Just Hold Hands

Chapter 11

Their mother didn't return the next day. Theo was ready to call it: she wasn't coming back. Catherine hadn't left her room all day, and nearing evening, Theo was getting worried.

"Catherine," she called as she knocked on the bedroom door. It was painted white, like the rest of the house, but covered in posters and stickers that her sister had accumulated over the years. When she didn't hear an answer, she pushed through the door, eyeing the Catherine-shaped lump under the covers. The lights were off, but enough light dripped through the window to render the room somewhat visible. Her sister poked her head out.

"All of India's gone."

"The... whole thing?' Uncomfortable, Theo's eyes traveled from the blue bed sheets to the messy desk, covered in discarded papers and lined in framed photos.

"A big chunk of the East Coast, too. They're worried that if the laser-things are a gas it'll travel over here and poison us."

Theo could see the light of her phone glowing under her blankets. "Yikes." She pulled at the hem of her shirt. "Would you like some lunch?"

"I'm not hungry."

Theo dropped her hem and flexed her hands at her sides. "You should eat anyway, it's healthy." The light was still visible under the covers. "Please?"

The light clicked off and the covers receded. "Okay," Catherine said, crawling out of bed. She was still in the clothes from the day before, that she'd worn to the laundromat. It was her plain blue sundress, the dress she wore when she wanted to look put together but didn't want to think about it. Her hair was knotted.

Theo went downstairs and peered into the fridge. However well-intentioned their mother had been in gathering food, she was certainly careless, because everything not canned or frozen was soon to be expired. The turkey and cheese was due to go bad within days, so Catherine would get a sandwich.

Theo opened the freezer to remove the bread, slamming the door closed once done. She dropped the toaster on the counter, because fuck the granite, there's no resale value during an alien invasion, and set two slices to defrost. She pulled out a non-stick pan—her mother had been so excited when she brought it home, carefully warning them not to overheat it—and placed it on her favorite burner, scraping in some butter. Theo could make a turkey melt, it would hopefully kill whatever may be growing on the meat, and she could claim to be a good cook. She pulled out the turkey and swiss, smelling them to make herself more confident that she wasn't poisoning her little sister.

The toaster beeped, Theo assembled the sandwich and placed it on the pan, cranking the stove to the highest setting. With the sandwich cooking unattended, she didn't quite know what to do with her hands. She shook them out, until she heard footsteps, and turned to see her sister descend the stairs like a princess in a Disney movie. Her hair was still tangled, but she'd changed into sweatpants and a tee-shirt emblazoned with butterflies.

"How are you?" Theo asked. She often felt guilty how often she'd ask, and how rarely she'd care to hear the answer. This time she meant it.

Catherine shrugged and sat at the kitchen table. Theo flipped the sandwich and moved to sit across from her. "Come on."

"Not good, Theo. I'm anxious, like, all the time, and I can't even say it's irrational because there are aliens blowing up the planet, or gassing the planet, or something, nobody even knows. And my mom is supposed to know if I don't, because that's her whole thing, and not only does she not know what to do, but she did the worst possible thing and left." Catherine sniffled. "I'm literally scared for my life all the time, and your life, you can't keep pretending that nothing's wrong when something clearly is. You can't pretend this can't touch you when we both already know it has. Maybe denial works for you, but it doesn't work for me, because we can't ever find answers if we won't even acknowledge there's a question. I can't think anymore, Theo. Every thought hurts."