Spin

Chapter Nineteen

You know, you would think that after all that, it would have to get better. I mean, when you hit bottom, there's nowhere to go but up, right?

Wrong.

The next few weeks were a blur while my parents scrambled to hire a lawyer and Cody recovered. Our court date was set, and the reporters were milling around our yard and calling us so often that Dad was forced to keep the shades drawn and the phone off the hook.

I woke up early one morning, and the first thing I did was run to the bathroom. I dropped to my knees as my stomach constricted violently, and I threw up. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I vomited again and again. I barely heard the bathroom door open.

"Lexi, are you okay? What's wrong, honey?" I felt my mother's cool, soft hands on my forehead as she pulled my hair away from my face.

"I must have eaten something that made me sick," I mumbled, leaning heavily against her body.

"Do you feel better now?" Mom asked softly.

"Yeah, just weak," I replied wearily.

"Let's get you back to bed." Mom helped me to my feet. Fatigue washed over me, and I was suddenly so tired I could hardly stand. Mom pulled my blanket up to my shoulders and kissed my cheek as I settled in the bed.

"Yell if you need something," she said. I could barely keep my eyes open. Why was I so tired? I didn't have the chance to worry about it. I fell back into an exhausted sleep before my mother even turned out the light.

                                                                                 ****

I awakened to the sound of muffled crying. Disoriented at first, I rubbed my eyes sleepily before climbing out of bed. I stepped out into the hall, where the sound grew louder, closer.

"Mom?" I called softly.

I looked up the hallway and noticed a light on in the last bedroom.

Spin's room.

None of us had set foot in the bedroom since his death. Dad had pulled the door shut when we returned home from the funeral. I walked toward the shaft of light spilling into the hall, trepidation weighing down my steps.

"Mom?"

I stopped in the doorway of Spin's room, my heart constricting. My mother sat on Spin's bed, the sheets in a tangled disarray, just as he had left them. She clutched his favorite T-shirt to her chest, weeping pitifully, as though she had never experienced such raw, open agony.

She's just as lost as I am, I realized.

"Mom? Are you okay?"

She looked up at me with bleak, saddened eyes.

"My baby's dead," she said hoarsely, tears rolling freely down her cheeks. I ran to her, falling on my knees and burying my face in her lap.

"I'm so sorry, Mama. It's all my fault. If I had listened to Spin that night, none of this would've happened." By this point, I was crying too, tears soaking my cheeks.

"No, Lexi, it's not your fault. Spencer was always so protective over you. He was like that from the day you were born. He wasn't even two years old, but he was so excited to be a big brother. My God, he loved you." Mom burst into a fresh round of tears, and I clung to her, Spin's shirt crushed between us. That was how my father later found us, in my dead brother's forever empty bedroom surrounded by his things that would forever go untouched, weeping for all that we had lost and all we would never have again.