The Price of Protection

Chapter 6~ The Truth Hurts

CÉLINE:

     "No, Quinn, I'm not coming out tonight."

     "But Celiiiiiiiine," she whines over the phone causing me to pull it away from my ear. For having such a low voice for a female, she can sure hit a high pitch when she wants something bad enough.

     "Quinn, I already told you that today was terrible. I'm not spending the rest of it with raging teen hormones trying to act grown in a house that isn't supervised because the parents have no idea what's going on."

     She's quiet for a few seconds before I hear a snicker over the speaker, "You really must've been the life of the party before Canada. You know about how literally everything in teen world works but never want to join in."

     "Yeah, I'm trying not to be that girl anymore, remember?" I speak as I organize a few things on my desk absentmindedly.

     "You know that you can go to a party for fun and not do stupid stuff, right?" I don't respond so she continues, "Look, I know today is a painful day for you, but I also know that your dad is out of town for tonight and you're going to be alone while he is off dealing with it alone too. It's a bad habit. I don't want to think of you all alone on a day like today."

     "I know," I whisper, "It's just how I deal with stuff, Quinn. I can't deal with things how I used to. I can't steal and try stuff to numb myself. I have to find a new normal and I don't trust myself to make all the right decisions just yet so I stay home to know I'm in check. I have to learn how to process and work through things and not just numb myself."

     She lets out a heavy sigh mixed with a groan, "You sound so mature and I don't actually have a good argument to throw back. I guess I have to back off? Is that what a good friend does? Stop pushing and respect the other person?!"

     I laugh at her tone, "Yup, best friends, that's the deal. Mutual respect and all of that sappy stuff."

     "Well, dang, I should've known you would be the friend to make me grow up. It had to happen eventually."

     "Happy to be of some value to you," I tease and she giggles, "Hey, Quinn, I'm gonna go. My brain is emotionally exhausted and I'm in need of a hot bath and some sort of junk food before I go to sleep."

     "Okay, baby-cakes. I'm going to the party for a couple of hours, but I'll have my phone on me. Say the word and I'll be there."

    That nickname makes me cringe and she knows it, "I know. Thanks, doll."

     We say goodbye and I sigh heavily, releasing all of my pent-up feelings from today. I hate this day. I hate the memories. It was like a sick joke. I remember my mom telling us so matter-of-factly that she was dying and my dad and I laughed.

Flashback:
     "You're not dying, we'll figure it out," my dad said.

     We were sitting in the hospital wondering why her illness wasn't going away. We thought maybe it was exhaustion or an internal infection. They even tossed the word pregnancy around (apparently that can be terribly rough on some women). Then she got a pitying look in her eyes as she reached out and gently cupped the sides of my dad's face. His face slowly fell as his brows furrowed. He realized she was serious and frantically demanded answers. He started denying it loudly. Telling her over and over that she wouldn't die, that she couldn't die on us.

     I was always a terrified child, but in this moment I completely shut down. I had a stuffed wolf with me and I sat silently, hiding my fears in a tight grip on my stuffed animal. I watched the terrible scene play out. There was so much anger from my dad and my mom was in torrential sobs. The doctor came in to explain everything and the nightmare continued to get worse.