One (Sarah Crossan)

When I Wake up

I am on the bathroom floor listening to the sound of

screeching,

Tippi shaking me back into the world.

She sighs

when I blink

and squeezes me.

‘I’m OK,’

I manage

as

pounding feet beat against the hardwood floor

in the hall.

Dragon is at the door,

a blusher brush in hand,

which she is waving like a wand

and shouting,

‘What the hell happened?’

‘I slipped,’ I whisper.

‘Really?’ Dragon asks,

hands on hips,

looking like Mom.

‘Yes,’ I lie, ‘I slipped,’

and hanging on to the sink,

drag myself and Tippi up from the cold,

beige

bathroom floor.

Dragon is frowning.

‘She slipped,’ Tippi says.

Looking for Dragon

Dragon douses herself in candy-scented perfume

and has started wearing lipstick.

‘You have a boyfriend, don’t you?’

I say,

teasing her,

wondering,

hoping.

‘Sort of,’ Dragon says.

Tippi stops spreading cream cheese on a bagel

and gives Dragon serious

side-eye.

‘It’s cool if you don’t want him to meet us.’

Dragon is wrapping a silky scarf tightly around her neck.

She pauses.

‘It’s not what you think.’

Tippi snorts.

‘It’s OK, really.

We get it.

We get what we are.’

Every feature of Dragon’s face pinches together tightly.

‘Yeah, I know who you are, too.

But who am I apart from your sister?

Can you tell me that?’

She ties the scarf in place

and waits.

We watch her.

‘No, I didn’t think so,’ she says,

and storms out

slamming every door

behind her.