Page 68 of Bad Boys Don’t Date Clumsy Girls

Phone number: Thinking about you. Hope all is going well.

Me: Nice of you. But who is this?

The three dots appear immediately, telling me the stranger is typing.

Phone number: Oh, sorry! It’s Dylan.

A thrill runs through me. I add his contact to my phone as my heart flutters excitedly. I love how attentive he is.

Me: Oh, my stalker. Cool. Good to know.

Me: But seriously, thanks for checking on us. Things are good, I guess. I didn’t drop Mom on her head yet, so thumbs up emoji.

Dylan: That is a real threat with you, too. I wonder if your mom realizes she is probably in more danger from you than she was from the tumors?

Me: I’m outraged!

Dylan: Wait…are you serious?

Me: No, I’m totally kidding and you’re totally right. Goofy face emoji.

Dylan: But you really are doing okay? You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?

Me: I’m fine. She’s sleeping. I think my hard work is ahead of me.

Dylan: That makes sense. Let me know if I can help. Remember, I helped with my mom when she was sick, so I come with experience.

I stare at the screen, not sure how to respond.

Me: Thanks, Dylan. Heart emoji.

As soon as I send it, I panic. Will he think I’m telling him I love him? I see the bubbles indicating he’s typing and my heart races.

Dylan: No problem!

I relax. He knew it was just an appreciation heart, not an actual love heart. Thank goodness Dylan speaks emoji.

I finish my applesauce and head up to my room to do homework. I peek into Mom’s room as I pass, relieved to see she’s still zonked out. I leave my bedroom door open so I can hear if she calls out.

It feels strange to settle down to do homework. I expected to be playing nurse 24/7, I guess.

When my alarm tone rings, I’m shocked to find it’s 8:00 already. I’m so glad I set the alarm, otherwise 8:00 would have come and gone without me noticing. I stop in the bathroom to get a cup of water before going into Mom’s room. She’s still asleep, so I feel horrible waking her, but they told us to stay on top of all the medications, especially the pain meds, because it’s harder to mask the pain if you let it come back. Or something like that. It made sense when they said it.

“Mom.” I stand at the side of the bed and stare down at her. She doesn’t budge. I put the glass of water on the table and open the pill bottles, shaking one of each into my hand. She gets one of each now and then pain again in six hours, and then all of them again at 8:00 a.m. “Mom.”

Still nothing. God, I’m going to have to shake her awake. I clutch the pills in my fist and place my hands on her shoulders, shaking gently. “Mom, time to take your pills.”

She startles awake and winces.

I wrinkle my nose at her as she blinks at me with a blank expression. “Time for your pills. Can you sit up?”

She tries, but it’s immediately obvious she doesn’t have the strength or the dexterity. I slip my arm behind her back and pull. By the time she’s sitting, we are both winded. I hold out my fist. “Here.”

She takes the pills and I hand her the glass. Her hand shakes as she tips the glass to her mouth. She tosses all the pills into her mouth at once and takes another sip. I watch, open-mouthed, as she successfully swallows them all at the same time and hands me the glass of water back. I set the glass back on the table and then help her lay down again. I take great care to pull the blankets up and tuck her in snug. It makes me feel like I’m a caregiver and that I know what I’m doing when she smiles wanly and closes her eyes again.

On my way back to my room, I pivot and head downstairs to update the log. Having it downstairs is inconvenient, so I bring the board upstairs and replace a picture on the wall outside Mom’s room with the chart. I log the time for all the meds I gave her and stand back to admire my work. I feel good about this. We can do this.

I head back to my room and text Joel to tell him where I moved the board. He says he will take the 2:00 a.m. shift this time. Being a senior, he doesn’t have a first-period class, so he’ll also be able to take the morning shift as well. He usually goes into the library to do his homework, so he can give me a ride to school. Sam’s happy to pick me up instead.

I smile to myself. We’ve totally got this. We just have to figure out the 2:00 pm shift.

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