The Fourth of July is around the corner. For the last month, I've been trying to keep my cool, but I don't think I can anymore. Andrea's been worse and mostly in the hospital. Myrtle's been a mess. She visits Andrea whenever she can. But I feel like she's been using it as an excuse. Maddox has been driving her to and from work a lot. Also to and from the hospital.

When I asked what the deal was, she said she was taking advantage of the vehicle. Something about it being smarter than taking a public bus. I agree to an extent. But does the driver have to be Maddox?

***

Myrtle and I are watching some random soap on TV. Andrea is in the hospital again. Michelle and Stephie are taking showers. Or rather, Stephie is in the showering and Michelle is waiting her turn. I want to bring up the subject of Maddox, but the man himself is suddenly in the living room.

"Charlie's having a party on the fourth," he says, approaching the couch. "He asked if I could invite the five of you."

"What time?" Myrtle asks, not giving me a chance to reply before her. "Andrea might still be in the hospital that day."

"He said something about five-thirty, but you can be there later if you can't make it earlier."

"I may not want to go," I say, looking at Myrtle.

"You don't have to," she replies, shrugging. "But this Charlie asking. Thank him for the invitation, I'll see if I can make it."

Her gaze returns to Maddox and they exchange a nod. A knowing nod. What the hell?

When Maddox leaves, I slap Myrtle's thigh.

"What's that for?" she gasps.

"Since when were you two chums?" I ask, pointing a thumb in the direction Maddox just went.

"You know what, to heck with how you'll react. I called a truce with Maddox. We work in the same comic store. It needs to be a pleasant environment so we don't scare customers. And if he's willing to drive me places, when he's free, I'll take it."

"You're not worried that he's just stringing you along and setting you up to stumble?"

Myrtle looks like she's about to refute, but then she sighs.

"He'll stumble before I do," she says, shaking her head. "And if I do stumble afterwards, at least I'll hit something soft on the way down."

She doesn't say this with anger and malice. She's calm, pulled together and resolved.

"If you have something against him, that's your choice," Myrtle goes on, shrugging. "I can understand why you feel that way. But he wasn't the one doing that to you. Not every guy is out to get you."

I'm speechless as she turns back to the TV. I do the same, but I'm not seeing the sappy soap. I'm seeing a blur of color.

***

I'm back home. How am I back home?

I walk through the house, so familiar. The peach colored walls and the photo frames. The smell of sweets baking in the kitchen. And then I hear it. The most wonderful sound. My mother's laughter. Tears fill my eyes as I try to find her. But as I run through the house, the hallway stretches, making it harder for me to reach the end.

The door to my mother's bedroom is so far away. And then, a light shines into the long hallway. My mother is standing in the doorway and her hand is stretched out to me. But she's so far away. I start to scream as I run harder, reaching for her.

Why can't I reach her?!

I cry out. And like a warped blackhole, the hallway stretches even further. Sending my mama's door further away for miles.

***

"Honey, wake up."

"It's just a dream, sweetie."

I'm crying. I'm pushing away whatever is trying to grab me.

"Honey, snap out of it!"

Something very wet hits my face and I sit up gasping.

"There she is."

I blow the water out of my mouth and wipe my face. And then I glare at the four girls staring back at me.

"I'm awake, thank you," I say, a bit too harshly.

"You were also having a nightmare," Myrtle says, reaching up to move a soggy braid out of my face. "A pretty bad one, from how you woke up just now. Want to talk about it?"

I shake my head and close my eyes, taking deep breaths.

"Well, it's after nine and I heard your social worker in the office."

"Okay," I whisper. Something soft touches my cheek. I open my eyes as Myrtle is leaving the room with Andrea.

"It was Mama, wasn't it?" Stephie asks, bouncing onto my mattress. "I heard you crying for her before Michelle went to get Myrtle. Andrea was just getting back from the hospital."

"What's the social worker here for?" I ask, sitting up and rubbing the sleep, and the tears, from my eyes.

"No idea," Michelle replies, shrugging. "But I pray it means we have a visit. I don't mind the random visit if it means seeing Mama."

"Then I'm going to change and march into that office to find out."

I get out of bed and go to my closet. I select a pair of burgundy jeans and a black top. I then rush to the bathroom because it's the safest place to change. As I'm walking, I see Myrtle and Andrea at the end of the hallway. With Maddox. His lips are moving, so he's saying something. I don't read lips, so I have no idea what he's saying, But when he puts a set of keys into Myrtle's hand, I suppose it has to do with his car.

I'm about to call out to them, but he disappears. Right after having glanced at me. His shoulders had deflated. Like he was disappointed I was suddenly nearby. What does that mean? I don't understand why Myrtle puts up with him still. She has every reason to stay away from him. I just feel like he's out to get her. In a bad way. That is my experience with boys.