"Switch beds with me."
I peel a single eye open. Athena stands above me with her hands on her hips and hair braided back into a complicated rope across her shoulder. "I'm not sleeping on John's fucking rock of a mattress anymore," Athena says. "My back is killing me, and you can stare at the ceiling all day just as well from that side of the room." She gestures behind her to John's vacant bed. "Come on. Get up."
I don't register a whole lot of what she said. I shake my head, "Athe—"
"Get up." She repeats. Fury curls her voice. "There's nothing fucking wrong with you. You haven't just come home from the war or something. Get." She grapples onto my ankle and pulls me from the bed. "The fuck." My backside hits the ground hard as the blanket comes away with me. "Up."
"The fuck's your problem?!" I lash out. The anger surprises me. It cuts as sharp as a whip before it's gone again, receding back into whatever depths it emerged from.
"Oh, look. It lives." Athena steps around me to strip the sheets off the bed. "This is so gross. What was the last time you took a shower? Christ, I feel like your fucking maid. Why is this still here?" She nudges an untouched bowl of soup on the bedside table. "Annie left this for you this morning."
I'm not hungry is what I'm about to say when my eyes catch on the face lingering in the doorway. Charlie's girlfriend with Henry grappled around her leg like they're in the middle of playing a game. I'm not wearing a shirt, and she's not quick enough to recover from the way her eyes latch onto the full extent of my damaged shoulder. Something about how her gaze quickly darts away leaves me feeling more exposed than I have the capacity to handle right now.
Athena, intentionally or not, helps me out. "Yes?" She fixes Lizzie with her best cold stare.
"Do—" Lizzie hesitates. "Do you need any help with the laundry?"
"No." Athena step off the bed with the sheets in hand and walks over. "Will can do his own laundry, thanks." She closes the door, and the lock clicks in place. When she peers back over to me, she looks as if she's about to yell some more, but then her eyes soften. "You don't have to do that."
I hadn't realized my hand jumped to hide my shoulder from sight. "Oh." I drop my hand to my lap. "Can— can you hand me a shirt then?"
Athena picks up various some shirts, but recoils upon smelling them. "You really haven't done any laundry."
"One of John's then?"
"John took all his clothing with him already. Remember?"
"Oh, yeah, right. So fast."
Athena bites her lip. "Here," she tosses me a hoodie that was hanging off the closet door handle. It lands in a heap by my feet. "Let's go. We're washing your clothes."
It's like she's asking me to climb a mountain. "I can't. Later, maybe." It's humiliating.
"Can't or won't?"
The question makes me feel like absolute garbage— one of Athena's talents. "Can you just fuck off already?" I ask. "Why are you even here?"
I expect her to back off and grow defensive. Instead, Athena drops down beside me. Our backs press against the base of my bed.
I stare at the hoodie by my feet. I stare and stare and stare.
"Will?"
"Lizzie doesn't know, does she?" I ask. "Charlie never said anything to her?"
Athena shakes her head. "No, he didn't."
"He was waiting to see how fucked up I looked before saying anything."
"Charlie's a piece of shit." Athena gets angry.
"I'm so ashamed." The words detach from me and lodge themselves in the air between us. I wonder how long I've waited for somebody to hear them, even if that somebody is Athena.
Athena tenses as her shoulder leans into mine. "Of what?"
"I don't know. Of myself. Of everything. Always," I say. "I feel wrong all the time, like I can't live my own life."
Athena clearly struggles for something to say. Maybe it wasn't fair to do this to her, but maybe I'm out of options. "Are— are you scared of something?" She asks, finally.
"No, and yes, and I just feel... useless." I say.
"Well... that can't be true, can it?" Her hands are balled into fists.
"I'm sorry about the other day. I— I didn't mean for that to happen," I say. "Shit like that... Well, it doesn't exactly scream normal, does it?"
She doesn't say anything for a long time. A tick at the base of her jaw forms like she's struggling to contain something. Then: "Will, don't take this the wrong way or anything, but you know you're everybody's favourite, right? John and me, and— and Ella and Damien. Fuck, even Henry adores you." I feel her gaze on the side of my face. "You're not, like, a victim or a problem. I never should have said that stuff. I wasn't willing to try and understand before. I didn't want to name names, and, well, we haven't exactly been the most kind to each other lately, have we?" She pauses. "I guess, since we were kids, really."
