Page 5 of Every Thought Taken

Giggles erupt in the next room, my sister’s laughter louder than the others. Mumbled words bleed through the wall, followed by more chuckles.

Eyes glued on the ceiling, I huff in exasperation. I fist the comforter with both hands. Grind my molars and pray my sister and her friends will quiet down soon. Most days, I ignore their snickers and whispered gossip. Most days, I get lost in my own thoughts and brush off their constant blather.

For whatever reason, tuning them out tonight is impossible.

On the next laugh, I groan loud enough for them to hear me through the shared wall. I shoot up from the bed, stomp across the room, fling open the door, and bolt down the hallway for the living room. On the way, I flip off all the lights my parents left on before they went out for date night.

I drop onto the couch, reach for the remote, and power on the television. I drown in endless channel options as I surf for something mildly entertaining to watch. With Mom and Dad not home to police what I watch, I skim the premium cable channels. I hit Showtime and see a season marathon forDexter. After reading the show description, I start episode one, turn the volume up, and lie longways on the couch.

“What are you watching?”

I startle and push up on my elbow to see Helena standing near the couch arm. In her favorite cream-and-brown flannel pajamas, she narrows her eyes at the television. Her arms wrap around her middle as she stares at the screen. I sit up farther and scoot to one end of the couch in silent invitation.

“Some show calledDexter.” I shrug. “Want to watch it with me?”

She twists her hands together and looks toward the hallway. When she turns back to face me, she gives a halfhearted nod. “Yeah. Okay. But I need a drink and a snack.”

I press pause on the remote and follow her into the kitchen. Turning on the light over the stove, we squint at the sudden brightness. While Helena goes to the pantry, I open the fridge and scan the drink options.

“Pepsi, Dr Pepper, Sierra Mist, or Mountain Dew?”

Helena peeks out of the pantry and taps her lips with a finger. “Hmm. Sierra Mist, please. Any snack requests?”

I shake my head as I grab two cans from the fridge.

She exits the pantry with several bags and boxes, a guilty smile on her face. “Couldn’t decide.”

For the first time in months, I laugh. It hurts and feels good. “Bring them all.”

We shuffle back to the living room, open the cans, bags, and boxes. I scoot the coffee table closer. Offer her one of the throw blankets on the couch arm. We stuff our faces and watch the rest of the episode. Just as the episode ends, Ales and Magdalena come out.

“Movie night?” Ales asks.

I press pause as the next episode starts, open my mouth to answer, but Helena cuts me off.

“Um, not really.” She side-eyes me for a second. “It’s some new show about a serial killer that kills serial killers.” Her forehead wrinkles. “It’s… strange.”

I flinch but don’t think she notices. Her use of the word strange is a swift kick to my back, to my stomach. Only one episode in, I feel the opposite about the show and character. Calm and somewhat indifferent. Maybe it will change the more I watch. Maybe not.

“Not sure that’s a good show to watch, Baby A.”

I roll my eyes. “Don’t care. Mom and Dad aren’t home and I’m watching it.” I gesture to the empty space on the couch next to Helena. “Stay or don’t. Either way, I’m watching.”

I press play, sit back, and toss a blanket over myself. Ales and Magdalena shuffle past the table and plop down next to Helena. She scoots closer and her leg brushes my leg. For a moment, I ignore the television.

Wouldn’t say I am anti touching, but it isn’t often I sit this close to anyone. Hugs happen even less. Not because no one loves me or is opposed to hugging me. I tend to avoid them. Physical affection makes me uncomfortable. Like I owe the person something other than a hug or kiss on the cheek. Like I need to thank them or say something after. Tell them I love them.

Ales is the only person I hug. The only person I say I love you to. It doesn’t feel forced when I say it to her. And she doesn’t guilt me if I don’t tell her. Our shared affection has always been easy, unlike with our parents.

Although I don’t love her, Helena makes me comfortable too. Safe enough to be close or talk. She is my sister’s best friend, but also my friend. We have known each other for years. Most of all, she doesn’t make me feel less important or unworthy.

Bags crinkle as we crunch on chips, pretzels, and other snacks. Halfway through the episode, snores filter through the quiet parts of the episode. I lean forward and see Ales sleeping on Magdalena’s shoulder and Magdalena asleep on the couch arm. Helena is awake, a small smile on her lips.

“I always fall asleep last,” she whispers.

I sit back and sink farther into the couch. “Me too.”

She inches closer and leans in. “Do you like this show?” Her warm breath hits my cheek. Out of the corner of my eye, she twists her hands in her lap.