Paper Thin

God, this entire di

“You know that’s not what I want. It’s not going to happen, no matter how hard you try to push me away,” Dawson replied. I didn’t wait to hear the rest of their conversation. It felt too intrusive.

Instead, I crept back down the hall toward my room. After making myself comfortable on my bed again, I attempted to focus on my laptop screen once more. Sadie had worked her magic with my professors and gotten them to agree to allow her to email me notes and assignments for the time being. I was grateful, because it allowed me to finish out my semester, but knew this wasn’t something I could continue to do, not if I pla

Pinching the bridge of my nose between my forefinger and thumb, I pushed away the debate I had been having since my talk with Sadie earlier today. I was coming to a crossroads, one where I would be forced to decide whether I went back to Bradley University and my old life in the dorms, or stay in Parish Cove to take care of those I loved. With the way Emma was acting, it didn’t look as though I would have much of a choice in the matter. She needed me, whether she cared to admit it or not.

I turned my attention back to the crap I was doing for my introduction to managerial accounting course, and forced myself to finish what I had been working on.

“Knock, knock.” The door to my bedroom swung open an hour later. Dawson poked his head into my room, while his body remained shielded behind my door.

“Hey,” I muttered. A yawn escaped me. I closed my laptop and rubbed my eyes.

“How’s it going?”

“Okay.” I stretched my legs out in front of me, trying not to wince from how stiff they felt. “I think I’m done for the night.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah. Actually, I should be thanking you for the interruption. You saved me from a hellacious headache.” The begi

“Good.” A sad smile broke onto his face. “At least I know I’m good for something.”

I hated the sad and defeated look on his face. “Why do you say that?” I knew why. I remembered the bits of his and Emma’s conversation I’d overheard.

“Because I’m failing when it comes to getting your sister through this.” His hand left my door to run through his hair. The door swung open, revealing the rest of him. His cargo shorts and plain gray T-shirt made him look so laid-back, but I knew he was wound tight. We both were. Seeing Emma bitter and angry was not something either of us were used to.

“No, you’re not.” I shook my head, and slipped off my bed to move toward him. “You’re doing the best you can. She’s in a really bad spot right now. The doctors said it could take a while, remember?”

He released a long exhale and brought his blue eyes to meet mine. There was hope swirling in them. I was so grateful to be the one who had put it there again. “You’re right.” He flashed me a small smile. “You didn’t have to stay in here. You were more than welcome to join us, you know.”

“I know. I just figured the two of you would appreciate a little time alone together.”

“We did. Sort of.” His face fell again.

“Things will get better.” The words sounded stale in my mouth. I’d said them too many times, to both him and myself. I wasn’t even sure I believed them anymore.

Something passed over Dawson’s face, making me wonder if he felt the same. “Listen, I wasn’t sure if you ate yet, so I made you a plate in the kitchen. There’s also beer. If you want one.” He surprised me by saying.

“I already ate, but a beer sounds nice. Thanks.”

“Mind if I stay for a bit, and have one with you?”

“No, not at all.” Tension pulled at my insides as the moment became awkward. “Where’s Emma?”

“She went to bed. Said she was tired.”

“Oh. Okay.” The desire to make sure she was all right flared deep within me, but I fought it, knowing nothing I could say would make Emma feel better. If she was pissed at Dawson, she would prefer to stew alone. She’d made that clear before.

“So, how about that beer?” Dawson rocked on his heels, and crammed his hands into his front pockets. “I could use one right about now.”

I laughed. “Me too.”

“After you.” He motioned for me to move past him into the hall.

“Thanks.” I flipped my bedroom light off as I slipped by him. Unable to help it, I glanced at my sister’s door. It was closed, and there didn’t seem to be any lights on. I would have to talk to her tomorrow. See what she said about the di

Once we reached the kitchen, I headed straight for the fridge. I pulled the door open and grabbed two beers. They were just my type, dark and full-flavored. I handed one to Dawson. “Wa

“Sure.”

I gripped the handle to the back door, and carefully opened it without making much noise. Again, I felt like I was sneaking out of my house, fearful Mom would catch me. My heart thundered in my chest, because this time I was sneaking out with Dawson tagging along, and beer. All the sudden I felt as though I was doing something wrong. Would Emma be pissed at me for this? Friends. That was all Dawson and I were. She couldn’t be mad at that. Right? We were two friends having a drink while talking about her. Crap. Maybe this wasn’t right.

“Has she been pushing you away lately?” Dawson asked. I knew where his question was going.

“A little,” I admitted as I stepped outside, and started toward the fire pit. The night was cool, which was rare for this late into July. Lightning bugs were already out. The sight of them had memories of chasing them with Emma when we were little flashing through my mind.

“Me too.” Dawson sat on the edge of the bench, leaving loads of space for me. I was glad. It made this situation feel less wrong if there was an ample amount of space between us. I sat, and the bench didn’t seem as long as I remembered.

“She’ll come back around. Her doctors are sure of it.” It was all I knew to say.

“Are you though?” Dawson’s eyes narrowed on me. I could see my pain and heartache reflected in his stare. “Because I’m not sure I am.”

“I don’t know.” I tipped my beer up and took a swig, unsure I could handle having this conversation.

“I keep waiting for her to snap.” He leaned forward, until his elbows were resting against his knees, cupping his beer between his palms. “I don’t know how she hasn’t yet.”

“Me either.” It felt like a relief to say the words out loud. I would have freaked out the moment I learned what had happened.

“Has she mentioned how she feels being in a wheelchair now?” His question threw me off.

“Not really. I mean, I know it’s frustrating for her having to learn new ways to do things that used to come easy for her before.”

“I mean future things, not just the right now stuff.”

I blinked, unsure as to what he was talking about. “What future things?”

His gaze dropped to the beer bottle in his hands. I watched him, waiting for him to continue, as he flicked the peeling label with his thumb. “Driving, walking, kids…future stuff like that.”

“No.”

“Well, she did tonight. Apparently, she’s worried she might not be able to have kids. She hasn’t asked the doctors yet. There’s a shit ton of things she’s worried about actually.”