The Art of Falling in Love

Prologue

Prologue:

I couldn't do it.

The tapping of my fingers picked up speed when the atrocious bug crawled higher.

I couldn't do it. I knew I couldn't. I would have to scrape up a lot of courage. Courage that I didn't have.

I squeaked. My mother was devastatingly oblivious to the giant fly making its way up the back of her pants. She was caught in a blank stare. The boring drone of agile legs and slowpokes on the black concrete of the track. The close up view at the fence could do that to you.

I lifted my hand the third time that second to wipe down my face. It was 101 degrees outside; not very unusual in May but an extreme anomaly in North Carolina.

The seat of my capris was damp with sweat and gnats were feasting on my flesh. The guy next to me was staring at my mom too; the bug was on her butt now. He looked at me as if asking 'well?'. I knew I looked like the worst daughter in the world right now. Watching as my mother was slowly molested by an insect, listening as she was unknowingly publicly abused. But I felt like hitting the steamed rusted bleachers. I wanted to tell her. I did. But I was scared.

Around me about every cool kid in my grade was howling insults at their 'friends' running in track. They didn't care about them, so why should they blink an eye when I shout 'Bug Protection!' at my mom?

There was also the fact that I was horrible at speaking. I sounded like I had a lisp because of my braces and I talked too fast. What if she asked me to repeat myself? What if she didn't get what I was saying and I had to get up and point at her shapely bottom for all hormonal mankind to see?

I glanced to the left. My not-really crush was at the fence too. Tony Sharper. Soccer player, honor roll, plus he was nice and funny. And he was staring at my mom's butt.

I wasn't angry or jealous or even disappointed. I was shocked. He wasn't even discreet about it.

The fly was still on her butt.

Adding a tiny speck of contrast against her plain white jeans. She was cheering for the wrong team and tipping her weight from one leg to the other. Up and down. Left to right. The men watched with awe. The bug was rounding its way around now. I kept hoping she would accidently smack it or something. But nothing. She would touch-up every part of her body except for the place the fly laid on. The image was stuck in my mind. I knew I would never forget it.

The bug was at the front of her jeans and I had lost my chance to tell her. I had betrayed her. Opened the world to her broken bones and ugly scars. She didn't know and I was positive she would never find out; but it was evident in my eyes. Slowly eating away at my heart.

I disliked myself that hot May afternoon, sitting on a warm silver bleacher at my twin sister's track meet. I disliked how shy I was. How shy I had to be. My shyness disliked me too.

"Wasn't I just amazing?" Bethany, my twin sister, was now off the track and making her way over to me. Her mile long legs were accentuated in the short red track uniform she had to wear. Bethany got everything I didn't. My mom's butt. My mom's teeth. My mom's long legs and tan arms. Bethany got it all and she wasn't afraid to flaunt it.

Snapping back into focus, I saw that Bethany had stopped at the bleacher in front of me. The popular kid's bleacher. I also realized that Bethany wasn't talking to me when she had asked that. Foolish of me to think my sister actually cared for my opinion! I watched helplessly as she flirted with Tony and gave him a long peck on the cheek. Tony blushed madly.

So much for that crush.

It was only after Bethany said goodbye to her friends and walked down the steps to the track, that I realized what had happened. Bethany had ignored me and mom.

This wasn't unusual; actually it was the norm for us. Nobody at school guessed we were related and we gave them no reason to. But why she never gave mom a second glance was beyond me.

You see, Bethany and mom were more twins than me and her could ever be. They went shopping together, gossiped together, and even ate my infamous cookies together. They were a pair made in heaven.

Me? I was sawdust in their metaphoric eyes. I always got in their way. Always said the wrong thing when we were around 'important people' and apparently I didn't act like a 16 year old girl should. I was a disappointment. My mom even got me a psychotherapist because she thought I was antisocial.

As. If. Solitude was just always the better option.

Realizing that this track meet wasn't going to end anytime soon and my twin was not of need of moral support, I quickly told mom I was leaving and headed out.

***

Three hours later I found myself crying at the side of a hospital bed, with a sweatshirt and my pajama shorts still on.

My mother was in a coma.

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