I shake my head, and speak the last piece of truth I've kept to myself. The thing I've been afraid of hearing out loud: "I'm just like Charlie."
"No—" Athena immediately objects.
"I do things, and— and I don't even know why anymore. It's just going through the motions, but with everything, like, all of the time. Even when I want to be around," I tell her. "I hate it so much. There's something wrong with me, and it's the same shit as Charlie or Mom—"
"We don't know that—"
"Maybe I don't want to know." I never meant to say all this. "I thought that if I just tried hard enough—"
"Will." Athena's voice is soft. "It's okay to ask for help. You're not like Charlie because you care about people and you're decent, and that's what's important."
Her words have me crumpling. "I'm so ashamed." This time, it feels easier to say.
"To need help?"
I don't respond.
Athena goes silent. She gives me a moment to collect myself, and I pull the sweater at my feet over my head. Assuming that whatever this was is now over, I'm about to ask her to leave when I pause and actually take a moment to look at her. Conflict is clearly sprawled in the sharp lines of her face. Her teeth grind and her eyes burn, like she's trying to hold the world back with a single look.
I don't want to hear whatever it is she's thinking about.
She opens her mouth to speak when the alarm to the front door is set off, echoing throughout the house along with Charlie's laugh and Victor's deep voice.
"I tried to forget he was still here," I say, feeling as if some sort of bubble has burst.
"About the other day—"
"I'd rather we didn't—"
"No." She cuts me off. "Listen." She draws in a slow, ragged breath, "I— I hate how this sounds, but I resented you more than Charlie for what happened. You were so different after, and I didn't understand why you had to change. Charlie was gone, so was Mom, but you were here, and I got really angry, Will."
"I know."
Athena looks at me with surprise. "You know?"
"I tried for a long time to figure out what I did wrong," I look down at my hands. "Eventually, I realized you just think I'm weaker than you and that bothers you."
"I don't—" Athena looks frustrated. "Look, nobody explained it to me. It was easier to blame you because you were what was left. I could leave you behind before you could do the same to me."
"Well, maybe I needed you sometimes." I meet her gaze. I don't have anything left to devote to the circles we usually speak in.
"I couldn't take it if you went anywhere, okay? My only reference point for any of this is what I remember as a kid." Her voice grows strained, and her grey eyes are glassy with moisture. "She used to freak me out, you know?"
"Mom?"
Athena nods. "Like, I used to think it was like she had two faces, and she could change when she wanted to. It scared me, and I remember feeling a little relieved. Who feels like that when their mother ditches them? What kind of person does that make me?"
"One with abandonment issues?" I suggest.
Athena snorts. "Fuck you." She continues to wipe at her face. "I didn't want to feel guilty for it. Not even for one second. I didn't understand, and I still don't. Why doesn't she want us?"
"Do you remember what she said when she left?" I ask. "She said that if she had to stick around any longer, we'd kill her."
"I don't remember that."
"I do," I say. "I think things would have been worse for her if she had stuck around, and I can accept that. I'm sick of guilt. I'm sick of not having control over anything, so I can get why she did what she did." I choose my next words carefully. "Charlie, too. I don't want to, but I do."
"I get the anger. Charlie's, that is," she says. "It's Victor that bugs me the most. I said some nasty shit to him the other day. Called him a bad father."
"Do you believe that?"
Athena shrugs. "I just wish that he would, like, give himself up in some way. You know?"
"I think he's tired," I respond. "Like, he doesn't tell me to stop smoking. He didn't say a word to you about all the times you were out this summer... Maybe he doesn't want to push anybody away. Like, Charlie must have taken some sort of piece of him."
"But there's four of us left. He has four other kids to not fuck up."
"I don't think it works like that," I say.
Athena tilts leans back against the bed. "I miss her. I didn't realize how much energy I was actually devoting to not, like I could make myself not think if I tried hard enough."
"Not being able to think properly is shit, trust me," I say. "Sometimes I don't know what's in my head. Like if it's me that's having certain thoughts or if they're just there already. Does that make sense?"
"Sorta." Athena nods. "Can I ask you a question?"
"Yeah, sure."
"Why didn't you say anything to Charlie?"
