Page 2 of A Million To Fall

I stand under the shower for the entire twenty minutes I allotted to myself, relishing the quiet. I brush my teeth, wash my hair, then use the last five minutes to take care of… other things. Privacy is hard to come by.

Once I’m dressed, I wander back into the dark bedroom.

“Cassiopeia, New York City Borough, wake up, guys.”

Cassie and Bronx slowly blink their eyes open.

“Morning guys. Time for school. What do you want for breakfast? Pancakes?”

“Waffles,” Bronx croaks.

I smile and help him clamber out of bed. “You got it. Get dressed and bring me your toothbrushes.”

In the kitchen, I pop a couple of frozen waffles in the toaster. I don’t have time or the ingredients to make anything from scratch, but I do cut up a banana, spoon a dollop of peanut butter onto each plate, and try to make each serving look semi-appetizing.

I inspect the dingy dining table. It looks clean enough—no mysterious substances I wouldn’t want anyone to ingest or even touch. It’s not uncommon for me to have to disinfect the table in the mornings, especially if my mom had some “friends” over the night before. I decide to wipe the table down anyway. Better safe than sorry.

“I don’t want to go to school,” Cassie whines when she joins me in the kitchen. Bronx toddles behind her.

“Why not?”

She hands me their toothbrushes. “It’s boring.”

“Aw, but your friends will be there.” I kneel in front of Bronx, who opens his mouth like a baby bird. “And you get to do crafts. Playground time.”

Cassie rolls her eyes. “Ugh, but Dillon always wants me to share my snack with him.”

“Oh no.” I laugh and motion for Bronx to climb into his seat. “Want me to come kick Dillon’s butt so he leaves you alone?”

She gasps. “You can’t come to my class and kick Dillon’s butt. You’ll get in trouble, and then you have to go to the office!”

I smile at her. “I think I’d have bigger problems than getting called into the office if I beat up a first grader, but I’d do it for you.”

I was eleven when Cassie came into this world, and twelve when Bronx showed up less than a year later, but my age didn’t prevent my mom from relying on me to help raise them. I can’t even count the diaper changes, the bottle feedings, the sleepless nights I’ve shouldered since their arrival. The responsibility has only increased as I’ve gotten older.

“Is today a Miss Janine day?” Bronx asks as I help him and Cassie into their winter boots and jackets.

I nod.

Cassie sighs. “Aww, but I don’t like her mac and cheese,” she complains about our elderly neighbor who sweetly offered to babysit when I started working part-time after school. “And Tuesday is always mac-and-cheese night.”

I chuckle and usher them out the door with promises of shakes and burgers once I get paid on Friday. It’s the only real treat I can afford.

Outside, the cold bites my ears. I pull my hood up, grumbling.

God, I hate Minnesota winters.

two

Skye

My alarm went off at six, and, gosh, I crawled out of bed like a sloth.

I’d told myself I’d stop studying for my calculus test at midnight. Then at one, because I kept tripping over implicit differentiation. Then after five more practice problems, just to make sure I actually understood it. After all, my math grade is the difference between graduating valedictorian and... not. And when both your parents’ offices are full of framed diplomas, fancy Latin honors, and little glass awards, “not” isn’t really an option. So I went to bed at two.

“Baby, did you grab your lunch?” my mom calls after me on my way out the front door.

“Yes, Mom!”