Devil's Lake

6 - Alone in Company

By mid-afternoon, I am home. My two younger cousins—the tall and intelligent Brianna and her rebellious sister Mia – shuffle into the doorway with their weekend luggage. My aunt and uncle divorced five years ago, and while I've remained under the total custody of my Aunt, my cousins seem to have made living out of a suitcase a way of life. It doesn't seem to affect them too much, though. They're both beautiful and full of self-confidence unlike me.

Long silky, dark hair, white shorts, a black top and a lacy pink cardigan, my 17-year-old cousin, Brianna, greets her mother with a one-arm hug.

"Hi, Mom," Brianna says with a sigh. "Nice haircut."

"Oh, do you like it?" she says. "I was thinking it maybe looked too roaring 20's."

"Oh, no," Brianna says. "It's great."

Fifteen-year-old Mia—sassy hair, denim shorts and a 'coexist' medallion around her neck—scoots around behind her sister and dodges her mother. She leaves some of her baggage at the door.

Remembering what my therapist said, I grab Mia's luggage and follow her into the bedroom. Behind me, I hear Aunt Lindsay compliment me for my gesture, but Mia only turns her head to sneer at me.

Mia drops her duffel bag near the doorway of our shared bedroom before flopping onto the bottom bunk.

"Where would you like these?" I ask.

"Where-ever," she says. "You know I didn't ask for your help, right?"

I set the other two bags near her duffel bag.

"I know," I say.

But then she protests, "Not like that. Some of the stuff is fragile in there."

She grabs the makeup box from me, and I try to avoid entertaining questions over whether she has something other than make-up inside.

"Oh. Sorry."

She carefully sets the makeup box behind her bed. Then she lays back down. I take the twin opposite of the bunk and sit down across from her, clapping my hands between my knees. Moments pass, and I still don't know what to say.

"God, would you stop that?" Mia says.

"Sorry."

"Why are you even in here?" she asks.

"To talk . . . I guess."

She rolls onto her side. "You want to talk to me?"

"No."

"No?" she says with a chuckle. "What?"

"It's sort of an assignment," I start.

"An assignment . . ." she scoffs and then laughs again. "You're not very good at being discreet, are you?"

"Uh – "

She scoots her legs around and sits up.

"Okay, so here's what you're going to do," she says. "You can tell Mom that you see no reason for her to worry her little head off. Mia is being a good little girl now, and Dad is not being overly permissive. She feels so humiliated about repeating her freshman year that she vows to herself never to skip class or run away again – no matter how hot the guy is. And where Mia steers wrong, Dad's got a total handle on things. Do that, and I'll come to your defense when Mom sets Brianna on you. Okay?"

"Uh, I think you misunderstood – " I start.

"Oh no," she says with a smile. "I know exactly what this is about. No more drugs, no more hokey séances, no more alcohol. Just keep things cool. It's a deal, Okay? Mia's a little angel. Got it?"