Knee Pads

23 | off to the races

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE | OFF TO THE RACES

expression normally employed when a jammer or jammers breaks out of the pack and takes off at full speed.

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          Doctor Nguyen, bless her soul, had an unnerving tendency to drop bombs on me at the most unexpected times.

          "I'm sure everyone here has been informed that Jordan and I have been discussing the possibility of him going home for Christmas," she declared, after we all sat down in our usual circle formation, as calmly as one would announce they'd just gone out for groceries. By the lack of a look of surprise on everyone's faces but my own, including Jordan's refusal to look my way, it was safe to assume that had been discussed between all of them without bothering to include me in the conversation, but, if Doctor Nguyen had noticed it, she made no mention of it. "Naturally, this won't be a permanent thing, but Jordan's evolution and positive response to treatment seems to be favorable for a short stay at home with his family so we can see how we'd behave there. There's a lot to unpack here, so I'd like to go over it with all of you."

          I sank into my chair, arms firmly crossed against my chest, and hoped for my turn to speak. It was frustrating to be constantly kept in the dark when it came to Jordan, especially when I had been the one to take care of him on his worst moments, the one who had witnessed his happiest highs, and there I was, shoved aside like I didn't matter.

          I couldn't even speak up, afraid I'd cause a scene during a therapy session that wasn't even about me and risk making things worse for Jordan, and also because I didn't see how me speaking about my feelings would help. Even when I glanced at him, silently begging to acknowledge me for once, the only person in this world who would always see me, he kept his eyes glued to his hands, folded over his lap.

          It was pathetic, I thought, how I constantly sought after approval and validation from people who weren't willing to give me any. Jordan did try, as much as he was able to, at least, but it was exhausting to be second best in the eyes of my parents, the people who were supposed to treat and see us as equals. Now, they were doing the same thing to me they had once done to him, deciding for me what I could and what I couldn't handle.

          My parents, in general, were excited about Jordan spending the Christmas at home, albeit a tad bit apprehensive. They had adopted a more realistic approach to Jordan's condition and, if I hadn't been there from the start, I would have sworn someone had replaced my parents with doppelgängers. They were far more understanding now, acknowledging multiple factors had led us here, but still refused to accept they, too, had been somewhat responsible for the way things had unfolded.

          And then there was me, fully willing to admit my mistakes, but not being part of any conversations when I knew my input would be valuable. I wasn't keen on imposing my presence, terrified of overstepping—me overstepping was a big part of why things with Jordan had gone as far as they had—and it sounded so bratty of me when I said it out loud, but I was frustrated, to say the least.

          "Wren?" Doctor Nguyen called. I sat up straight with a start, uncrossing my arms. They were all looking at me for once, even Jordan. "What about you? How are you processing this news?"

          "Oh, I . . ." I swallowed, wiping my sweaty palms on my jean-clad thighs. "Well, I didn't know. This is the first time I'm hearing about it, so you kind of caught me by surprise. I've been busy with school, so maybe I did hear about it and just forgot." My father shot me a warning look from the corner of his eye, a silent plea to try and not screw things up. "I . . . I think it's important to ask Jordan if he feels ready to take such a big step. He's been staying here for four, nearly five months now, and it's going to be a drastic change in environment, even if it's just for a couple of days. I am excited about having him there with us, though. I miss him." Jordan's lips twisted into a tiny smile. "Part of me worries a little bit about what's coming afterward. Once he comes up, who's supposed to adapt to this new reality? Jordan? The three of us? Everyone? Do we completely change the way we live, or do we go back to our normal lives, the ones that brought us here in the first place? How much compromise is too much compromise?" I focused only on Doctor Nguyen, the one person in the room whose face remained neutral. "I don't know if this makes sense, but I, personally, have chosen not to drink alcohol. My parents do. Should they stop having a glass of wine at dinner to prevent a relapse?"