Valentina Karas

Thanks to the traffic gods' smiling down on me, I completed the drive that should've been at least twenty-five minutes in a little over fifteen. An easy drive isn't the only surprise I'm met with. Mom's white Mercedes-Benz shares the garage with me after days of seldom seeing either of my parents. 

I find her wrapped in a blanket on the couch with the TV remote in her lap. From behind, I can't tell if she's napping or lounging. Either way, I get why she's trying to rest. Putting on a front around everyone outside of the family drains the life out of her and all the binge-watching Love Island in the world can't make everything perfect again. 

Just in case she's napping and doesn't want to be bothered, I quietly try to get her attention. "Mom?" 

Mom sends a startled glance in my direction to confirm it's me and manages a soft smile when she verifies the house isn't getting burgled. "Hey, V. How's your brother feeling?"

"Ronan stopped throwing up," I report. "He's doing great. The cabin fever's been hitting him hard, but his doctors said he's holding up well." 

Mom nods. "Let's enjoy it while it lasts." 

We all breathe a sigh of relief now that Ronan's first vomiting fit is over, but the doctors have warned us that the side effects are far from over. Even months into treatment, we'll never be fully prepared for them. It feels like for every step forward, there are five steps back, and the prospect of being cancer-free seems almost intangible.

"I'm glad you're home." 

A fatigued yawn escapes from Mom as she moves closer to me. "Me too, V."

After one hell of a week, watching Love Island and seeing Mom for the first time in days makes everything feel normal. As ridiculously scripted as it is, the show on the screen makes things feel more normal than they have been lately. Mom needed a little convincing to enjoy binge watching it with me and now the roles have reversed; the show turned into her band-aid on sucky days. 

We eventually get bored of Love Island drama, letting the show play in the background as we catch up. 

"How was your week?" I fill Mom in about my disaster of a math test and making up for it with the easier history test the next day. I'm lucky to have parents with reasonable expectations, so they've never given me a hard time about my grades. 

Mom nods, processing the information. "I'm sorry about your math. There are more tests to be taken, right?"

"You're right."

"How's Katelyn?" Her question catches me off guard, but to be fair, she hasn't seen her since everything hit the fan. Our normal life before everything happened feels like a lifetime ago. Speaking of which, tonight is her big date with Sawyer. 

"She's doing well. She's on a date with her boyfriend as we speak." 

She was ecstatic when she found out, planning her outfit to a T. It started a couple of hours ago and I haven't heard anything about how it's going. I know it's unrealistic to expect a play-by-play, but the silence is unlike her. Katelyn is usually quick to share every detail of her life, and her radio silence tonight only fuels my imagination.

Mom lets out a hum of shock. "That's nice. Is he a good guy?" 

"I mean, he's weird, but he's far from a jerk," I confide. 

"As long as he doesn't treat her like shit," she comments. 

Hearing Mom swear is pretty rare, so I can't help but chuckle. "They're a cute couple."

"It's perfectly fine if the answer is no," she begins, a curious smirk foreshadowing her question, "I don't think I've heard you mention any boys you like. Or girls, that's wonderful too. At least we don't have to worry about you getting pregnant."

I scrunch my nose, mirroring Ronan's reaction to my inappropriate basketball joke from earlier. "Okay, Mom." 

In my mind, it's too early to tell her about Asher. We just met and it's hard to tell if he's even remotely interested. I'd hate to get Mom's hopes up for nothing: she wants me to make my studies a priority but also wants me to have a normal high school experience, to an extent. 

Talking to Asher feels like turning my back on the family. At any other point in time, I wouldn't be so plagued with guilt about something. I never want Ronan to feel as if I'm abandoning him for a silly guy. The problem is Asher isn't merely a stupid teenage boy. In our generation, it's rare to meet guys who actually care about other people. 

Mom's smirk drops, replaced by her comforting smile. "Is there anyone, V?" 

Instead of answering the question, I engage in a staring contest with her. Mom sees right through my silence and raises her eyebrows at me, taking my staring at her like a deer in headlights as a yes.

Thankfully she leaves it at, "It's okay to have feelings for someone, but you don't have to talk about it," rather than pestering me. Other girls' moms either turn this conversation into a lecture or become so obsessed with the idea of someone else's teenage son it's borderline pedophilia. It was unexpected enough for Mom to open that can of worms and I'm grateful she isn't blowing my confession out of proportion.

