Sadie, Someday...

Chapter 13 - To Make A Choice

Chapter 13
To Make A Choice

"Where’s my will, Can I find a way, The earth is wild, And I can’t sit still, A familiar sound, A familiar voice, Makes it so hard, To make a choice, I don’t know if I should stay.” ~ If I Should Stay – Alexz Johnson

“Morning,” Isla greeted me as she poured herself a glass of orange juice from the pitcher in her hand.

My eyes shot up quickly at her greeting, so simply stated like it was a daily occurrence. She flung a mess of blonde hair behind her shoulder as she turned to look at me when I didn’t respond right away. Raising an eyebrow, she eyed me up and down, looking for a reason as to my silence.

If we had been closer, inseparable sisters like most that I knew, she would have understood so easily. I wouldn’t have to explain a word. She would just know that I haven’t been doing much talking in the past few years. Isla would see my faulty stature and red, swollen eyes and know exactly what to do and say to make me feel better.

But Isla was so selfishly caught up in her own life, too invested in her group of school friends and championship soccer team that she didn’t have a single clue. She was confused as to why her greeting seemed so strange to me and couldn’t comprehend why I wasn’t saying a single word to her.

“You know, it’s so easy for you and Mason…” she mumbled underneath her breath as she stuck her head in the refrigerator to put back the pitcher. I watched as she left her head in there longer than necessary, coming back empty handed.

“What?” I asked, stopping in my trek to the dining room table. My bag was slung over my shoulder, my books tucked underneath my arm. I was prepared to make a run for it if this conversation became too much.

“You’re so much nicer to him, Sadie!” she shouted, flinging the door to the refrigerator shut and making the items on the top of it shake in their places. She took in a deep breath as my eyes widened at her random behavior. “Why is it so much easier for you and Mace?”

I was truly stumped as to what my answer could possibly be to this question. This was so out of the blue that I wasn’t prepared for a conversation like this. I thought it would be another one of those, ‘What’s wrong with you?’ conversations. Now she was laying her heart out on display for me and I hadn’t a clue what to do with it.

“It’s not…” I went to say, but she cut me off with her high-pitched tone once again.

“I swear to God if you tell me ‘It’s not like that,’ again…” she warned, her bright blue eyes becoming slightly glassy as tears pooled in her eyes. 

Where was all of this coming from?

“Isla, why is this an issue all of the sudden?” I asked slowly, placing my books on the table and meeting her eyes once again.

“It’s not all of the sudden! It’s been like this for years, Sade!” she bellowed, throwing her arms up in frustration.

I almost stopped breathing as she announced the timeline, knowing what was about to come next without another thought about it. She was bringing up the same things Mason had on the phone last night. Isla never once put the blame on herself, for anything. It always had to be someone else’s fault, someone else’s problem.

One time, when we were about five and six, we played dress up in my mother’s walk-in closet. At that age, nothing was standing between us. Friends hadn’t been a problem in the forefront of our minds and sports hadn’t been included in my siblings’ lives just yet. Isla and I could play with one another without a worry in the world. She was trying on my mother’s too-high gold heels and I knew something bad was going to happen as she walked in them. She was wobbling too much, but still wanted to try them on the stairs so she could seem ‘grown up.’