The Sinner's Saint

WORTH IT

Early April

PRESENT MORNING
I wake up first.
My body still hasn't figured out how to sleep properly since everything happened so here I am at 6am wide awake, on my phone and Bored. Dangerous combination because it's either a gift or a curse depending on how you look at it. I choose to see it as an opportunity.

I find the most aggressively cheerful song in my playlist and connect it to the living room TV playing it at Full volume.
I want to be clear that I felt zero remorse.

I lay there in bed and listen to the chaos unfold from a safe distance like I had nothing to do with it. Kendall says something behind her door that I will not be repeating out of basic respect. If this were a non-cuss show the bleep would be extraordinarily long.

Hala's alarm clock hits the wall. I know it's the clock and not the lamp because nothing shattered and it's always the first thing within arm's reach of her bed. Third one this year. Mind you, she's been home like 2 months altogether this year.

I smile at the ceiling.
Worth it.

TWO HOURS LATER
We get ready slowly because I can't rush and nobody is rushing me. We end up in the kitchen in various states of dressed.

Hala's in actual outside clothes because she's more adult and disciplined than both of us combined. Kendall's in pyjama pants and a zip-up because she is who she is. I'm in a full black sweatset because I have maybe four directions I can move my torso without my ribs screaming at me and I needed something that worked with that without announcing it. Also, it covers everything and makeup is expensive, shit.

Hala looks at both of us with her eyebrows doing the thing they do when she has opinions she's decided to keep to herself.

I prop my camera up on the kitchen counter and film us just standing there in silence looking at each other like three people waiting for someone else to have a plan first. I haven't been able to be active on social media in a while so I'm vlogging today.

"You look like you're going to a funeral," Hala tells me.

"I look like someone who made practical choices," I correct her. She stares at me.

"Let's go," Kendall says.

BRUNCH
Kendall gets us into somewhere that does not list prices on the menu. Immediate Red flag.

I open it and immediately have a quiet internal moment. I'm three weeks post-concussion, operating at maybe seventy per cent on a good day, and my dyslexia has chosen today specifically to have the time of its life.

The words keep shuffling themselves into the wrong order and I'm having to read everything twice and it's taking longer than it should and I am absolutely not telling either of them that because why would I do that to myself?
I am fine. Everything is fine. I definitely do not want to cry now.

I put the menu down

"Can y'all order for me please?" Kendall who immediately realises why without me having to say it, just nods.

"I got you, don't stress."

I nod and look at the waitress heading toward us. She looks like she just walked directly out of a perfume campaign. Sunny blue eyes. The kind of smile that's been smiled at people all morning and still looks genuine.

"Hi, what can I get for you guys?"

Hala orders. Then Kendall orders for me - something called Decadent Fruit-Filled Flapjacks with Ambrosial Syrup and Heavenly Whipped Cream. I have no idea what half of those words are doing together but I nod like it's exactly what I wanted.