Angeline retreated to the front, where Sammy appeared, his red shirt around his waist, a cup of ice chips in his hand.
“How did this happen?” Mrs. Torres said. “Was there a label? We will have your father talk to the lawyer and see what recourse we have. Did you see a specialist? Where is the nurse?”
“Mom, take a breath. No lawyers, no specialist.” Leo must have noticed the fear on Sammy’s face, because he sat up higher and said, “I can’t be beet-en down, right, Sam-o?”
Despite his nervousness, Sammy casually shrugged. “Beets me.”
Leo grinned. “I like to be up on things, but I’ve been thinking, might not be so bad to miss a beet.”
Sammy set the ice chips on the pink plastic tray by Leo’s bed. “Tell me what you really think, bro. Stop beeting around the bush.”
“Enough, you two,” Mrs. Torres said, but her tone had softened. She set a hand on Leo’s forehead. “I have a thing for symmetry, you know. Pictures would be completely lopsided if you weren’t in them.”
Leo’s chest expanded. “Mom, I . . .” Tears crept into his eyes, and Angeline’s throat tightened.
The nurse from earlier appeared. “A tad crowded in here, folks. Let’s have a couple of you in the waiting room, ’kay?”
As if she remembered they weren’t alone, Mrs. Torres shot up straight and directed a nasty look at Angeline.
Leo mouthed a “Sorry,” but Angeline simply offered a feeble, “Feel better,” before heading toward the stiff plastic chairs in the waiting room.
She’ll never forgive me.
Angeline hugged the angel wings to her chest, watching cars turn into the lot in front of the hospital.
If she wouldn’t, did that mean Leo couldn’t?
Slowly, Angeline eased into one of the blue chairs, her back straightening as Sammy approached. “Hey, hey,” she said, playfully waving the angel wings.
“I don’t like you anymore,” he said.
She wanted to fold in on herself. “I know.”
“He does. He pretends he doesn’t, but he does.”
Angeline tried to push her heartbeat back down to her chest.
“So I might have to learn to like you,” Sammy said.
Angeline carefully said, “Okay.”
“This . . . you being with him. I’m glad . . . I’m glad he wasn’t alone.” His face was so round and his skin so smooth. He might have been a freshman in high school, but he was barely fourteen, had a birthday right before the school year started. “He really going to be okay?”
“He really is.” Her heart pinched thinking of Leo and Sammy and how close they were despite their age difference. Or maybe because of their age difference. One of them got to be the big brother and one of them the little. She and Cat never knew what it was like to not be in lockstep with the other.
Sammy shuffled forward and sat beside Angeline.
She let the silence become uncomfortable, ensuring his relief at having her break it. “So, here’s the thing. I’ve apologized to Leo, but I realize now that I never apologized to you. I shouldn’t have done what I did. I’m sorry I hurt your brother. But I’m sorry I hurt you too.”
Sammy’s eyes narrowed and then relaxed. “Apology accepted.”
“Really? I mean, thanks, Sammy. That’s really mature of you.”
“Eh, I’ve been considering it for a while. Just haven’t done anything about it. But that’s what makes doing nothing hard—you never know when you’re done.” He smirked, and Angeline realized how much she missed him. She started to say as much when he added, “Besides, enough tension at home, don’t need it in school too.”
“What’s going on at home?”
Sammy tugged at an already raw cuticle.
“It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. Leo mentioned something about your mom, so I get it.”
“He told you?”
“Nothing specific.”
He shifted to face her, and all she could see was Leo. He was there in the angle of Sammy’s chin, the broadness of shoulders yet to fill out, the appearance of perfection masking the cracks everyone had but the Torres brothers weren’t allowed to show.
“She’s under a lot of pressure. The race is the biggest she’s ever been in. She’s hardly around. And even when she’s around, she’s still not really around, you know?”
Angeline nodded. Cat used to say the same about their dad.
“She and Leo are barely speaking. It’s been weird. More weird. Ever since she had that emergency meeting with Principal Schwartz at the end of last year.”
“Schwartz?” Leo never said anything to her. “Meeting about what?”
Sammy shrugged. “Beats me.” He laughed at his unintentional pun.
Heels clicked on the hard, sterile tiles, and Mrs. Torres aimed for the reception desk. Angeline stood.
“Not sure I was supposed to say anything,” he said, spine rigid as if he were suddenly balancing a book on his head. “Don’t tell anyone?”
“I won’t. You’re a good brother, Sammy.”
She left because she couldn’t stay. There wasn’t a place for her here anymore.
Outside, the sky clung to hints of blue and yellow and muted pink—that in-between-day-and-night sky, where without any context, time could play out in either direction.
She hadn’t thought to call for a ride-share. This wasn’t Boston, and the wait could be twenty minutes. She headed toward a bench when a sputtering resounded from the parking lot. A silver hatchback inched out of a spot two rows over and pulled up in front.
Their silver hatchback.
“Is everything all right?” Cat asked.
No. But at least now she could admit it.
22
When Cat Considers the Merits of Butterscotch
10 DAYS TO THE ELECTION
Cat unlocked the door to their apartment. Her sister had been quiet on the ride. Not texting or watching YouTube or recording memos to herself for her next video, just fingering that pair of white woolen angel wings she still had in her hands.
“Mom wrangled Gramps into having a salad at the gastropub,” Cat said as Angeline sunk into the couch instead of immediately disappearing into their bedroom, claiming the space as hers like she normally did when it was just the two of them. It unnerved her.