I feel the weight of his arm land around the side of my body under the covers. I feel like my bones are made of lead, but every cell in my body wishes I could just forcemyself to be more awake, to be with him every moment that I can.
I want to turn over toward him.
I want him to hold me in his arms like this while I kiss him, endlessly.
I want to freeze time and fuck him, over and over, and then let him do it to me, too.
Something sparks inside me, even as I’m half-asleep, some part of me hopes he doesn’t stop touching me.
But a few minutes later I hear his breathing even out, and I know he’s dozing off just as much as I am.
No.
If I sleep, this is just another day that ends.
Another day closer to January. When all of this will be over.
The soundof a slamming door jars me awake rudely some time later, and as I squint my eyes open, I see that it’s not even daylight yet.
I look at my alarm clock and see that it’s 4:39 in the morning.
I’m even more tired than I was before, my body still trying to sink back into sleep.
But then I hear the low tone of Dad’s voice coming from downstairs.
“I don’t fucking care!” I hear Emily shout.
And something hardens in my chest.
Niko moves on the bed next to me, and I turn over to see him squinting up at me.
“What’s going on?” Niko asks.
A door slams again louder this time, and a heavy sinking feeling fills my chest. “It’s Emily.Fuck. I’ll be back.”
I tug on a pair of thick sweatpants and toss a white T-shirt on before heading downstairs.
I see my dad at the kitchen table in a flannel robe, and behind his glasses he looks just as tired as I feel.
And the expression on his face is grim.
“What happened?” I ask.
“Just go back to bed, sweetie,” Mom’s raspy voice comes from behind me. She comes in from the door that leads to the backyard, and a chill gust of air follows her inside.
“What’s happening with Emily?”
I’ve never seen my mom look sadder in my life.
“Your sister came back from Cheyenne’s house and I was downstairs getting a glass of water,” Mom says. “She smelled like cigarettes. And the moment I spoke to her, it was clear that she’s… she’s blackout drunk.”
My heart feels like a stone in my chest.
“Emily?” I ask.
My sister only recently turned 16.
And for my entire life, Emily was the picture-perfect kid. Better than me and Aaron, by far. She got perfect grades. She was kind and sweet. She volunteers at a community garden where my mom is a member, and she’s planning on applying to Harvard and Yale.