Knots

Chapter 5

OLLIE

The diner is pretty much empty when I get there, I can walk right up to the register and order an iced coffee like it's nothing, and when I get it, there are only two girls sitting in the checkered booth near me. One of them has spiky black hair that falls to her chin and frames her face, the other has platinum blonde ringlets that cascade down her shoulders. The blonde one looks like she's going to cry. Her eyes are the clearest blue I've ever seen, and she's wearing a blue, yellow, and white striped crop-top sweater and tight jeans that would probably fit my baby sister. I think the other one is the girl who tore my sign down this morning. The two are opposites, that's easy enough to see, so why are they sitting next to each other? Why is one of them reaching out her hand and smiling at the other? Then I realize it, the blonde girl is Alexa Woods. I quickly avert my eyes, Alexa Woods can't catch me staring at her! She looks so different at the diner, on the verge of tears, a lot more human than I thought she could ever look. It makes me feel like I've never seen this girl before. Like she isn't the popular, girl-of-steel everybody thinks they love. She smiles at her friend -I think, though why they're friends is a mystery to me- picks up her handbag, and walks out the door. Her friend stays behind, nursing a cup of black coffee, taking small tentative sips and blowing on it. I slide into her booth and dump three sugar packets into my iced coffee.

"You look like you need company?" I ask. She looks up at me and shakes her head.

"I took your poster down today," she questions cautiously.

"And then you gave me the finger," I laugh. "I just thought I could help. I'm Ollie." She takes a big gulp of coffee that I can tell scalds her throat. She grimaces and forces it down anyway.

"You know coffee's a lot better with cream," I comment blandly. She can't help but laugh at that one.

"That's 'cause you're crazy." She responds. "Try it." She hands the coffee over to me and I grab a straw from the counter. I take a swig of the drink and try to keep myself from throwing up. I cough and gasp, she laughs at me, steadying my hand on the table.

"Oh my God. The Devil is real!" I cry. "You're the crazy one," I remark, pointing a finger at her. Then we sit in silence for a little while. I shuffle my shoes on the floor and look at her skeleton T-shirt and maroon jacket. The jacket has some sort of see-through material trailing all the way down to her jeans and then her sneakers. I almost laugh when I see the two-inch platform on her shoes.

"You like being taller than everyone else?" I ask, nodding to the shoes. She shrugs.

"I dunno. I just like the way they look. You're one to talk, Mr. Basketball Boy." I divert the attention from myself and blush.

"I thought goth people don't like red," My lame attempt at diverting attention from myself, she grins though, so I can tell I haven't messed everything up.

"I'm not a fan of labels. That's why I don't like your dance."

"Of course you don't," I reply sarcastically. She smiles and downs the rest of her coffee in one gulp.

"Why are you here?" She asks, narrowing her eyes. The room gets darker, like the sun has decided to live behind clouds.

"I wanted to see why you were making Alexa Woods cry." I say, she tenses and I try to put some humor into it. "And where I can get pointers." She smiles, and loosens up a little.

"It's a family thing. I'm Luca Woods." I pause and drop my mouth open.

"No way!" I exclaim. "You two are related?" She grimaces, she probably gets this reaction a lot. "Sorry. It's just so cool, I never knew. You're way nicer." She plays with her short hair and fiddles with my straw wrapper.

"Nobody does." She mumbles. "We're twins."

"So you wear contacts? And you dye your hair black?" I ask. She shakes her head.

"No. She wears contacts and bleaches her hair blonde."

"So you're the OG Woods girl, huh?"

"Yep." We both laugh. Luca bites on her straw and looks down at something on her phone, stony gray eyes widening.

"Oh!" She yells, nearly jumping out of her chair. I stare back at her and my hand somehow lands on top of hers.

"What?" She draws her hand away and writes something on her phone.

"I need to go, sorry. It's already five!" My eyes droop as I am unable to hide my disappointment.

"Okay! See you later. In school. She looks up from her phone.

"Yeah." She starts, smiling. "I'll see you around." Then she leaves me in the cafe alone, sipping my iced coffee.

* * *

"Guess what happened today?" My mom starts. She looks me up and down with calculating chocolate eyes and shakes her head. "You would never believe it. I got a call at the hospital from your little sister. Wanna guess what she said? She said that she was home alone." She paused to take a quick breath and then continued. "So I had to leave the hospital to go pick up your sister. You need to come straight home after school, Aadir-Holliston. Every day! And you didn't!" She stirs something that steams up the house and I smell curry. Panir, dal, nan, and chutney. There's enough food in containers on the counter to last us a week and probably feed a small army. Mom cooks when she's nervous. I look her up and down, her eyes bore into mine and we stare at each other.

"How is he?" I ask. I look down at the wood floor. I stare at the curtain that adorn the walls and a tv in the corner of the room. The walls are white and bare, and they suck me in like a void, numbing my body to the bone. The house seems to sag inwards, and even though every inch of it is immaculate and beautiful, it weighs down upon me. That's because it's made of anticipation and anxiety. Mom doesn't answer my question so I just head up the grand staircase. By this point, I know what to do when mom shuts a conversation down. I hear her sigh and mutter under her breath as I walk. Isha's voice floats down the hallway, singing something my grandma taught her a little while ago. She hums softly from her room, the sign on her door rattles then stills, she's banging out the rhythm. I open the white door and nearly get kicked in the shins. Isha is laying down on the floor in her white dress with ruffles on the sleeves. She also has on the pair of shoes dad gave her. White with a pink stripe down the side.

"Isha!" I say. She stops herself from kicking me just in time and looks into my face. "You should get changed, you know mom hates when that dress gets dirty." She nods solemnly at me and bites her lip, playing with the bow on her dress.

"Is daddy gonna... is daddy... is he gonna be okay?" She asks. When I don't answer immediately, she begins to whimper.

"I saw him today and he looked scary..." She said. My breath hitches in my throat. Dad started chemo a little while ago, and he got sick. Well, sicker than he was before. From what mom said, he's still really sick, he doesn't get up or do work like he used to. I can't believe she had to go during one of his treatments, and it's all my fault.

"Dad's going to be fine, Isha. But make sure that dress is clean for when he comes home!" I say, then I tickle her right above the hips and watch as she giggles and makes her feet dance on the floor.

"Okay okay! Stop tickling me!" She screeches. I oblige and go to my room, shutting the door behind me. She hums as I walk down the hallway. I hear footsteps creaking down the stairs in the middle of her song. Mom must have been listening to Isha and me. I look at the few pictures that hang on the wall. One of me on my first day of eighth grade, one of Isha on her first day of third, and one of the family. Everyone's smiling, and dad is making bunny ears behind Isha's head. I let myself drift into the photograph and let the warmth of summer spread over me. The grass is dewey and wet, but we play in the park anyway because we know that summer is almost over, and soon, cool wind will encase the landscape. Mom's eyes are not worried or afraid in this photo, she smiles and somehow looks younger. Her features soften in the smile, she doesn't have any of the wrinkles she has now. Isha's curls were untamable back then, and even though it was long, her hair gave the illusion of a bob. It was cute. Dad's eyes are brown and full of laughter and energy, and I suddenly remember how his smile would always brighten the room. This is before dad was diagnosed, we were all so happy. Happier than we are now. I go to my room and collapse on my bed, sinking immediately.