We spend the rest of our evening catching up. As we talk about life and our weeks, Asher gradually drifts to the back of my mind. Life has been pretty hectic lately and will no doubt get crazier from here, but I enjoy every minute of our conversation.

Mom is in the middle of a story from work when Dad walks in with his phone pressed to his ear. Whoever is on the other side of the line is making him smile like a middle school girl, making Mom and I share a look. Although he sometimes has the maturity of a frat boy, I've never seen Dad this giddy about anything. He ends the call when he notices our suspicious glances. 

"Good evening, Tim." Mom forces herself to smile, tension rising in what should've been a relaxing night. I understand she's under a lot of stress and their marriage hasn't been cupcakes and rainbows, but I've never seen an interaction between my parents this awkward.

Dad gives Mom a curt nod, his giddy smile disappearing. "How has you two's evening been?"

"Not bad," I reply. 

Unlike his nonchalant acknowledgement of Mom, he instantly smiles when he hears my voice. "V, long time no see." Dad wraps me in one of his Old Spice scented hugs.

"I missed you, Dad."

He smiles warmly at me before turning to Mom. "Sorry about earlier, you two. There was a problem with a project at work and we just sorted it out. It was stressful for everyone and a big weight has been lifted."

I accept his explanation, but Mom eyes him dubiously. There's a fleeting look in her eyes that I can't quite place—something between worry and resignation. I can tell she thinks that was a bullshit excuse and doesn't explain his behavior. 

An irritated look crosses Mom's face. "Are you going to ask about your son, Tim?"

"I was getting to that, Shai," he booms. 

Sensing an argument on the horizon, I provide an update about Ronan to hopefully put out the tension. "Ronan's doing alright. He can't wait to come home."

"Are you even excited to see your son?" Mom hisses.

"Of course, honey," he says with an uncomfortable smile. "It's been too quiet around here."

As my parents glare at each other, I pick my brain for anything I can do or say to dissolve the tension. If I counted the number of feuds I've witnessed with my own eyes I'd only need a few fingers, hence why I never know what to do in these situations. I could tell both of them to take a chill pill, but I know better than to involve myself in their business. Part of me also wants to sober them with the understanding that their son could die and the last thing Ronan needs is a family that's in pieces more than it is.

With no clue how to handle this, I kiss my parents good night and go to my room. Pompeii is bound to erupt in the living room and inhaling the ash is the last thing I want to do. Once I'm alone, I exhale knowing my parents can hash their problems on their own. 

The ins and outs of their marriage aren't my business, but that doesn't negate that their arguments get more intense as the days go by. They're so used to being away from each other with work and stuff that when they're in the same room, all hell breaks loose. Even a blind person can see that they're getting on each other's nerves.

I put my Airpods in so I don't have to hear any of it. They thankfully haven't resorted to calling each other degrading names, but I'm not typically a fan of even the most minor of conflicts. Music does more than merely help my anxious and self conscious brain relax; I've also come to realize it's a great distraction.

A notification from Katelyn comes in. I click it, expecting a debrief about her date with Sawyer in our group chat. Unfortunately, all that I see is a holy fuck y'all, that was great with no context. It's hard to tell if any funny business occurred or if Sawyer was a gentleman, a jackass, or something in between. Katelyn doesn't beat around the bush, but it isn't unheard of for her to be sarcastic. I'm hoping it doesn't mean she got dumped.

Layla acknowledges the update first. Yes ma'am Katelyn, she types. Though not as in your face and energetic as Katelyn, her positivity is just as infectious.

Riley, the nosiest out of the four of us, replies next. She's just as curious as I am, but the difference between us is she makes her curiosity known. so did y'all run the bases tonight?, her reply reads. I chuckle at her TMI question that's no doubt making Katelyn want to barf up the Italian food she had on her date. 

Katelyn spares the details with a simple, i'll tell you everything tomorrow. valentina that means you too. i know you aren't sure but as my best friend, the offer's still on the table.

We'll miss you at begonia's but we totally understand, Riley chimes in. 

Unsure what to say to my friends, I switch gears and start getting ready for bed. I would stay in my leggings, the most comfortable thing behind my birthday suit, but it's against my better judgment to fall asleep in my dirty clothes. 

