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“I’ll be fine, I promise,” I assure him, walking over to where he’s hovering by the front door. He looks almost as uncertain as I feel, but I push that emotion down. “I promise.Ten un poco de fe en mi.”
He sighs and I know I’ve convinced him. “Okay, okay, I’ll go! It will be two hours tops, and then I’ll bring back lunch.”
“And, umm ... no one’s going to come by, right? Tanner doesn’t need anything from his room?”
Em’s packmate has stopped by once so far to pick up some extra clothes, but otherwise he’s been super understanding of my need for an alpha-free space. I feel guilty kicking the guy out of his own home and know we can’t keep up this arrangement forever.
“Tanner has class all morning, so he shouldn’t have any reason to stop by. I doubt anyone else will drop in, but if they do, don’t answer the door!”
It’s nice to have my protective older brother back. He’s apologized so many times for “abandoning” me these past two years. I’m honestly not ready to examine any of my feelings around why he never made more of an effort to check in on me. They’re going in my mental safe next to my father being in jail and my memories of all my “trainings.” Dr. Morgan explained to Em that I’m not ready to talk things out with him yet, so instead we’ve been keeping things light.
Light has been nice.
Still, I know I can’t keep Tanner away indefinitely. This is his home after all, and I’m the interloper.
Em must pick up on my anxiety because he drops his backpack and walks back over to me. “Tanner’s fine,” he assures me. “He hasn’t complained once. Well, except for the fact that Lincoln has been making him train with him, but that’s just tough love.”
I smile. Em’s been telling me stories about his pack, and by now I’ve heard enough to know that Lincoln keeps to a strict exercise routine and diet as part of his training for the military.
“We can’t go on like this forever though,” I prompt, looking away so I won’t have to meet my brother’s eye. “He deserves to be back in his own space, and you probably don’t want your sister hanging around cramping your style ...”
“Espy.Basta.You’re not going anywhere, and you’re not cramping anything. I wouldn’t let you move out right now even if you begged.” He smiles to show he’s joking, but I know deep down he’s deadly serious. “If you’re not in the right headspace for Tanner to move back in, then you and I will find our own space.”
I chew at my lip as I think over the possibility. I suspect it would be hard to find another place on campus midway through the semester, and I know Em’s scholarship doesn’t provide enough for him to cover the rent on two rooms. He’d have to find someone to take over his room here, and that would likely be even more disruptive for Tanner.
“I’d like to try. Being around him, I mean. But maybe baby steps?”
“How about a movie night tomorrow? Tanner can come over, and we can all relax and eat some pizza. I can even invite some of my female friends. Assuming that makes you feel safer ...”
“Okay.” I nod. That actually sounds pretty good. I haven’t hung out with anyone my own age in forever. Or of any age.
“All right, I’ll set it up. Now, I gotta run or I’ll be late!”
“Em, wait,” I call out to him as he’s halfway out the door. “Female friends ...?” I waggle my eyebrows up and down exaggeratedly.
“Mocosa.”He rolls his eyes as he leaves, but I still note a hint of pink on his cheeks and laugh as he shuts the door.
I finish my cereal and put away my bowl, then I move to tidy the blankets from my makeshift bed on the couch. Em protested up and down when I insisted on taking the couch, convinced we should set up a nest for me in his room, but I put my foot down. I don’t think he understands all the reasons behind my refusal to sleep in a nest. Luckily, he dropped the idea and let me have my way. Where was this superpower when we were growing up?
I would describe the couch as exactly what you’d expect of two young guys living on a budget in college. It has a few stains, is fairly worn down, and I occasionally find pieces of popcorn stuffed in the cracks.
Still, it’s certainly more comfortable than the floor.
Dr. Morgan prescribed me some meds to help me sleep, but I’m too afraid to take them. I’d rather have all my wits about me, even if that means a bit of insomnia. And nightmares when I do manage to fall asleep.
It’s a process.
That’s one of the phrases Dr. Morgan likes to use, and I smile to myself as I move to grab the notebook she gave me. It’s supposed to be for journaling, but instead I’ve taken to writing down the little sayings she has a tendency to throw out. Basically, the stuff you could slap on a poster with a picture of the sunrise and have instant motivational artwork.
I write it down next to “remember to be kind to yourself” from yesterday’s session.
Then, not knowing what else to do, I turn on the TV and pick up a different pad of paper. This one Em got me, apparently remembering I liked to draw in high school. I spend the day sketching and watching trashy daytime television, and when Em makes it back after his classes, we toast the tiny milestone with soda and tacos from his favorite food truck.
Victory.
7
Mason
