Sophia grabs a bottle of water from her mini-fridge. “We have potato chips and pretzels.”
Bristol reaches for her small satchel purse and retrieves a packet of electrolyte mix. “Can you pour this in for me?”
I take the packet from her trembling hand, open the water bottle, tear open the packet, and pour it inside.
I secure the lid, shaking the bottle, letting the drink mix thoroughly.
“The potato chips should have more salt.”
Sophia hands Bristol a single serving sized bag of potato chips.
Bristol opens the bag of chips and retrieves a tiny salt packet that she probably stole from a restaurant and tears the packet over the chips.
My eyes widen at the amount of salt she’s consuming.
“Are you sure you’re not flooding your system with so much salt you’re passing out?”
Bristol glares at me and snarls, “I have low blood pressure.”
“Oh.” Well, fuck me. I feel like a dumbass. I’m so screwed when I eventually start my classes for medical school.
My silence invites her to speak more about it, which surprises me.
“I’ve been this way since I was thirteen.” I don’t remember Bristol fainting in school, but we had only a handful of classes together as teens.
“Cute. Stubborn. Causing all sorts of trouble?” I joke, trying to alleviate her concerns.
Her brow pinches. “You think I’m cute?” She moves to sit up, and I’m right there, putting pillows behind her in case she falls.
I don’t say anything.
She sits up and unscrews the water bottle cap. It takes two hands for her to hold the electrolyte drink, her hands shaking profusely as she dips her head back and takes a sip.
I want to help her, but I might get my head chewed off and screamed at.
I’m not that six-year-old boy anymore.
If she gives me shit, I’m not afraid to dish it back.
I help her steady the water bottle, and she takes another swig.
“You don’t have to?—”
“I want to,” I interrupt her. “So, you pass out a lot?”
She takes another sip and then hands me the bottle. “Can you put the lid back on?”
I take the lid and bottle and secure it for her. She lies back down and momentarily closes her eyes.
“I’m sorry, Sophia, I didn’t mean to ruin your Saturday.” Bristol’s eyes flicker open, and she stares at me. There’s a strange, unfamiliar gaze that crosses her features. It’s not something I recognize or have seen before.
I try not to let her unintentionally get into my head.
“Don’t apologize.” Sophia grabs a seat on the edge of the unoccupied bed on the opposite wall. “It’s nice to have company who isn’t reading all day and telling me to shush. I like a good book too, but I also need some socialization.”
Sophia shares a room, even during the summer, which is unusual.
Most kids go home during the summer, but Sophia and I have no desire to return to Antonio. Not that we don’t love the man—he is our father—but there’s too much business going on at home. Not enough … fun.