One Tiny Lie (#W.S Awards 2016)

Chapter Seven

Small World

"How's Princeton?"

"A bit overwhelming," I admit with a sigh. "I got lost trying to find my classes on Thursday and Friday. Ended up walking in just as the professors introduced themselves. Almost went epileptic." I'm never late to class. I knew this campus was huge but I hadn't realized quite how big. I've mapped out the routes to the rest of my classes to avoid all potential seizures in the future.

"Yikes. But, you had your volunteer thing today. How was that?" Kacey's last words are blurred by Mia's shrieks and what sounds like our friend Ben's maniacal laughing in the background.

"It was good. There are these two boys—"

"Hold on, Livie." I hear muffling, like she's covering the receiver with her hand. "Guys! I'm talking to Livie. Can you just . . . vamoose!" A second later, screams of "Hi, Livie!" flood the phone as they run by, making my heart swell and then immediately constrict. Uncovering the phone, Kacey says, "Sorry, Livie. You know how Saturday nights get."

I smile wistfully. Yeah, I know exactly how Saturday nights get. The eight-person dinner table in the spacious kitchen is never enough for everyone. It's always us plus Trent and usually a few friends from Penny's. Occasionally our old landlord, Tanner, comes. Right now, Storm is probably clearing the table and Dan is washing dishes—if he's not out arresting Miami's criminals. It's a mishmash of misfits and yet . . . it's family. It's home.

I sigh as I glance around at my tiny dorm room. It's clean and nice, but I wonder when the novelty of it will wear off—when it will feel like I belong here.

"So, how was the hospital? You met two boys?" Cupboard doors slam in the background, which tells me that Kacey's on tidy-up duty while she talks to me. She's a tornado when she steps in the kitchen.

"Yup. Twins. Eric and Derek."

"Seriously?" I can almost hear my sister's eye roll.

I snort. "I know. They're really cute."

"And are they . . ." She doesn't say the words. She doesn't have to, and my stomach clenches tightly all the same.

I swallow. "Prognosis is good." I don't know that, but I say it anyway because it will make both of us feel better. The long commute home gave me a chance to decompress and evaluate. I acknowledged that the first day in a children's hospital with sick—possibly dying—kids was bound to pull on a few heartstrings. Of course it'll get better. I'll probably also freak out the first time that I face a cadaver in med school. Everyone does. It's normal. It doesn't mean I'm not meant to be there or that I can't hack it. By the time I arrived back at my dorm room tonight, the cloud hanging over me was all but gone. My bitterness with Stayner, though, had increased tenfold.

Kacey sighs. "Well, that's good." I hear the screech of the oven drawer opening and I grin, knowing what's coming next. Sure enough, there's a loud slap, followed by a yelp. I'm laughing as Kacey shrieks, "Dammit, Trent!" because I know that he caught her bent over and distracted and Trent just can't seem to stop from slapping her butt playfully every chance he gets. A few seconds later, there's a noisy kissing sound near the phone and Kacey's giggle.

"Hi, Livie," a deep male voice says.

"Hi, Trent," I say, smiling at the two of them and how completely enamored with each other they still are, even after three years. It's heartwarming, knowing that two individuals with such a train wreck of a past can thrive together. Hearing it in the middle of the night is not so heartwarming. Dan has had to bang on their door more than once to tell them to keep it down. I usually can't make eye contact with Trent the next day, which amuses Kacey to no end.