Page 117 of The Lessons

“Is she awake?” he asked as we followed the doctor down the hall.

The emergency ward was strange. Rather than normal rooms with doors, the hall was lined with curtains that made it so each room effectively only had three walls. The corridors were also surprisingly quiet, except for a bunch of nurses milling about—very unlike all the ER units I’d seen on television.

“Yes, she’s awake, but she’s very tired. I need to ask that you keep your visit short. We can talk more after you see her.” We stopped outside a stall with a curtain, different from the others in that it had a security officer sitting in front of it. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Ryan nodded. Once she had left, he paused and turned to me. “You don’t have to come in.”

I shrugged, but he didn’t stop me as I followed him in.

Ryan

My sister was lying there in the hospital bed, asleep, all sorts of tubes coming in and out of her arms, trying to replace the fluids I assumed she’d lost when they had to pump her stomach.

I was a little too familiar with this routine.

“Ains,” I said gently, touching her lightly on her shoulder. She felt delicate and small, the hospital gown too big for her tiny frame. “Ains, wake up. We only have a few minutes.”

She finally roused and blinked her eyes a few times. “Hey, you came.”

“Of course I came.”I come every time, for Christ’s sake. “Ains, you remember Natalie.”

She sat up a little taller. “Hey, Nat.”

Natalie just nodded as she bit her lip, and I felt rotten for not being able to give her the attention she deserved. I cringed inwardly at what a fucked-up family she must think I had, and honestly, she’d be right. Ainsley had never been the same after the death of our parents. I was lucky?I’d been old enough that, with the right help, I’d been able to cope. But Ains, she’d barely been a teen when it all went down. Being a teen was hard enough without throwing in something like having your mother murdered by your father.

“Ains,” I sighed. “Why’d you do it?” I ran my hand over her hair. It was dry and scratchy from all the peroxide. She’d once told me she hated how when she looked in the mirror she saw our mom. The resemblance was true. The older Ains got, the more and more she looked like our mom. Well, except for the hair; my mom, even well into her forties, had had fiery red hair. Ainsley took after her, whereas I took after my dad in coloring. But after mom died, Ainsley alternated between chopping it all off, and dying it every color but red. Her current platinum-blond phase couldn’t be good for her hair. She’d probably need to lop it all off soon.

“I don’t know,” she sighed, exasperated. “I just…” Her lip started quivering, and I immediately felt guilty. “I’m sorry.” Tears started to run down her face.

“Ains.”

“I just can’t stand it anymore. I can’t feel anything with these new meds. No—nothing. I feel like a zombie, Ry, and zombiesaredead. It’s, like, what’s the point, you know?” She sniffled, and I grabbed a tissue off the counter for her.

“But Ains, we can keep working on the meds. If you just tell Dr. Katz—”

“Fuck Dr. Katz,” she groaned.

“Ainsley. He is there to help you. Depression and anxiety are—”

“Yeah, yeah, depression and anxiety are chemical imbalances in the brain. Save me the lecture. I get that, but what you don’t get is how fucking painful it is. I feel like I’m moving through life with cement blocks tied around my feet.”

I glanced over at Natalie, trying to gauge how she was taking all this. I imagine most people would be terrified to learn that this was our normal family dynamic. “Ains, I’m going to talk to the doctor. We’re not going to make any decisions until we’ve consulted with your team. For now, it’s important you rest. I’m going to go talk to the doctor. You can go back to sleep.”

No sooner had I uttered the words than her eyes closed.

I ushered Natalie back out into the hall to find the doctor. “I’m sorry you had to see that,” I said as we walked down the hall.

She looked up at me, disbelief written all over her face. “Are you crazy?”

I cocked my head at her.

“I’m a human being, Ryan. I’m not made of stone. Your sister’s been through a lot. Both of you have.”

“Yeah,” I sighed.

We checked in with the doctor, and she said that what Ainsley needed most was rest. She’d already called her psychiatrist, and the good news was that he was flying back from a conference the next day. Until then, the best thing to do was wait and let the nurses take care of her. They promised to call if there were any developments.

On our way to the parking lot, I looked over at Natalie, who’d been silent for a while. I was worried I’d weirded her out.

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