My head was pounding. It was a dull ache, but oddly, it felt like an out-of-body experience. The pulsing was light and consistent, almost hypnotic even. It took a while to realize I wasn’t dreaming it, and it wasn’t just in my head. There was a voice, too. 

I opened my eyes a little, staring through the haze of sleep that threatened to pull me back in. A small silhouette stared back, its hand retracting from my head. Then it sniffled and shivered a little, whispering, “Parker, are you awake?” 

“Yes. Yes, I’m up.” I sat up, rubbing my eyes awake. Squinting at the clock on my wall, I tried to read the time. It was too dark, and too far away to make out where the hands stood. I checked my phone, stunned to see Jamie was in my room at 2am. “What’s wrong?” 

“I had a bad dream. Can I sleep here?” he begged, voice shaky, and eyes moist with unshed tears. “I knocked on mom and dad’s room but they didn’t hear me.” 

“Of course.” I shifted on the bed, giving him space to climb in next to me. He was more than eager to do so. Jamie shimmied under the sheets, his breathing evening out into a consistent rhythm. 

“Are you comfortable?” 

He nodded, snuggling closer to me and grabbing my arm. I patted his head, and he smiled a little. “When will Sam be back?” 

“I don’t know,” I said, swallowing down the frustration that had began to bubble up my throat. I took a deep breath, reminding myself that I had spoken about Sam with Adrián, and I didn’t have to stress over talking it out with Jamie. “What did she tell you? Before she left?” 

“That she’s taking a little break to see how it goes. And she’ll come back when she’s better. Is she sick?” He lifted his head, staring at me hard to make sure I won’t lie about it. 

“No, just tired.” 

After a harsh scrutinising, Jamie decided my answer was good enough, and turned over to sleep. As I stared up at the ceiling, I realized the last time I’d interacted with Jamie was this morning when he got dropped off at school. And it dawned on me in such a jarring way—I wasn’t the one who picked him up. Even scarier was the fact that I got here before our parents did. 

I tried hard to keep my voice calm as I asked, “Jamie, how did you get home today?” 

“Mia’s brother,” he sighed. “Miss told me to leave with them, ‘cause it was getting dark and no one came.” 

I tried to remember where I’d heard that name until it finally clicked. Mia was the kid who told Jamie I’d grow hair underneath my cast, so her brother was the one who broke his hand. I thought about how Adrián had said I was a great sibling, and how wrong he’d been. Throughout the day, I hadn’t stopped to think about how Sam’s leaving affected not only me. About how Jamie was going to get the bigger blow, with how close he was to her. 

Our parents hired a driver to take Jamie to and from school, but whenever Sam was home, she took up that job. I had no idea if she’d told them she was leaving, and whether they’d thought to call the driver if she had. Either way, I didn’t want to ask any of them about it. 

“I’ll come pick you up when I can. If it’s late and I’m not there, join Mia. Okay?” I told him.

Jamie’s body twitched, and I took that as a yes. 

Morning couldn’t have come sooner. Sleep eluded me, and if not for the few minutes I dozed off, I was pretty much awake for the rest of the night. 

I got Jamie to shower while I made breakfast and packed his lunch. By the time I was done, my parents were leaving for work. 

Charlotte’s heels clicked noisily on the tiles as she moved, phone glued to her ear, and mouth moving as quickly as her feet. She acknowledged me with a nod as she passed, nothing more. Adam followed at a similar pace, but the sound of his polished shoes gliding on the tiles came to a halt when he saw me. 

I knew what his problem was, and the longer his gaze remained without a word leaving his lips, the closer I got to caving in. I set Jamie’s plate of scrambled eggs and toast down. Wiping sweat off my forehead, I kept my eyes on the plate as I spoke. 

“I didn’t want to stain my clothes,” I said, because I had to give an explanation somehow. It would make things easier, so he wouldn’t take the apron I had on to mean anything deeper than it was meant to. 

His expression remained taut, but he looked away and started moving again. I slumped forward, shaking slightly as relief flowed through my body. He’d told me to stay out of the kitchen several times already, that it wasn’t my place to be in there... ever. I never took it as a warning, just as a sign that he never had to see me in there. 

As I untied the apron, I heard him yell after my mother. “Charlotte, can you tell Martha we need her around?” 

The cook. Shit. 

“Her break is not over till Saturday.” 

“Let her know I’ll pay her double on the days she comes to work before then.” 

And that was that. 

I took off the apron and rolled it into a ball, shoving it into a drawer. Jamie skipped into the kitchen as I worked on clearing my plate. He had his shirt on backwards, and he was rocking a pair of mismatched socks. I couldn’t help but smile; we’d deal that after breakfast. 

While I searched through his closet for better clothes than the ones he’d picked, Jamie suddenly exclaimed in an excited voice. “Cool,” he said, stretching the syllable as far as it could go. “You got another writing!” 

“A what?” 

“On your cast. Another writing.” He pointed at my leg. 

Oh. Adrián’s signature. Now I was the excited one. “What does it say? Can you read it for me?” 

Jamie got on his knees, squinting at my cast. “It says ‘My.’” 

“My what?” I watched him crawl around, trying to read the rest of it. 

“My ssss... No, it is ‘Miss.’ It says ‘Miss’” 

“Miss what?” I asked again, unable to hide my eagerness. Now I was bending too, hoping to catch a glimpse of the dark ink. 

Jamie gave me a dirty look, annoyed at the interruptions. 

“Okay, I’ll stop. Go on.” 

“Miss Te—Terry! It says Miss Terry. And there’s a heart.” He looked up at me, a proud smile on his lips because he’d read something. “Your teacher really likes you.” 

Brimming over with happiness, I didn’t even think about correcting him then. Miss Terry would have to do. 

After getting ready, we headed out the door. Micky wasn’t late this time around, and he raised an eyebrow when he saw Jamie in tow. “Didn’t know I had to drive around freeloaders.” 

“Shut up. He’s my brother.” 

He looked at Jamie, eyebrows raised in surprise. The little boy mimicked his expression, and that cracked a laugh out of Micky. “Cute kid.” 

For the rest of the week, Micky was our chauffeur. He offered Jamie snacks sometimes, and that grounded their new friendship. In fact, he didn’t mind having to take detours to Jamie’s school whenever we got out early. They only ever met during our car trips, but they’d already gotten close enough to invent a secret handshake—which wasn’t much of a secret because I knew about it. 

I couldn’t recall the last time Jamie brought up Sam.

~~

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