Chapter 5
Rachel got home at three in the morning.
The power outage was over, and the kitchen lights were on.
She was still laughing as she pushed the door open, with Dylan trailing behind her, dripping wet and smelling like a bar.
But her laughter died the moment she saw the kitchen floor.
Cereal was scattered everywhere.
The fridge door was left open, its light glowing.
Ollie was curled up in my arms, his face burning red with fever.
I'd fallen asleep leaning against the fridge door, one hand still clutching the medicine bottle, the other resting on Ollie's back.
Rachel stood frozen, her lips twitching as if she wanted to say something but couldn't get the words out.
"Carter?" Her voice was uncertain.
I woke up instantly.
It was like muscle memory. Hearing Mom's voice made my eyes snap open.
"Ollie's already had his medicine," I said quietly.
I kept my voice down, not wanting to wake Ollie.
Rachel crouched down and touched Ollie's forehead, her face going pale.
"Why is he so burning up?" she asked.
I handed her the medicine bottle.
"I only gave him half a dose. I was afraid too much might kill him," I said.
Rachel's hand shook a little.
Dylan stood in the doorway, yawning.
"It's a fever. Don't act like it's the end of the world," he said.
Rachel didn't say a word.
I looked up at her.
I waited for her to chew Dylan out.
I waited for her to say, "Don't talk about Ollie that way."
I waited for her to at least shoot Dylan a glare.
But Rachel stared at Ollie.
Her makeup was ruined by the rain, mascara smeared all over her face, making her look kind of haunting.
But for the first time, she didn't look like some twenty-something. She looked like an adult who suddenly realized she didn't belong here.
Dylan added, "They're fine. It's just a cold. Don't let two kids mess up your life."
I repeated his last words in my mind.
The kitchen was so quiet when he said that.
Rachel didn't respond right away.
She lowered her head, pressing her palm to Ollie's burning forehead.
Watching Rachel say nothing, I felt my heart sink.
Later, Rachel called a cab and took Ollie to the ER.
She had me get in too.
I sat in the back, clutching Ollie's blue jacket in my arms. Dylan didn't come with us. He said hospitals reeked and went home to sleep.
*****
The ER was bright.
The nurse asked, "Who's his guardian?"
Rachel said, "I am."
I stood nearby and spoke up, "He can't take amoxicillin. He had a rash last time."
The nurse looked at me.
Rachel also looked at me.
I looked down.
"And he needs his blue blanket to sleep, or he'll start crying," I told the nurse.
As soon as I said it, Rachel's hand flew to her mouth.
It wasn't like she didn't know about Ollie's allergy.
She hadn't had to be the person who remembered these things for a long time.
Turned out Ollie caught a virus. The doctor said it was no big deal.
But Rachel sat motionless in the hallway, not moving an inch.
I sat next to her, so tired that my eyelids kept sneaking kisses, but I didn't dare let myself drift off.
I was scared that if I fell asleep, Ollie might need something again.
Before dawn, Rachel said to me, "I'm sorry."
After she apologized, I asked, "Do I still have to go to school today?"
Rachel turned to look at me.
My eyes were all red, and there was still dirt from the kitchen floor smeared on my face.
"I've got a quiz," I said.
Rachel broke down in tears.
I watched her cry, but it didn't ease anything inside me.
I'd seen Rachel cry before.
She cried when she lost her job, when she fought with her friends, and when she got drunk and ranted about how life screwed her over.
For me, tears never meant things would get better.
Sometimes, they were a break before she walked out the door again.