Page 148 of Go Luck Yourself
Panic tightens my throat and the snap of my laptop shutting echoes in the room.
“It’s—”
Not done. Not ready. It isn’t perfect yet.
It probably never will be.
It’s about a little prince who lives in a world of joy and wonder and haseverything.He has a loving family and magic that can make candy canes and snow and his dad isSanta Claus,and yes, it’s me, but it’s alsonot,because this little prince gets to experience his world the way he should. He gets to see it through big, astounded eyes and feel everything with excitement and awe. He goes on adventures and gets to be innocent and curious.
I shoot to my feet again, sniffing hard against the prick of tears in my eyes. “Give me ten minutes, and I can be ready for the—” Damn it, what was it? A reception?
The rigidity in my shoulders winds tighter, and that ever-lurking dark cloud draws closer, pulled in so quickly through this protective shield I’ve started to build.
Do not be a prick. For this, for something that matters,do not be a prick.
I head for the closet, but Coal steps into my path.
“Kris.” He barks my name, and I stop. “Can you honestly say you’re ready or evenwantto take on duties again? Stay here and keep writing whatever you’re writing and I’ll fill you in afterwards. Save your mental capacity for the signing tomorrow.”
I don’t want to feel this way.
I’ve taken steps tonotfeel this way.
But this is different. This isn’t depressed, this isn’t sluggish.
This isinfuriated.
I don’t get mad at my brother. I don’t get mad atanyone.
Except Loch.
But this—this is a sudden, unstoppable eruption of feeling how many days I’ve spent locked in here, of calculating how many meetings Coal’s let me miss, of the real life expectations crowding around me all at once so I pace away from him, back to him, scrubbing a hand through my unruly hair and my eyes go to my laptop and I want tostay,but I have togo.
Being in here has helped me piece myself back together.
But what good has it done?
And that’s the struggle I always run into. The fact that what I need to be whole isuselessto everyone else.
“I need,” I start, looking at Coal, “to be a part of this. This is my Holiday, too. You said we were in this together.”
Coal jerks like I slapped him. “Weare.Missing a few things doesn’t change that.”
I continue across the room and dig into my closet, find a suit, a striped blue one Wren had me wear last Christmas that I remember not hating.
“Are you sure?” I snap. “It feels an awful lot like you’re trying to get rid of me.”
“Kris.” My name comes on a wheeze from him. “You can’t honestly think that I’d ever want to get rid of you.”
“Why wouldn’t I think that?” Ifeelhow ridiculous this is, arguing with him while yanking on clothes, and I don’t even care that Iris is in the room as I undress; and Ihearwhat I’m saying like I’m suspended in a dream because I know,I knowhe’d never do this to me. But I can’t stop, something is breaking out of me that I never thought would escape, and I’m not even sure who’s talking at the moment, what part of me has control. “What else am I good for, if not standing at events like this and smiling for pictures? It’s sure as hell the only thing Dad made me good for. Why wouldn’t you eventually think that too?”
“Kris!”
“What else can I do for you? For our Holiday? What purpose do I even have? To sit up here and write about bullshit that doesn’t matter? So I’ll go to this fucking reception or brunch or whatever the hell it is, I’ll go to a dozen stupid fucking events and plaster on a smile because god forbid I smile forreal,god forbid I exist outside of being a prop for everyone else’s entertainment.”
Coal surges across the room. I’m half into the suit, pants on and the shirt buttoned to my stomach, and he grabs my arms and yanks me into a hug and I shove against him.
“Get off me—”