"I shook his hand."
"No. Will, why didn't you say anything?"
"You wouldn't get it."
"Why not? Try me."
Not for the first time, Athena wins. I keep my eyes down. "I know how to be, like, Charlie's horrible secret. It's easier. It's safe. I— I don't know what I could say. It wouldn't change anything."
"Fuck." Athena's voice bursts our little bubble. "Will, of course it would change things—"
"How?" I search her face for genuine certainty. "It's the same thing as why you don't call Mom. She's still gone, my shoulder is still fucked, and Charlie can still walk out of here whenever he wants and not have to remember us— not have to face any consequences. Nothing I can say will make any difference."
"Is that what you want?" Athena replies. "Some sort of justice?"
"I want—" My voice grows shaky. "I want to forget. I just want you people to leave me alone."
The words are ugly, and yet Athena smiles. "You give up now, you're worse than Charlie. He's a dick, but at least he gave John the opportunity to scream at him and say what needed to be said."
"Stop comparing the two of us."
"But you just said you're just like him?" There's a spark in her eye that I don't trust. "Who do you want me to compare you to? Mom?" When I shoot her a warning look, Athena's grin only grows wider. "Victor, maybe? You've got the same defeated look going for you—"
"Athena—"
"If you want everyone to stop comparing you to Charlie, then prove it." She urges, "I know you're better than he's ever been, so do something about it."
"I'm not going to scream at you." I say. "Trying to make me angry doesn't accomplish shit. You should know that by now."
"I'm not trying to make you anything." The words rapidly spill from her mouth. "You are angry, and it's time you stopped ignoring it."
"Are you aware that yelling isn't the only form of communication?" Despite myself, I can feel my temper rising. It's made even uglier by the massive hole in the middle of my chest I've been struggling to breathe around since Charlie. Fuck, since before Charlie— if such a time even exists. "You can't just wear people down until they do whatever you want."
"I don't—" For the first time, Athena looks something close to offended, which only sharpens her expression. "I don't do that. All I ever want is to not be bullshitted. I'm sick of people not saying what they think."
"You're just looking for a reaction." It's a low blow.
"You sound like Annie." Athena rolls her eyes. "I just want honesty."
"What does that even mean?"
"Look." Athena takes a deep breath. "Everything we know is based on half-baked memories from when we were kids. When you were in the hospital and Charlie dipped, I didn't know for days and days..."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize for Victor." She shoots me a look of warning.
"I'm not." I dip my head. "I'm sorry that it was like that for you, Athena. Genuinely, I didn't know."
"I don't want you to think I blame you—"
"I don't think that. Well, at least I don't anymore." I swallow around the lump in my throat. "If we keep looking for someone to blame we'll never get to move on, that much I'm starting to realize."
A small, sad smile curves Athena's lips. "I don't even know what moving on would look like. I just feel like we've lost so much time, like it's too late. I used to be so sure about everything, now..." She trails off, shaking her head.
"I've never really trusted all your, like, confidence, I guess." I shrug. "I mean, you make things look easy, and my first instinct is to be jealous, but, like, you're just as confused as I am, I realize."
"Wow. Thanks for that, Will." Athena rolls her eyes at me, but doesn't deny what I've said.
"You're welcome," I reply. "I don't understand shit either. So, like, you're not alone or whatever."
"See, that's not really all that comforting."
"I try my best."
Athena gives me a look, and the throwaway comment becomes something heavy between us. "I know you do, Will," she says. "I'm sorry for not always seeing that." There's a sudden ferocity to her voice. "You know what? Nobody is well-adjusted. I'm allowed to be a bitch, and John is allowed to worry about everything, and you're allowed off days. You're allowed to not always be okay, and you're absolutely allowed to ask for help when you need it, man."
"You're not a bitch," I say. "And I don't want off days."
"But they're going to happen, aren't they?"
"I can do better."
She places a hand on my shoulder. "Nobody doubts that, Will. Maybe just not like this. Maybe it doesn't have to be this hard."
I shrug. "I don't know... I don't know myself anymore."
There's a long silence before Athena speaks."I— me too, actually," she admits, as if she's just concluded some great struggle. "I don't know what the fuck I'm doing."
Her words feel like a reprieve, even if for a moment.