Two Girls Staring at the Ceiling Read Online Free

once a month, right?
    And that mono that wasn’t mono
    last winter? And quitting choir.
    Which you love? Telling Mr. Jensen
    you wouldn’t try out for Ophelia,
    which you could have gotten,
    especially with that whole ethereal
    thing you’ve got going lately—”
    “And we finally get an invite
    to Ruby’s pool party and
    you refuse to go?
    If it wasn’t for that crush
    on Mr. Sugar Snap,
    we wouldn’t have gotten you out
    of the house all summer.”
    “But something good
    happened, right?
    Something as in
Something.
    Or you’d have come back to the party.
    I know this isn’t the ideal time
    to talk about it, but
    I mean, did you guys,
    you know …”
    “Chess? It’s kinda silent on your end.
    Is your mom there?”
    “Umm. Yes.”
    Lying to them,
    for the first time ever,
    to drive the night beetles away.
    B etween the curtains
    I watch two ladies sit
    with Shannon as she sleeps.
    Hear click of knitting needles,
    rustle of starched legs
    crossing and uncrossing.
    “See all them earrings?” the older one
    tells an aide hanging
    a new bag of medicine.
    “She’s got one for every surgery.”
    “Seriously?” The aide looks impressed.
    Or shocked. “That’s a lot of surgeries
    for a young girl.”
    “Oh yeah. And that little cross
    in the other ear? That’s to keep
    her from any more.”
    The older one counts stitches
    on something pink, crinkles open
    a starlight mint, sighs,
    Hands another to the heavy,
    younger one, whose name necklace
    might say
Yvonne.
    When I wake up,
    a baby hat is almost done.
    The older lady stabs her needles
    through the ball of yarn.
    “Seems like they gave her
    a double dose of sedative this time.”
    She hauls herself to standing,
    Untangles tubes on the IV pole,
    smoothes the comforter,
    the pillow, the girl’s jagged hair.
    “Not sure how soon
    we can get back, kiddo.”
    Yvonne leaves the mint
    on Shannon’s pillow,
    bends to kiss her forehead,
    So close to me that if she knew
    I was watching through the curtain,
    she could pull it aside and kiss me, too.
    I n a dream David sets my lips tingling
    with his eyes, even in the dark.
    “I really want to kiss you.
    Is it okay if …”
    “MWAAH!”
    Stubble scrapes my cheek.
    “Heyyy! How’re you doing,
    Chessie Chestnut?”
    Strawberry-slick lips brush
    my forehead.
    “Hello, sweetie.
    You weren’t sleeping,
    were you?”
    “Huh?
    Oh, hi, Aunt Dawn.
    Hey, Uncle Charlie.
    I’m doing fine.”
    “Because, sweetie,
    I just want to tell you
    the woman down the street
    has what they’re saying
    you might have,
    and as long as she stays away
    from certain foods …”
    In neon running shoes I race
    through sand, sprint
    through the rainbow
    droplets of a sprinkler,
    run straight up a waterfall,
    Shoot out a purple cloud
    of squid ink so no one
    can see me jetting
    through the ocean
    on
You’ll never catch me!
bubbles.
    “Genetic. I looked it up online.
    Cousin Joanie had it… .
    Wouldn’t surprise me a bit
    if Uncle Bobby …”
    Now if I can just stay
    inside the dream.
    “Dawn. Why make her upset?
    Nobody’s said for sure—”
    Blur their voices.
    “They know
something’s
    very wrong. I’m no doctor
    and I could tell she wasn’t well
    for months …”
    But Bri’s and Lexie’s words
    creep in like beetles:
    “That time you ate
    the entire bottle
    of my dad’s Tums …”
    “My dad’s single malt
    to kill the pain …”
    “Julia’s sleepover
    where you spent
    the whole night
    in the bathroom …”
    “Why does everyone
    in this family think
    if you don’t talk
    about things,
    if you just smile
    and don’t look,
    or look polite
    they’ll, like,
    miraculously …”
    “Dawn’s right, Chessie.
    You had to have known
    you were—”
    “And I get
    that you must have been hoping
    it would go away—”
    “Or trying to protect your mom—”
    “Right. God forbid
    there should be something amiss
    in my sister’s perfectly
    constructed perfect world!”
    “But protecting?
    By going for a