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I don't wake up until the next day. It's 7 a.m. and Porter is shouting for me to come downstairs. I rub my eyes and fumble down the stairs to find him pouring two bowls of cereal.

"Are you really hungry or something?" I tease him.

He ignores me as he grabs milk from the fridge. "You're supposed to go to school today."

I stare at him in great confusion. He looks at me. "You can take it easy, but you have to get back into things."

My stomach does summersaults. I take a bowl from him reluctantly and say, "Did Mom tell you this?"

He smiles a little and nods. "She's been letting up on the drinking, you know. That's why she's making you go to school again."

And that's good, I guess, but I know that I'll never truly be able to forgive my mother. She left us for a drink and let our family fall apart after Cara's death. I'm not saying that she was supposed to be the only thing keeping us all together, but she could have done something. She could have helped, making things a bit easier, but she made them a million times harder. My resentment for her is permanent.

But I'll follow her directions, anyway, because I know that I'll have to return to school at some point, no matter what. I know that laying around all day, thinking about Cara and hating myself isn't going to help anything.

Besides, I've been fixed up. The hospital made me better. I have friends. The people at school know who I am now.

Everything should be better now.

Right?

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