Page 43 of Bad Boys Don’t Date Clumsy Girls

“It’ll be fine.” Mom assures.

While Joel works, I realize it’s the second day in a row that Mom is awake early. “What were you doing up, Mom?”

“I haven’t been sleeping well.” Mom sighs. “Mom started in on me when I came down for something to drink. I was coming out here to watch some T.V., got dizzy, and fell. On my way down, I hit my head on a table.”

The coffee table is free of blood. There isn’t even a dent from the impact.

When Mom mentions getting dizzy, Joel and I share a look. Is that her new excuse for staggering? Not knowing what to say, I keep my response simple. “I’m sorry.”

“Okay, I got it all bandaged. I hope it’s good enough,” Joel says. He studies Mom intently. “I don’t know a lot about head injuries, so I don’t know if you’re supposed to stay awake or go to sleep or what. But if you don’t feel right, let someone know.”

“Thanks, Joely.” Mom presses her hand to her bandage. “I’m gonna be fine. Don’t you worry about me.”

Joel stands and rolls his eyes at me. I spin toward the staircase so that Mom can’t see my smile. “Feel better, Mom.” I snatch my backpack from where I dropped it and follow Joel upstairs. “Don’t you work tonight?”

“I was just about to leave when that happened.” We speak in whispers so Mom can’t hear us. Joel hitches his thumb toward the stairs. “I’ll get cleaned up and disinfected and head out. I texted Ruffo that I was going to be late.”

A stab of fear shoots through me at the thought that something worse might happen to Mom after Joel leaves. “I’m glad you were here. Grandma probably would have just left her to bleed out.”

“You’re not kidding. She was yelling at me to leave her alone before you got here.”

“What were they fighting about this time?” I ask.

Joel leans in his doorway. “I have no idea. I wasn’t listening. I stopped listening years ago. Haven’t you?”

I try to rub the tension out of my forehead and cross my arms over my chest. “Mostly. Sometimes I can’t help it though. They’ve been fighting about us more and more lately.”

“Us?” Joel shakes his head. “That makes no sense. We literally barely need them anymore.”

I hug myself as a chill runs up my spine. “Do you ever wonder what they will do after we leave?”

“No. And I don’t care.” Joel squints at me and his whispered tone becomes more insistent. “Ava, do not give one ounce of concern for them. They’ve had plenty of time to show they care. The best Grandma did was keep us alive. Mom has literally done nothing. And when it comes time for you to leave, do not tip your hat. Simply move. You know things could go very wrong if you give them warning.” Joel leans forward. “Ava. Are you hearing me?”

I stare at the empty staircase as wave after wave of sadness envelops me. “This is just so sad, Joel. Why does it have to be this way?”

Joel puts his hands on my shoulders and my gaze snaps to him in surprise. His gentle sureness is welcome and comforting. Fortifying, even.

“Ava, you can’t fix them. Don’t fool yourself into thinking you can create some sort of perfect family atmosphere suddenly. Those two were completely screwed up long before we came to this earth.”

My lip quivers as I stare at him.

“You’ll show them. You’ll have a chance to make the perfect family of your own one day.”

An image of me and Dylan rises to the forefront, which makes no sense. I blink it away, replacing Dylan with some faceless guy who I will make a happy home life with. Tears prickle behind my eyes.

“What if I don’t know how?”

Joel sighs. I see in the droop of his shoulders and the knit of his brow that he’s worried about the same thing. “The right person will help you learn how, Ava. We’ll both find that person and we’ll work hard to make it work.”

I throw my arms around him and bury my face against his shoulder as my sobs burst free. I cry as quietly as I can. Earning the best-brother-of-the-year award, Joel holds me until my silent sobs abate.

“I’m sorry, Joel. I know you have to go.” I wipe my tears and back up.

He dips his head to look at me. “You are way more important than work, Ava. You know that, right?”

I give him a quavering smile. “I do. I really do. And it keeps me going.”

He squeezes my shoulder and whispers, “I love you, little sis.”

“I love you too, big bro.”

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