“Right. I forgot.”
“You don’t have to come. They always have plenty of volunteers show up.”
Three years ago, I saw a flier stapled to a pole asking for adults who would be willing to volunteer their time at a local shelter to be a mentor. All of the kids in the shelter are waiting for a foster home or to be adopted, and the majority of them have never had a strong adult presence in their lives. Chloe and I know all too well what’s it like to grow up without stable parents, and we saw it as an opportunity to give back. We volunteer about once a month, sometimes more if they need it.
“I’ll be there.” Not going isn’t an option.
“How was Dad? Still sober?” Chloe asks, wrapping the tape around my wrist.
“Yup. Six weeks. He asked about you.”
Her hands falter for only a second. “Oh yeah?”
“Says he hasn’t seen you in a few days.”
“I’ve been busy.”
“That’s what I told him. How are finals going?”
The smile that touches her lips is genuine, and I don’t see it nearly enough. “Good. Only one more to go.”
“You got any interviews lined up?”
She shakes her head and twists the tape around my left wrist one last time before ripping the end off and moving to the right hand. “After I finish finals, I’ll drop some applications.”
“Don’t forget to order your cap and gown. I saw the form sitting on your kitchen counter the last time I was over there.”
“I’m, uh…” Chloe clears her throat. “I’m not walking at graduation.”
“What do you mean you’re not walking? You worked hard for your teaching degree, and I want to see you up on that stage.”
“If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t have had the chance to go to college. You’ve spent enough on me. I don’t want you to waste your money on a cap and gown that’ll only get worn once. Plus…” She takes a deep breath and blows it out.
“What?”
“I know how tight money has been since you lost your spot with the PBR and—”
“Order the damn cap and gown, and register for graduation.”
She frowns, but doesn’t look up, and I make a mental note to call the college and make sure she follows through.
“I’m going to pay you back,” she says softly. “For everything.”
“I don’t want you to pay me back.”
“I know you don’t, but I want to. You aren’t my parent, Linc. You’re my brother. It’s not your job to take care of me.”
“It is my job. I want you to have all of the things I never had. That’s why I pushed you to follow your dreams. You’re going to get out of this town and make something of yourself.”
Ripping the tape, she tosses the roll on the counter and looks up at me, her eyes hesitant and worried. “I’m not leaving you here to care for Dad by yourself. It’s me and you against the world, remember?”
Hooking an arm around her neck, I pull my baby sister in for a hug the way I’ve done so many times over the years. Although at twenty-four, she’s not so little anymore.
“Always. It’s always me and you against the world, but that doesn’t mean you can’t venture out and see what that world has to offer.”
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out, smiling when I see a text from Adley.
I made it.