Some say getting out of The Friend Zone is hard. Well, try getting out of The Sister Zone.
Vanessa Hayes-Wong has been best friends with Oliver Morrison for five years, one month, and fourteen days. Just as she starts to realize her feelings for him...
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—Present Day—
"Six thousand two hundred twenty-four dollars and forty-five . . ."
My head spins and my knees weaken as I gape in horror at the medical bill in my hands. I'm about to fall to the ground when Nessa slides a wheelchair right behind me. My butt hits the cushion with a plop, and I slump on the seat.
"See that?" Nessa rubs a hand in circles over my back, sympathy coloring her voice. "That is why you should get health insurance."
I bring the paper closer to my eyes and read the receipt word by word. "I've never even caught a cold, Ness. Health insurance would be a total waste of money. Besides, a thousand bucks for the ambulance alone? This is a rip-off!"
"Look at the bright side," she says, a note of guilt in her voice. "At least it doesn't require too many visits to the hospital like last time."
"Yeah, but . . ."
To be honest, Nessa has a point. When I broke my ankle two years and twenty-eight days ago, I had to visit an orthopedist five more times after my initial visit to the ER. The piling medical bills, combined with my credit card debts, led me to bankruptcy and forced me to sell Rusty—my precious 1963 Dodge Dart.
But even though I only need to visit the doctor once more to remove the stitches, the thought of spending $6,224.45 when I still haven't paid this month's mortgage and Lightning's payment sends anxiety sweeping through me.
"So, now will you let me pay for—"
"No." I stand up and hand my credit card to the cashier.
Ever since we walked out of the emergency room, Nessa has been trying to get me to use her credit card to pay my medical bills. Considering how I'm going to have to spend the next six months skipping breakfast and dinner, I should've accepted her offer.
Still, just like last time, I can't allow her to pay for my mistakes—well, Pikachu's mistakes.
How come I don't remember that?
The question slithers into my mind as I recall dreaming about that cursed Christmas Adam last night.
I've always remembered spending the night in the ER surrounded by people crying in pain and making a decision that led to our undoing. But before today, I forgot how the accident happened. I always thought I slipped because of these cheap, secondhand sneakers. But now I realize the accident wouldn't have happened if Pikachu hadn't gone wild.
What if TJ's right?
What if I do have a . . . condition?
What if I have been hypnotizing myself into believing that I don't have any feelings for Nessa?
". . . go get the car, okay?"
A shudder of horror runs through me at the thought of Nessa driving my precious car. "Oh, no, no, no. Give me back Lightning's key." I hold out my hand, palm up, and move my fingers in a beckoning gesture.