Once I'm out of my clothes, I go to my bathroom. A glance in the mirror tells me that my mascara's running, leaving thick black circles around my eyes that exacerbate how tired I look. I waste no time running a makeup wipe across my eyes and silently pray Asher didn't notice how fucked up I look. I immediately feel self conscious, wondering why someone like him gives someone as messed up as me the time of day, even if it's platonic. The mintiness of my toothpaste snaps me out of my self hatred and back into my silent reality. 

My parents are seemingly done with their spat. Unfortunately I know better than to get comfortable with the peace: once the first volcanic eruption has passed, it always comes back with a vengeance and the lava burns if you don't keep your distance.

Back in my room, my bed looks as tempting as shirtless Justin Bieber with a rose between his perfect teeth. I crawl under my covers and open Snapchat where my friends resumed their dress shopping conversation without me. This time, I'm rethinking the trip to Begonia's. 

~

There's no need to leave my bed to feel my parents walking on eggshells in the next room. Last night's edginess mingles with the coffee-scented kitchen, a bizarre combination but one that perfectly captures my family's predicament. I hear the quiet clinking of dishes and the hushed tones of conversation, strained and careful.

I pull myself out of bed, trying to get over the tension lingering from last night. Today is supposed to be a break from all that—a day out shopping with my friends and a much needed catch up with Katelyn, Layla, and Riley. I tell myself to calm down but as the world's biggest worrier, it's counterproductive and makes my hands shaky throughout my morning routine.

The idea of shopping for a Homecoming dress feels like counting my chickens before they hatch. What if Asher doesn't even ask me and he was just trying to be helpful while Ronan's in the hospital? What if I'm just setting myself up for disappointment? I distract myself from the what-ifs and concentrate on brushing my hair.

Mom is at the kitchen table, her eyes scanning through emails on her tablet. Dad is by the counter, pouring himself another cup of coffee. They both look up when I enter the room, their smiles artificial.

"Morning," I say, keeping my tone light. My parents' fights aren't my fault, but I need to be careful to not instigate anything.

"Good morning, V. How did you sleep?" Dad drops the passive aggressive undertone in his voice. 

"Fine."

Mom examines me from head to toe. "You look pretty," she comments. Pretty is a bit of a stretch since all I did was swap my lounging around clothes for a grey crop top and mom jeans with a little bit more makeup than I've been wearing lately. There's a chance I won't have a reason to put this much effort into my appearance for a while so I figured I'd do it today.

"Yeah, V. Do you have any plans today?" Dad asks, he and Mom on the same page about something throwing me off.

I nod. "My friends are going to Mountain View's homecoming next week and they're shopping for dresses." 

"MV, huh?" Dad looks shocked, but I'm sure he's pleased to hear me mention his high school. He graduated from Mountain View with stellar grades and was a decorated runner. Decades later, he fondly reflects on his experience. He convinced me to go on a tour of the snobby private school, but side eyes from a few students let me know I wasn't welcome for some reason. 

Mom raises an eyebrow, astonished that I mentioned the same school I refused to attend my freshman year. "Didn't see that coming."

In true fatherly fashion, Dad's face turns serious. "Well, do you have a date?" 

"I'm just going as moral support." While it's mostly true, my fingers are crossed that a certain boy with dimples asks me to go with him.

Mom knows I'm lying because of our conversation last night, but she stays quiet for my clueless dad. "Alright, V. Have fun, okay?"

"Yeah. You deserve a break. You can't pour from an empty cup." The hypocrisy in Dad's statement earns him a side eye from Mom. I take that as my cue to head to the boutique on the Mountain View side of town as far away from the snippy remarks as possible. 

~

Okay, I fucked up.

Coming on this trip was so last minute that I forgot to tell anyone I would be there. It will be a pleasant surprise on my end. As I approach the boutique, I can already see the backs of my friends' heads. The sun is shining, and for a moment, it feels like everything is normal again. Today, I can focus on spending time with my friends and leave all of my problems at the door.

Riley is the first to notice me and her eyes widen like saucers. To my surprise, my talkative friend stays quiet and doesn't say a word to my other two friends. Katelyn and Layla naturally find out that I'm here when they turn around.

Katelyn wraps me in a knock the wind out of you hug before I can get a hello, how are you out? "V, you made it." 

"Hey guys." I let out a nervous chuckle, overwhelmed at all of the attention from my enthusiastic friends. 

Riley shakes her head, her red ponytail flinching a little from the motion. "I definitely saw this coming," she comments, her voice derisive.

