He wakes the next day feeling like he needs to go back to sleep. He groans, rubbing at the itchiness rimming his eyes. Outside, he can hear plates clattering, laughing voices, music and off-key singing, and he frowns for a second.
Right, moving day.
He sighs, drags himself out of bed, and grabs the first shirt he sees from the floor before tromping out into the hall. He finds Andy in the kitchen with her friends making food. He doesn't know what time it is, so it could be breakfast or lunch.
Dylan leans against the countertop next to the stove, texting. She's always been the most punk of the three of them, an artist before anything else. Casey used to think she was more than one person since she's always changing her hair and makeup, the queen of wigs and crazy intricate makeup looks.
Today, she's almost what Casey would call subdued. She wears a midnight blue wig, pin-straight and cut just below her chin. She has black eyeliner with tiny silver stars lining the blue and silver eyeshadow that serves to make her monolid eyes seem more prominent. Her lipstick matches her hair.
On the other hand, Sam seems to dance as they move around the kitchen. Their natural corkscrew girls have been tied into a ponytail that sits high on their head, the dyed blonde contrasting their deep terracotta skin.
"Morning, Casey!" Andy greets. "Hungry?"
He shrugs as he sits down at the tiny table in the middle of the kitchen/dining room, nabbing a piece of toast from the plate in the middle of it. He chews it sleepily, still trying to wake up. Andy sets a mug of coffee in front of him, just a splash of milk lightening it.
He drags it closer to him. "Thanks..."
He listens to them talk, watching them, trying to picture Andy being in school and living on her own. He isn't worried about her affording things; between her scholarships, her college fund, and dad leaving the two of them everything he had in his will, she's set.
"I'm so excited to see the dorm! I mean, it's a quad. I've seen the pictures," Sam gushes. "It was either that or we'd have to share a room." They wink, wiggling their hips.
"Oh no, how awful," Andy giggles.
"The only downside I can see," Dylan murmurs, her willowy frame swaying as she pushes off the counter, "is that the school might assign us a fourth person."
"We'll talk to admin when we get there. Maybe we can choose our own person?"
Casey eats his toast, sips his coffee. How nice it must be that your biggest worry is maybe finding another person to move into your dorm. Andy is all smiley, like she's already started climbing out of the hole their father's death blew in their lives, and Casey's still stuck at the bottom.
"Oh, Case, think you could help us move some of the bigger boxes? Pleaaaase?" Sam asks, folding their hands together and batting their surprisingly long lashes.
Casey sighs. "Yeah, sure."
Why not? It's something to do. In only a short while, the apartment will be silent again.
----------
Up and down the stairs they go, hauling box after box down to the truck. According to Andy, the plan is for them to take the moving truck to the storage depot with Dylan following behind in her car with the rest of their stuff, and then they'll leave for Syracuse from there. There are a lot of moving parts and honestly, Casey doesn't pay attention to the details. Andy seems to know what she's doing and he'll take it at that.
"So what's next for you, dude?" Sam asks, flashing a brilliant grin up at Casey as they load another set of boxes into the van.
Casey glances down at them (they're under five feet, he's got to look way down) and shrugs. "Nothing."
"Aw, come on. What are you gonna do once you've got that last credit?"
He purses his lips tightly. This is just another part of being held back. He's shared classes with these two. Dylan couldn't care less about him, but Sam's always been a bubbly sort of person, round and shiny and happy.
"I'll figure it out." He doubts it, but it'll get Sam to stop asking.
"Home stretch, people!" Andy hollers from the doorway. "Only a few more to go!"
"Wanna get boba after?" Dylan asks, yawning. "I could use a drink."
"Oo, yes, please! Sign me up!" Sam hoots. "Move your lovely butts, ladies!"
And move they do, because only a short while later, both vehicles have been packed and Casey finds himself standing on the sidewalk, faced with another goodbye. Dylan's already behind the wheel, Sam scrolling through their music options at her side.
Andy approaches him, misty-eyed. "So...I'll make sure to call."
He won't hold her to that. He figures that as soon as she's moving into her quad, getting to her classes, buying books and figuring life out, her mind won't wander to thoughts of her big brother anymore. She'll live her best life without him and maybe that's what she deserves. What he deserves.
"Just...be safe out there, alright?" Casey asks, his voice choking a little.
She nods. "I'm not gonna pretend I'm not scared. It's gonna be different, but...I'm ready."
"Yeah."
He takes a deep breath, still just trying to hold it together. Andy shuffles forward and wraps him in a semi-awkward sibling hug, squeezing him tight, and after a second, he returns it. He tucks her head beneath his chin, letting out a sigh.
"Take care of yourself, Case," she says, still holding on. "It can't be bad forever. You can pull things back together and move on."
What does she know? She's acting like everything's fine, like the world is just going to keep on turning, and Casey knows only the latter is true. It's just too much pressure to move on when he's the reason everything went so wrong.
"I'll try," he says. Sometimes it's just better to lie.
She finally pulls away, offering him a weak smile. Then, she socks him on the arm and he jumps.
"Hey!"
"Love you, idiot," she says.
He shakes his head, smirking for just a second. "Sure, yeah. Love you too, weirdo."
Then, she's gone. Casey stands on the sidewalk as the truck trundles away. Alone again and he just can't shake this. If his dad were still here, he'd be going with her, offering advice that only a dad can offer to his little girl as she leaves the nest.
At least she's choosing to jump, choosing to fly on her own. Casey feels like he was shoved from the nest, left to tumble to the ground and stay there.
He disappears into the building, up the stairs to the apartment where he grew up. Water drips from the kitchen faucet, echoing in the emptiness of it all. He kicks off his shoes and goes back to his bedroom, stripping down to his boxers before collapsing onto the mussed sheets.
Blanket over his head, darkness, blocking out the world outside.