Page 111 of Stealing for Keeps
Claire rests her head against my shoulder. She’s burning up but has her arms wrapped around her middle like she’s cold, and her teeth chatter.
“We’re almost there,” I promise her.
It’s after midnight by the time Lacey pulls into the driveway. The lights inside aren’t on, but Claire says her mom and sister are home. The three of us manage to get Claire inside and in her room without waking anyone.
“Claire Bear.” Lacey sits on the edge of the bed next to her best friend. “What do you need?”
“Sleep.”
“Do you want to change first?”
In reply, Claire pulls one edge of the comforter around her, wrapping herself up like a burrito.
“Okay then.” Lacey stands and eyes the hovering boys in front of her. “Everybody out.”
“I’m gonna stay,” I tell her. “Just for a little bit to make sure she doesn’t get sick again.”
“And then what? Hold her hair back?” Lacey asks.
“If she wants.”
“I’m not leaving either. You know how Claire is when she gets the flu, Lace,” Vaughn says. “She’s got a long night in front of her.”
“You’re right,” she says, still looking angry at us and sad for her friend. “My dad is out of town, so I have to go home and let the dog out, but I can come back.”
“You don’t need to. I can handle it,” Vaughn says. He kicks off his shoes and gets into the bed next to Claire. I want to push him off onto the floor, but then Claire moves closer to him, and I can tell his presence comforts her.
Lacey looks to me like she’s making sure this isn’t going to be a problem.
“Whatever she needs,” I say.
She hesitates, and I can tell she doesn’t really want to leave us with her best friend, but eventually Lacey does go.
Not long after, Claire gets sick again. For the next hour, she’s up and down. I feel awful for her. She’s emptied her stomach, and tears stream down her face as she dry heaves.
“Maybe we should wake up your mom,” I say, smoothing her hair back.
“No,” Claire and Vaughn say at the same time.
Vaughn lowers his voice. “She’ll be pissed we’re here, and she’s shit at comforting Claire when she isn’t feeling well.”
So basically, she sucks like normal. I think about what my mom does when I’m sick and have to swallow down my guilt and disappointment that Claire doesn’t have that.
“I want Tank Tank,” Claire says, eyes closed as she gets back into bed. We managed to get her shoes off and all the covers pulled down so she’s a little more comfortable.
“What’s a Tank Tank? Like a tank top? A shirt?”
“No,” Vaughn says in a tone that suggests I’m an idiot. He motions with his head toward the closet. “Look on the top shelf. There’s a purple box. Grab that.”
I’m too anxious to get whatever she needs to question him. I find the purple box and bring it out of the closet. Setting it on the bed, I pull the lid free. At first, I’m not sure exactly what I’m seeing, and then it comes through with a clarity that’s yet another gut punch to the night. Letters, dried flowers, photos…her and Vaughn at a party, her and Vaughn dressed up for some sort of event, and so many more. Not all of them include him but enough that I get this is some sort of memento box.
“It’s a little pink rhinoceros,” Vaughn says. “Her dad gave it to her when she was little.”
It doesn’t take a lot of searching to find it. It looks old and like it’s been well-loved. I hand it over, and Claire clutches it to her chest.
A small, petty part of me is glad it’s not something Vaughn gave her, but the history between them is still fresh in my mind.
She falls asleep quickly. Vaughn and I sit on the floor on either side of the room, not speaking or looking at each other.
