Page 1 of 4th Degree

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SKYLAR

“Where are you going looking all excited?”

I turn to my brother, not even trying to hide my grin.

“I have my first kickboxing class tonight,” I tell him, tossing an extra t-shirt into my gym bag. “I'm going over to the gym after my shift at the restaurant.”

“Ohhh, so that's today.” Joey throws himself onto the couch at the sound of his video game starting. “Thank God you'll finally have someone else to try out your YouTube moves on.”

I snatch a third t-shirt from the laundry pile and chuck it at my brother. “Shut up. You used to love it when I padded you up and kicked you onto the couch.”

“Yeah, when I was six and thought it was cool to fly. It's not that fun when your nineteen-year-old strong-ass sister is trying out a choke on you and accidentally makes you pass out.”

I shoot him a sheepish look. “I apologized for that.” When something occurs to me, I frown and throw a fourth t-shirt at him. “Hey, you got an Xbox out of that! You don't get to use it as a guilt trip after I've evened us out.”

Now it's his turn to look sheepish, but it's only for a split second before his attention goes back to the game on the TV screen. “Sure I do. It's in the brother-sister handbook.”

I let out a growl and launch a fifth shirt at him. “I'm leaving. I set your basketball uniform aside, so make sure you pack that up for your game tomorrow. And fold the rest of the laundry before you go to bed.”

“Hey, you're the one that just unfolded it!”

Giving my teenage brother a smack on the head as I pass him, I ignore his pout as I do it.

I'm just about to walk out the door, when my mom hobbles into the living room.

“Hey, Mom,” I say, helping her into a seat at the kitchenette. “I thought you were sleeping.”

“I was. I just woke up.” Her voice is just as sleepy as her bedhead that's sticking up at the crown of her head.

I grab her a glass of water. “Did you have a good nap?”

“It was fine,” she answers. When I place the glass in front of her, she grips it in her hand, studying it before slowly lifting it to her lips. “Seems to have stopped the tremors I was having this morning.”

I'm pleased to see she's right, that her hands are no longer shaking as she holds the glass on her own.

“That's great news, Mom.” I smile. “If you're having a good day, maybe you could try that puzzle you were working on last week?”

She clearly likes that idea, because she returns my smile as she says, “That's a great idea. I think I'll do that.”

Relief deflates the tension in my shoulders, and I lean down to kiss her temple. “I'm gone for the rest of the day; I have work and then I'm starting at that new gym tonight. Maria is coming in a little bit to check on you, but if you need anything before then, just ask Joey.”

“Okay, honey. Have a good day!”

I press another kiss to her aging face. “Thanks, Mom. I'll be home tonight.”

Joey waves as I start toward the door, pausing only to grab my water bottle from the fridge. And when I see that magic piece of paper stuck to the fridge door, my eyes zeroing in on the words Medical Grant, I'm reminded of what made it possible for me to finally do something for myself.

When I leave the apartment, it's with a pep in my step that I haven’t felt in a long time.

“Hey, Skylar, you coming out with us tonight?”

I finish ringing up my table’s added dessert before turning to my new coworker. “What’s tonight?”

“We’re going to Graffiti after work for some drinks,” he answers. “You coming with?”

“Skylar doesn’t drink,” comes my other coworker’s dry tone from behind me. “And she has no idea how to have fun.”

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