Page 28 of Not Made to Last

Olivia

“You have to call every day,” I tell Max, sitting down on the edge of his bed. “Not just call. Facetime.”

“Every day,” he promises, out of breath. Clearly, getting him those cinnamon balls was a bad idea, because now he’s hopped up on sugar and has way too much energy to burn right before bed.

“And journal every day,” I remind him.

“Every day,” he repeats.

“And make sure you listen to Dom, because he’s in charge.”

“Every day,” he says again, which doesn’t really make sense but again:sugar.

“And I know you already know this, but there are going to be kids who are older than you, and they might treat you a certain way because they think they’re better, and…”

“No one is better than me, and I am not better than anyone,” Max says, repeating a mantra we use often. He stops jumping and sits down beside me, sighing. “I know all this, Ollie.”

“Ohana,” Dom says gently, and I lift my eyes to his. He’s quiet when he adds, motioning to our little brother, “You’re going to give him anxiety with your anxiety.”

I inhale a sharp breath and let it out slowly. “I’m sorry,” I tell Max, running a hand over his hair.

“It’s okay.” His smile is soft, as if he’s the one consoling me. “I know you worry.”

“I do, but I really shouldn’t.” Besides, it’s not like he’s going to be there alone. And bythere, I mean summer camp. For two whole weeks.

Max heard about the STEM-based camp through one of his favorite YouTubers, and when he brought up the idea to me, I was hesitant. Who wouldn’t be? I told him he could apply, but not to get his hopes up. Thousands of kids from across the nation apply and only fifty get accepted—the youngest one in history being eight years old. Max is only six. But Max, being as incredible as he is, got his official invitation via email a couple of weeks later.

The way we celebrated, you’d think Max had won the Nobel Prize.

It wasn’t until he went to bed that night that Dom and I could discuss how the hell we were actually going to make it happen for him.

We decided to use the money we’d been saving for a more reliable car and put it toward the camp fees, but that only solved one problem. The program operated during school hours only, so most parents would stay at a local hotel or short-term rental, drop their kids off in the morning, and pick them up in the afternoon. There was no way we could afford that. And besides, I had to work. I had three jobs. I could put off Get Grubby and upcycling furniture, but I also managed a small chain of laundromats, and if I wasn’t there for two weeks to clean and empty the cash drawers, then it would all go to hell.

Dom’s best friend’s dad owned a vending machine company, and about a year ago, I spoke to the owner of the laundromats to see if Dominic could set up a couple in each of them, and they’d agreed. So, I can do Dom’s job, but he can’t do mine, which meant that if we could make it work financially, Dom would have to be the one to take Max.

I hated the idea of us being apart, but it was the only way.

“Leave it with me,” Dom had said that night. Two days later, he told me the plan. Since they ran the program on campgrounds, Dom had asked them if he and Max could pitch a tent, and in return, he would work for free. He’d do whatever repairs or odd jobs, or… anything really, as long as Max could go. They agreed, but offered one of the unused cabins instead, and rather than doing odd jobs, they asked Dominic to lead the daily PE sessions for the kids.

I never asked, but I’m sure Dom used our little sob story to get what we needed, and no judgement, because I would’ve done the same. It was the dream solution, and I couldn’t believe Dom had made it happen. But then again, there’s not a lot in this world Dom wouldn’t do for Max.

Or for me.

“Towels!” Dom says now, pointing to Max.

Max jumps to his feet and practically runs out of the room. “On it, boss!”

Dom chuckles, going through the packing list the camp had provided.

“Have you packed?” I ask him.

Dom shakes his head, distracted by counting socks. “Not yet. I had to put a few things in the washing machine, but I’ll get it done tonight.”

“Okay.”

“The Camry’s making that noise again, so don’t go driving around too much at night. Dre’s on standby, so call him if youneed him.” Dre is Dominic’s best friend, and he and his parents are the closest thing we have to an extended family.

I nod. “I filled the truck with gas earlier, so you don’t have to worry about it.”

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