Page 105 of Road Queens
“Sorry,” Amanda whispered. “I guess that was harder than I meant.”
“You guess? Stay away from me, you flame-haired psychopath. And why aren’t you running? You should definitely be running.” Sidney lowered her voice. “It’s possible I’m making more of a fuss than warranted to give Cass something else to focus on.” She cleared her throat. “Ow owowwwww, this is a pain I’ve never felt before! Stop grinning, you unrepentant cow. And I’m still waiting on that cane.”
Cassandra returned with an ice pack. “Nobody’s running anywhere,” she said mildly. “Amanda’s right, I’m not alone. I’m kind of embarrassed I forgot that for a minute.” She knelt, pulled off Sidney’s shoe and sock, revealing her surprisingly delicate foot and plump toes, then plopped the ice pack on her ankle. They all pretended one of her tears hadn’t fallen on said ice pack, because the only thing Cassandra hated more than crying (“It’s never solved anything. Not once.”) was someone pointing out she was crying.
“There. Sit still for a bit. Don’t you dare move that ice pack for at least five minutes.”
“But it’s cooooold,” Sidney whined. “Can’t you make me a room-temperature ice pack?” She caught Amanda’s gaze and winked. “Soooooo coooooold.”
“Oh, stop it. And thanks. For coming over, I mean. And other stuff. Everything, I guess. Thank you both for everything.”
“Thankyou,” Sidney replied. “Your shenanigans got us out of school again. My parents told me I’ve only gotta worry about two things thisyear: helping you and passing geometry. But I think only one of those is gonna happen.”
“I keep offering to tutor you,” Amanda began.
“And I keep telling you that’s my worst nightmare. One of them. Having to sit through an hour-long geometry lecture is as dreadful as that dream where all the snakes are yelling at me and chasing me out of the reptile house on their little snake bicycles. I still don’t know how the hell they could ride ...”
“I’m trying not to be insulted,” Amanda replied. “And failing. Plus, I thought moths were your worst nightmare.”
“It’s a long list,” Sidney snapped. “Right now my subconscious is taking a break from the nightmare about moths taking over the radio station and is dishing out snakes on bikes. Do I know why? Fuck no. Do I care why? Nope. I just have to get through it. We all have our trials, Amanda!”
“But why would moths even want to be on the—never mind. It’s not just you guys,” Cassandra said. “I owe your folks, too, Sidney. They’ve basically had to adopt another kid at the last minute. And not just any kid. A PTSD-laden brat with a dead dad, a jailed mom, and a need for ongoing medical care. Who showed up with no warning, lugging a pile of literal and figurative baggage.”
“I don’t think your example works,” Amanda began.
“You’re right. It’s not like an adoption, since I was forced on them.”
Sidney shook her head. “Nobody’s forcing shit; they love you and always have. You can talk and feed yourself and wipe your own ass.”
“Wow! Great! Congratulations on finally attaining those goals,” Amanda deadpanned.
Sidney glared. “My point is that it’s not like taking on a newborn or a toddler or a senile octogenarian. Like it’s that much harder to cook for five instead of four? Mom doesn’t even have to wake you up for school; you take care of that yourself. You’re no trouble. Y’know, comparatively speaking.”
“Now that we’ve got that settled, let’s make a plan. I know it looks overwhelming,” Amanda said, poking through a pile of flannel shirts. They all had pockets; Cassandra’s dad only liked shirts that accommodated a pack of cigarettes, despite the fact that he’d quit smoking five years ago. One of the rare arguments Iris won.But why would she want him to live longer?Yet another question about the dichotomy of loving your abuser that Amanda couldn’t answer.
“Sure, sure. Just make a plan and ... ta-da! All fixed.”
“Ugh with your attitude, Sid. It’s doable. It’s like that old joke about one person eating a bear all by themselves.”
“Don’t ask,” Sidney muttered. “Cassandra. Cassandra! Look at me. Do. Not. Ask.”
Cass cleared her throat. “What old joke?”
“Dammit!”
“So a young woman—”
“Which young woman?”
“Dunno, Cass, just some random young woman. Anyway, she declares she can eat a gigantic grizzly bear all by herself. So her family laughs at her. But she reiterates that she can do it. Gobble up a whole bear on her own. So when they ask how, she says, ‘One bite at a time.’”
“What a touching yet stupid story,” Sidney said. “But at least it was short.”
Cassandra cut off Amanda’s rebuttal. “Since we’re all here, let’s get started. Many hands make light et cetera. Sidney, you can supervise. Cassandra, command me.”
Her friend unearthed a Kleenex box, blew her nose, tentatively dabbed at her stitches. “Fucking tears. Uselessandsting like crazy.” She balled up the Kleenex, glanced around at the chaos, focused on her friends. “Okay. One bite at a time. Today we’ll just concentrate on his clothes. There’s a lot of stuff that’s barely worn we can box up for Goodwill.”
“Me,” Sidney said at once. “I’ll put the boxes together and seal them. I love you, Cass, but a blind orangutan can pack a box better than you can.”
