman.
“You talk to her,” I told Callie. “You’ll know what to say.”
“Chicken,” Callie mumbled. She was finally drifting off to sleep.
“You’re better at that shit than I am,” I said, kissing the top of her head. “I’ll deal with the boys, you deal with the girls.”
“Remember when Heather handed you your ass when she and Tommy got together?” she asked in amusement. “God, that was good. You were bent out of shape for weeks.”
“Mmhmm.” Did I remember? Like it was yesterday. That little bitty girl bitching me out was one of my fondest memories, even though I’d never let her know it. Jesus, Tommy’s woman had bigger balls than he did.
“Maybe I should be the one to talk to Kara,” Callie said. Seconds later, her breathing evened out.
I waited another ten minutes just to be sure that she was fully asleep before I slid away from her and got out of bed. Throwing on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, I quietly made my way downstairs. Reaching into the light fixture above the kitchen table, I pulled out the keys I’d hidden there and palmed them. I was going to have to find a new spot to hide Callie’s presents, or I’d catch her in the garage with a crowbar trying to get into my damn toolbox.
Chapter 6
Kara
Past
I woke up under really bright lights, my head pounding with every beat of my heart, and a throat so sore I had a hard time swallowing my own spit.
“Hey,” my dad said softly, leaning over me as he brushed my hair away from my face. “How you feeling?”
“Terrible,” I rasped, barely making any sound. “Water?”
“Yeah, just a sec.”
I rolled my head on the pillow to watch him move toward the little table against the wall. My eyes widened as I suddenly realized where we were. Rose was asleep sitting up in a chair in the corner and Charlie was asleep at her feet, her head tilted back and her mouth hanging open.
I let my dad put another pillow behind my head before taking a sip of the water he was holding.
“What happened?” I asked, trying to remember. I knew we’d gone to the dance and I could vaguely recall feeling like I couldn’t get enough air while we were in the bathroom, but everything after that was a blur.
“You had an allergic reaction,” my dad said, sitting down on the edge of the bed.
“I don’t have any allergies,” I replied automatically.
“You do now,” he said matter-of-factly. “They’re not sure what it was yet—we aren’t sure what was in your dinner, and Charlie said you guys tried pretty much all of the food at the dance.”
“Oh god,” I replied, the thought of food making me slightly nauseous.
“Makes it kind of hard to narrow down,” Dad continued. “But they’ll figure it out.”
“An allergic reaction?” I said, surprised. “It felt like I couldn’t breathe.”
Dad dug his fingers into his eye sockets and nodded. “Anaphylaxis. Thank God your PE teacher knew what the hell he was doin’ and the paramedics got there within a few minutes.”
“Jesus,” I groaned, imagining the complete spectacle I’d made of myself. God, please don’t let me have peed myself or something else equally embarrassing.
“So glad you’re okay, kiddo,” my dad said reaching for my hand. “I was waitin’ up in case you needed a ride home. I ’bout shit myself when Charlie called hysterical, sayin’ they were takin’ you to the hospital.”
“She must have been freaking out,” I said quietly, glancing at my sleeping best friend.
“By the time I met you here, she was actually pretty calm,” Dad said with a small smile. “She’s a good one to have in an emergency. The boys were the ones losin’ their minds.”
“Are they here?” I asked, looking toward the open door.
“Sent ’em home about an hour ago,” my dad replied. “Everyone showed up at first, but once we knew you were gonna be okay, we told ’em to leave.”
“You should have sent Rose home,” I said with a grimace. My stepmom’s belly was the size of a small planet. It couldn’t be good for her to be stuck in an uncomfortable chair all night.
“No way in hell could I make her leave,” he replied with a chuckle. “I could have her removed from the building and she’d stand outside the window with a boombox.”
“True,” I said, leaning my head back.
“She probably won’t let you out of her sight until you’re eighteen,” he mused, his eyes soft. “Be prepared to have company while you poop.”
I laughed lightly and groaned. My entire body was sore.
“You shoulda heard her tonight,” he said. “Railin’ at me about how we’re normal parents and we’re scared of pregnancy and drugs, not the chance that our teenager would have some brand-new allergy that puts her in the hospital. Yellin’ at me like it was my fault.”
“Sorry I scared you,” I said drowsily. “It wasn’t super fun for me, either.”
“I bet it wasn’t,” he said with a sigh. “Get some sleep, sweetheart. We’ll figure this shit out in the mornin’.”
“You should take Rose home,” I said, squeezing his hand.
“Not a chance in hell,” he replied as he kissed my forehead.
* * *
A few days later, I was arguing with Rose as I got ready for school.
“I’m not bringing a jelly sandwich to school,” I ground out between my teeth. “The doctors said I was allergic to shellfish. You think my piece of shit school serves shellfish in the cafeteria?”
“We’re not taking any chances,” she replied mutinously, trying to shove the sandwich into my hand. “Take it.”
“No,” I said, lifting my hands above my head to avoid the sandwich. “You didn’t even put peanut butter on it!”
“Peanut allergies are the worst,” she snapped.
“I don’t have a peanut allergy!”
“Well, you didn’t have a fucking shellfish allergy a week ago, either!”
“Oh my God,” I replied, looking up toward the ceiling in frustration. “This is fucking ridiculous.”
“You’re ridiculous,” Rose spat. She snapped her mouth closed while we stared at each other.
We both began to laugh at the same time, but as my laughter tapered off, hers turned into tears.
“Fine,” I said, reaching out. “I’ll take the stupid sandwich.”
“I just don’t want you to get hurt,” she sobbed, lifting a hand to wave me off as I tried to hug her. “I’m fine. It’s just the hormones.”
“You know they did all the tests,” I said soothingly. “They figured it out. They’re sure it’s shellfish.”