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Cat studied my face for a long time. I began to squirm, uncomfortable under her scrutiny.
“What?” I asked, shifting my weight from one foot to the other.
“It’s not your fault, you know.”
“Don’t,” I said.
“You can’t keep blaming yourself. You keep trying to make it right, but it’s not your fault.”
A lump rose in my throat, and my eyes stung with tears.
“Dammit, Cat,” I said in a trembling voice. “I was fine today, and now…” Tears rolled over my cheeks. “I’m a blubbering mess.”
Cat crossed the small kitchen and wrapped her arms around me. “I’m sorry. I just wish you’d stop blaming yourself.”
I let out a shuddering breath and hugged my sister back. “I’m not.”
Cat let go of me, her eyes telling me she knew I was lying. Without a word, she picked up her tea. I brought my cup and the plate with my stale sandwich, and we sat down on the couch.
“Tell me about your studies,” I said, nodding toward the book that lay on the coffee table. “How is it going?”
As Cat started talking about her classes, I smiled at the way her face lit up and her eyes sparkled. She loved studying, learning, growing. She was going to be great one day. She had a bright future ahead of her.
I wished our parents could see it.
I’d just graduated when my parents had died. I’d been at a party that night; Oscar and I had gone in his car. He’d had too much to drink, and I hadn’t wanted to get in the car with him.
“Why are you being like this, babe?” Oscar asked, irritated. “You always get in the car with me.”
“Not when you’re so drunk, you can’t walk straight. You’re wasted.”
I turned around and walked away from Oscar. He grabbed my arm and pulled me back. His fingers bit into my arm.
“Ow,” I said. “Oscar, what the fuck? You’re hurting me.”
“You’re just as drunk as I am,” he sneered.
“Yeah, but I’m not trying to drive.”
“You think you’re better than me?”
I yanked my arm out of his grip and stepped away. “If you want to drive home and write yourself off, you do that. I won’t be in the car with you. I’m going home.”
I walked away from him.
“Babe,” he called after me. “Babe! Lorraine!” I ignored him, pulling out my phone to dial my parents.
“I’m sorry to make you drive,” I said to my dad after I told him I needed a ride home. “I just don’t want to take the chance.”
“Never be sorry for doing the right thing and asking for help,” Dad said. “We’re on our way.”
My parents arrived ten minutes later. Oscar had already left in his car. I sat on the curb, waiting for my parents. When they arrived, I got into the back. Neither of my parents were angry with me. They asked about the party, made small talk.
Mom looked in the rearview mirror at me. “I know you love him, honey, but you have to think about the bigger picture,” she said. “Is this the type of guy you want in your future? Is this the life you want to build?”
“He’s been there for so long,” I said. “How can I throw all that away?”
“I think you deserve more,” Dad said, glancing at me. “But at the end of the day, it’s your choice. We just want you to realize your worth.”
