Page 4 of Rush the Edge

River gives me a look. “I do too.”

I roll my lips. “Whatever you say.”

“Just because I’m at the hospital more than anywhere else doesn’t mean I don’t have friends,” he argues. “And you’re welcome, by the way.”

“For?” The list is endless.

My brother scowls. “For letting you move in with me.”

I throw my hands up. “That wasyouridea!”

If it weren’t for the connections he’s made within his residency, I would have never even considered moving to Chicago.

“It’s within walking distance to Dr. Gibson’s office too.”

Right.The entire reason I’m heading to the Windy City.

“How are you feeling?”

The worry slips out of River when I don’t answer right away. His hands freeze with a piece of tape stretched across a box.

“I’m fine,” I say.

River, knowing more about Lupus than even myself, is well-aware of my particular triggers for flare-ups. Stress is a big one, so moving to a completely new city without a job and only a halfway completed college degree is worrisome.

If I ever want to get back to having a semi-normal life, I have to continue to manage my Lupus on top of finding a job and continuing to work toward the target. I had dreams and goals, all of which came to a screeching halt with my diagnosis.

Not to mention, I have to balance the financial aspect of it all.

I can’t expect my brother to pay for the apartment on his own, and though our parents have always been there to help, I feel like a helpless child allowing them to continue to support me.

It’ll be fine.

I need to figure things out on my own.

“You sure?” River asks, pulling me back from the edge of insanity. “You know what stress does to you.”

“I’mfine,River.” I hold up my pinky. “Pinky promise.”

He squints. “We haven't made a pinky promise since we were, like, six.”

“But I kept it,” I argue, smiling.

River leaves my pinky hanging and goes back to packing boxes. “I sent word to my friends to see if anyone knows of any job openings for you.”

I purse my lips. “But you don’t have friends.”

“Shut up, or I’m getting you a job at a hot dog stand on the side of the road.”

I laugh silently because hewoulddo something like that.

The rest of our time is spent listening to music, packing boxes, and dodging our mother’s phone calls.

“You ready to go?” River asks after finally taping the last box shut.

I freeze. “For…?”

He grins. “For your going away party.”

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