be the strong one; that’s what being the man of the house means—it means being solid even when you feel as if your heart is being liquified into a puddle of pain.

“Did you hear that, Connor?” Mom said, her shaky hands in a prayer position.

I looked up to meet her eyes, and for a second, I thought I saw a flash of hope. Her lips were curved up as the tears kept falling. My stare shot to Dr. Bern, and I sat back in my chair the minute I locked my eyes with his.

He had the same splashes of hope in his stare as Mom had—and he was smiling. I hadn’t even known Dr. Bern knew how to curve his mouth in that direction. Everything I’d received from him in the past had been doom and gloom, and now, he was freaking smiling.

“I’m sorry, can you repeat that?” I muttered, feeling too cautious to dive into the land of hope before I heard the words leave the doctor’s mouth.

He removed his glasses before leaning forward on his desk, giving me that smile I hadn’t known existed, and said, “We got it all, Connor. Your mother is in remission.”

I collapsed back into my chair, feeling every good emotion crash into my chest all at once. An overwhelming experience of bliss overtook every single part of me.

The cancer was gone, Mom was okay, and after the worst years of my life, I was finally able to breathe again.

“Mom?”

“Yes, Connor?”

“I’m taking you to fucking Disney World.”

“Language, Connor.”

“Sorry, Mom.”

1

Aaliyah

Present day

“All right, that’s a wrap on the depressed, emo girl vibes. Aaliyah. Look at you. You look awful from head to toe. You’ve been eating like shit to the point that even your ankles are getting fat,” Sofia said, shaking her head in complete disgust. Nothing like a roommate telling you how shitty you looked to make you feel better about yourself.

I grumbled in response.

She rolled her eyes. “See? This is what happens when you lay around for weeks, crying over a dude that cheated on you. You’re literally mourning a cheater. That’s embarrassing. Now, get your ass up. It’s Halloween. We’re getting drunk.”

That was the conversation that got me off the couch and into a Little Red Riding Hood costume. Sofia and I weren’t really even friends. We’d been living together for a few months, and we were complete opposites. She was a party girl, while I’d rather be home reading comic books. Over the past few weeks, I hadn’t been able to read as clearly, though, due to the tears wetting the pages.

Sofia pitied me. I knew, because she said the words, “Damn. I really pity your sad ass.” She was very straightforward that way.

That night she dragged me out for a girls’ night before she ditched me within ten minutes of finding some guy to make out with in a bathroom stall.

I shouldn’t have expected anything else from her. She was pretty much a stranger to me, and still my closest friend.

Talk about a sad life story, Aaliyah.

After uncomfortably standing around, feeling oddly alone in a very crowded room, I’d stepped outside of Oscar’s Bar for some fresh air. I tried to call Sofia, who hadn’t been answering her phone for the past twenty or so minutes. The infamous Sofia disappearing act. I probably wouldn’t see her for a few days, but she’d randomly reappear at the apartment with a pack of cigarettes, a stockpile of crazy stories, and a request for twenty bucks to buy lottery tickets.

The October breeze brushed against my skin as I witnessed Thor deck Captain America square in his chiseled jaw. If that wasn’t some kind of civil war, I didn’t know what was.

I watched the whole situation unfold before my eyes. I always felt awkward going outside alone for air because I had nothing to keep me distracted. I never stood on the streets of New York with my cell phone in my face when I was alone because I didn’t like the idea of some random psychopath coming up and killing me.

That was where my mind always went, at least. If I were on my phone at night, I’d be murdered—end of story. I knew I suffered from an overactive imagination, but I couldn’t help it. Probably too many episodes of Criminal Minds to blame for that.

Whenever I stepped outside, I wished I was a smoker. Not for the enjoyment of it, plus I doubted my heart and lungs could handle a smoking habit, but I would’ve preferred having something to do with my hands when outside. Smokers always seemed comfortable being outside on their own because they were busy doing something. Me, on the other hand, all I could do was people watch, and boy, oh boy, did I stumble onto a gem watching Thor slam his fist into Captain’s face.

Wonder Woman was there, too—though there was nothing wonderful about this woman. Captain came out of the bar after me, and he seemed unafraid to make a phone call on the streets of New York, probably due to the fact that a guy was less likely to be harassed and attacked compared to a woman. Count your blessings, Cap.

He pulled out his cell phone but got distracted when he heard Thor hollering, cussing Wonder Woman out. And by cussing out, I meant he was using every foul term that came to his mind. Whore. Slut. Bitch. Tramp.

Wonder Woman’s back was against the building as Thor spat his words at her, hovering over her body in the most intimidating way. She was already a small woman, but the way he surrounded her made her look even more tiny. Her shoulders were rounded forward as her knees buckled and she took in the disgusting words that were being thrown at her.

I hated some men and the way they thought they could treat women.

Captain slowly lowered his cell phone from his ear, becoming more aware of the situation that I, too, had

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