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“So, what’d you think?” my brother asks when the movie’s over.
“Aren’t we supposed to wait for the part after the credits?” I ask.
Marco shrugs. “You can watch it, but you probably won’t understand it unless you’ve seen the other movies.” He turns off the TV. “What now? Think you’re ready to join your class at the lake? Senior trip. That’s a pretty big deal.”
I hate the fact that all my friends are at my cabin with my mom having a great time without me, but I’m also sick enough that I know when to count my losses.
“I don’t think I’m up for it,” I tell my brother. “But thanks anyway.”
He looks disappointed. Maybe Mom told him that if he nursed me back to health before my big weekend camping trip was over she’d give him an extra bonus. The worst part of the day is not being able to get in touch with anyone out there. Marco said something earlier about Mom having to take my cell. I can’t believe that in addition to missing out on my own senior trip, I can’t even text my friends to find out what they’re doing.
Then an idea strikes me. “Hey, do you have Chris’s number in your phone?”
“Chris?” Marco feigns ignorance. “Who’s Chris?”
“What do you mean who’s Chris? My boyfriend.”
“Oh. That Chris.” Marco clears his throat. “No, I don’t think so. Why?”
“I just wanted to see how he’s doing.” A nagging thought looms in the back of my head. “Hey, I know you have his number because you were the one he texted to figure out what I wanted for my birthday last year. Remember that?”
“Oh. Yeah. But I didn’t save it or anything.” He lets out a chuckle. “Truth be told, I didn’t think you two’d be together that long.”
I glare at him, and he shrugs. “Sorry.”
“Could you at least check?” I ask.
Marco pulls out his phone, swipes at his screen a couple times, and announces, “Nope. Nothing from anyone named Chris.”
I groan, and my brother aims the remote at the TV again. “Hey, since you’re being such a good sport about all this, let’s watch another movie. This time you pick. How about a romcom?”
We’re halfway into Thirteen Going on Thirty when Dad comes into the living room. “Marco, can I talk to you?”
My brother leaves the movie going, but I hit pause once he leaves. My brain craves the silence, even if only for a few minutes.
“I’ve got the detective on the phone right now,” Dad is hissing from the foyer. “He’s on his way over to talk to Mia.”
For a minute, I wonder if this is some fever-induced hallucination. I certainly feel sick enough to have made something like this up, but the concern in my brother’s voice is unmistakable.
“What? He can’t come over here. Not today.”
Some sort of muffled exchange. I don’t think I’d be able to follow their conversation if my life depended on it.
It feels strange hearing my Dad and Marco talking to each other at all. What’s going on?
“... going to want to question her,” Dad whispers.
“It’ll be fine,” Marco says. “I’ll take care of everything.” I don’t know what to make of this new cooperative attitude between them.
“Like you did before?” Dad snaps. This is more like it. The two of them always on edge with each other.
The strain of trying to listen in is too great. I make my way toward the stairs.
“Where are you going?” Marco calls to me a moment later.
“I need to lie down,” I tell him.
A minute later I’m in bed, and he’s handing me more water and another set of pills for my headache.
“What were you and Dad arguing about?” I ask. There’s something that’s not connecting in my brain. Maybe it’s this headache. Maybe it’s from being sick. I feel like I should understand more than I do. This whole day has felt like I’m listening to everything in a foreign language. I know the individual words but am slower piecing them together than I should be.
Marco gives a little chuckle. “Oh, nothing. Dad’s just worried about work stuff. You know how he gets.”
I take the pills and the cup of water my brother’s holding out. “Thanks,” I say. I had no idea that watching one and a half movies would make me so tired. I feel like I’m ready to sleep for the rest of the day and all through the night as well. So much for trying to get better in time to make it to my senior trip.
I hope they’re all having a good time. When Mom comes back with my phone, I’ll get to see all the pictures. In the meantime, I’m too sleepy to even care that I’m not there with my friends.
“Have a good nap,” Marco tells me, pulling the blankets up to my chin as if I were a toddler. “Sleep as long as you’d like. Your body needs the rest.”