"I don't know about those two, but this made my day a lot better." Layla's hug doesn't knock the rest of the wind out of me. "Does this mean you're giving Asher a chance?"

I shrug, trying to deflect attention from my feelings for Asher. "Come on, y'all. We haven't hung out since the party."

Layla and Katelyn accept my excuse, but Riley shoots me a knowing look. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, girl." 

We approach the pricey boutique, but turn around when a sign on the door tells us to come back in fifteen minutes. Begonia's being closed means there's more time to check in with everyone. We spot a table close to the store and have a seat. Despite the murky situation back home, the weather is stellar. It's a clear and sunny day, warmth lingering in the air and a slight breeze balancing out the heat. 

"So Katelyn, is there something you want to tell us?" Riley tilts her head in Katelyn's direction with her trademark mischievous grin. 

I join Riley's interrogation. "How's Mr. Long doing?"

On the other hand, Katelyn doesn't find it funny. My outgoing best friend looks like she wants to crawl into a hole and die. I can't tell what that means. Did something happen on the date that means they're not going to Homecoming together anymore?

Her silence indicates we're on a slippery slope of getting on her nerves, but her body language does a one eighty when she perks up. "Guess who has a boyfriend?"

"What the fuck?" Riley exclaims. A bland elderly couple glares at us. It's bad enough she's cussing in front of old people, especially when they're likely too closed minded to accept that she's lesbian. The loud redhead doesn't seem to give two shits about them, however. It's her world and we're just living in it.

I squeeze Katelyn's tan forearm. "That's amazing. You two are the cutest."

"Welcome to the club." Layla and Katelyn shake hands as if they're businesswomen. "When is our first double date?"

Katelyn is on cloud nine as she talks about how amazing of a person Sawyer is. Her enthusiasm rubs off on all of us, yet I can't shake my jealousy. Layla and her boyfriend are basically married at this point, now Katelyn's picture perfect relationship is in its infancy. Not knowing if Asher reciprocates my crush makes me feel three million steps behind my friends.

"Congratulations, bitch." Riley's having a field day with the news. She's always happy to celebrate her straight friends' wins and we always return the favor when she's head over heels for a girl. 

Layla shakes her head. "Didn't you almost kill Sawyer the first time you met him?"

"He was being an ass," Riley justifies. "I'm happy for you."

Katelyn responds with a smile and eye roll. "Yeah, he's pretty odd."

"Be nice to Sawyer," Layla's voice is stern like the voice of an irritated mom of young kids who enjoy antagonizing each other. 

Katelyn narrows her eyes, but the excited sparkle in them remains. "I am nice, Layla." 

Evidently not satisfied with her grilling, Riley chimes in. "So, did you kiss?" 

"It wasn't the first time, but yes." Katelyn lets out a nostalgic sigh. Even with reddened cheeks and a goofy grin, it's obvious Sawyer and many other people admire how gorgeous my best friend is. 

"That's awesome," I muse, wondering if I'll ever be able to tell my friends something and match her excitement. 

"Okay, enough about me," Katelyn says, waving her hands as if to brush away the spotlight. "Riley, how's Sophia?" 

"Woah." It's Riley's turn to be embarrassed now that it's her turn to answer TMI questions from us. Her self tanner isn't as dark as it was a couple of weeks ago, making the flush on her cheeks more obvious. "Good, I guess. I think it might work this time." 

She has more energy in her finger than I have in my entire body, but we have an unfortunate love life in common. When she isn't drawing attention to herself, she's the kind of person who understands she doesn't have to fix every single thing, making people come to her as a listening year. She can also keep a secret: say the words and her lips are zipped. It's beyond me how someone like Riley Johnson is struggling.

"This has been a great conversation, but we should probably head back soon," Layla, the most patient and sensible member of our friend group, stands up with folded arms. "Begonia's should be open by now."

Layla and Katelyn are going to homecoming with boyfriends, and Riley has a date with a girl as "friends", so they're more excited than I am to scour Begonia's for something to remember next Saturday by. I'm the only one unsure of where I stand, never mind if there's anything for me to stand on.

I swallow the lump in my throat, ready to be the best cheerleader I can.

~

thanks for reading sixteen. this took so long y'all don't understand. huge shoutout to @katiegoesmew for agreeing to give me constructive criticism. from what i've heard, she's awesome. 

even though i likely won't win, i entered a dance with cancer into the wattys! i hope this helps get this amazing story out there.