Axis

august 19th

TODAY I FEEL EVEN worse about the events that transpired at the carnival last night. Like somehow I put myself in situations where I'm asking for things like that to happen, and it's all my fault.

Maybe it truly is all my fault.

I think I'm getting worse, as I predicted at the beginning of the summer I would.

Aunt Colleen doesn't know this, but I have a whole bottle of anti-nausea medicine buried deep in the drawer of my bedside table. I got it prescribed when I had the stomach flu last year. Of course, I took the proper amount needed to make me feel better, but what Aunt Colleen doesn't know is that I still have leftover just the right dosage to . . . fix things. Maybe.

Truthfully, I waver back and forth on my stance on the issue. Sometimes, it just seems . . . right. Other times, I'm not so sure.

The problem is that usually those other times only occur when Jasper is around. And soon, he won't be.

A knock on my door startles me out of my thoughts. "Come in!" I exclaim, trying to filter the awkwardness out of my voice.

Aunt Colleen emerges from the other side, hair tied up in a ponytail and worry lines crinkling her tanned face. "Honey, you've been holed up in here all day," she notes. "You okay?"

I shrug. "Yeah. Just thinking a lot, I guess."

She joins me on my bed, and crawls under the covers next to me. "Thinking about what, love bug?"

I chew the inside of my cheek. "I dunno. Senior year, Jasper, Noah; lots of things, I guess."

"How are you holding up with that?" she asks. "Jasper, I mean."

"I'm okay," I force out. Aunt Colleen does so much for me, a debt I will never truly be able to repay. One thing I refuse to do is feed into her worry if I don't have to.

"Honey, you can be honest," she says, squeezing my shoulder. "It's upsetting. He loves you so much, and it's not fair that he has to leave."

I shrug miserably. What is there to say?

"I was thinking," she starts, sounding hesitant. Uh oh. "Maybe you should start seeing someone again. I know you didn't like doing that much when you first moved here, but you were so shy and scared back then, you barely uttered two words even to me your first few months. I dunno, maybe it would help you deal with everything."

I can't. Therapy costs money, and Aunt Colleen should be saving what little money she makes teaching for Willie, not wasting it on her seventeen-year-old unstable niece.

"I don't think that's necessary," I say quietly. "Thank you for caring enough to offer that, though."

She cuddles close next to me and coaxes me forward a little, filling the spot behind me. Her fingers start smoothing my hair, just like she used to do when I was younger. She bisects my hair and brushes one of the halves forward, then starts separating three strands to French braid the other. It feels good, even though it's such a simple thing.

"You know," she starts, still braiding my hair, "I love you just as much as I love Willie. You're both my kids, just in different ways. I just want you to be happy; you're my sister's daughter."

I stay silent, unable to find words.

"And Lexi, love, you worry me sometimes," she continues. "Your momma had a history of mental disorders like anxiety and depression, and I know you have anxiety, but sometimes, I just wonder if maybe . . . there's something more. And if there is, I just want you to know that you can talk to me. We can work through whatever issues life throws at you together. Okay?"