"You told him where you're sleeping over?" "Yep. I already asked him this morning. He said it's okay. He just texted me, hold on. He said he's just going to sleep over at Aunt Lisa's and drive home tomorrow morning, so you don't have to pick him up tonight. He said tell your sister to get some rest." I sighed. Dad always tried to make things as easy for us as he could. "Kar?" "Turn left, then turn left again. Stay on the left lane." I followed the phone's directions before I replied, "What is it?" "I know...I'm the biggest disappointment in our family. I'm not saying this for you to feel sorry for me, Kar. I just want you to know that I'm...aware of who I am. I'm trying to work on it. I promise." "Trash talking yourself isn't going to make you feel good or make me feel good." "But it's true. I'm not as smart or as good as you. You're closer with Dad and you're even his favorite. I'm not even jealous or resentful about that, because you're my favorite too. You are. I don't know what I would have done without you, Kar. Even though I'm trying my best, I feel useless. I contribute nothing. And on top of that, I hurt you and Dad. I don't mean to. I'm trying. I'm trying, but it's never good enough." "But it is." "No, it's not." God help me. "I don't know if you remember this, but you were just four years old back then. A bunch of the neighborhood kids were bored and started harassing me. One of them had thrown a rock to my forehead. I thought I was going blind. I couldn't see. You took off your shirt and wiped my eyes and you said in this small, teary voice, 'it's okay, Kawa Kowala. You okay. It's just red water.' Your r's sounded like w's back then. You cried and cried but kept that shirt on my forehead all the way home. Can't you see, Dyl? You love me." "That doesn't—" "It was enough. It is enough. It might be hard for you to understand this right now, but you'll get it when you have kids of your own. I know you want to have her in your life," I said. "You want to have a mom, but to me, you're my brother and my kid. I raised you and grew up with you. I can't describe what your love has done for me when it got so difficult. All I know was you kept me going, cheered me up. You loved me unconditionally. It's not a small thing to do for a person. Sometimes it's the only thing that matters. Here we are." The lights were on when we reached my mother's house. It was one of the duplex apartment buildings on the street for low-income households. It was a small box with an index card sized front yard, but she kept it clean. It was bigger than where we lived after she'd left us. "I want to do more than cheer you up." "What else can we do but try our best? Just remember this. When you start forgetting your worth, think about what you mean to Dad. He'll protect you before he protects himself. Not everyone has that love," I said, thinking about Cameron. And what he didn't have growing up. "Even though you don't think what you're doing is something to be proud of, Dad thinks it is. And you can tell it in his voice how proud he is of you." "I really didn't want him to tell them." "I understand how you feel, Dyl. He should've kept it to himself if you told him that in private. If you don't want him to share information about you, just don't tell him." "But I want to share it with him. It makes him happy. I just don't like it when..." he lifted his shoulders in a helpless shrug. "It's something that you and Dad should talk about." "Okay. Thanks, Kar. Thanks." He looked at me for a moment, his eyes swimming with gratitude. It melted my heart how open he was, how vulnerable and trusting. I had to tamp down the protective instinct inside me when I saw someone open the front door of the house. Dylan waved. "Do you want me to come home with you?" he asked. "I don't have to stay here." "It's okay. How will you get home tomorrow? Does she have a car?" He shook his head. "Mom said she'll walk me to the bus station." "Call me if you need anything." "I will. Do you want to come in, Kar? Say hi to Mom?" "Don't push it." This is never going to happen, I wanted to say, but curbed my tongue when he looked at me hopefully. I was curbing my tongue so much tonight that it was starting to hurt. "I've had enough for one night. Let me go home now, okay?" His shoulders drooped. "Okay. I'm really sorry about tonight. Text me when you get home, Kar?" "I will. Night." "Night." The area didn't look the safest, so I waited for Dylan to get inside. I saw my mother raised her arm, covering her eyes from the beam of my headlights as she tried to check who was in the car. I stared at her for a moment before backing out on the street and drove off. I felt dizzy, heart heavy and worn out by the time I got home. Instead of parking at my usual spot in front of the shop, I drove behind it and parked in front of our house, too tired to walk the dirt road that led to it. I let out a long, shaky sigh and slumped on the porch steps. I needed a minute to catch my breath and leaned against the railing, closing my eyes. Steel, baby. You're made of steel. "Kara." I looked up. Cameron stood in front of me. Like an archangel in the dark, tall and beautiful and larger than life. A sob came out of my throat. Before I realized it, I was running down the steps, tears streaking down my face, and jumped into his arms in a heartbeat. "Baby, don't cry. Goddamnit, I'm so sorry." I clung to him, burying my face in his chest as he held me tight. "I came as fast as I could," he said softly. "Will you come home with me?" "Yes. Let's go home, Cameron."