Arms Length

Chapter 22: Darkness knows you Well

**Jade**

Dear Ms. Holland, On behalf of Interscope/DarkRoom Records and Billie Eilish we would like to once again extend our offer to you as a summer intern...

I sigh and close my laptop running my hand through my hair. I've read that email probably a dozen and a half times since I got to my desk Tuesday. I've yet to respond to the email its now Friday, I don't know if I want to go back on tour with Billie, I don't know if Sophie will still be there, I don't know where I stand with Billie and that's 100% my fault. I'm still too upset by own actions to actually tell her 'oh hey by the way.... I've got massive trust issues... let's talk this out....you know like adults...' I don't want to be emotionally slutty... I don't want to keep her at arm's length, but I don't know if I'm even worth this in the first place. Call it self-sabotage if you will. Jesus Fucking Christ this inner turmoil is giving me whiplash. I look at my phone, 6:40pm. I take a deep breath and call Billie.

"Hey." She answers after half a ring, like she's been waiting for my call.

"Are you busy?"

"No. Why? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay... Can you come over, so we can talk?" I say in one breath.

"Y-Yeah." She says nervously, "Gimme a few and I'll be over."

"Okay... be careful." I end the call before I can second guess this very necessary conversation.

I look over at the post-it note I've been doodling on: mom's death, daddy issues and trust issues, pregnancy...., fear of love... "Ugh!!" I let out a frustrated groan wading up the post it and lob it across the room letting it hit the wall. I'll pick it up later. I push myself up from the dining room chair and look at my phone checking the time, 6:52. I chew on the inside of my cheek, and go over the possibility of how this conversation will go in my head. Three quick raps on the door knock me out of my internal dialog. I sigh and walk to the door, unlock the deadbolt and open it.

Clad in black basketball shorts and a black t-shirt with Avril Lavigne's face in the middle of it and a black beanie covering her electric green roots. "Hey..." She says with a nervous smile.

"Come in." I open the door wide so she can come in.

"Thanks." She walks in pulling the beanie off her head, smoothing down the fly-aways as I shut the door behind her.

"Sorry for being so...awkward on the phone."

"You're fine." She plops down on the couch propping her feet up on the table and patting the couch next to her.

I sit next to her, crossing one leg over the other. "I owe you an apology... I've kept you at an arm's length and that's not anyone's fault but mine... I get why you got angry and why Sophie did what she did... I 'stole' you from her and that was not my intention, falling for you just happened... "

Billie looks at me like it's the first time she's heard me talk in ages but rests her hand on my leg. "Why were you so short with me at Christmas? I don't get that, you just kept saying it was a bad time."

I take a deep breath. "No, you're right. I was short with you and just saying 'This is a bad time' was not a valid excuse for keeping our conversations super short... My mom died the Christmas before... and that wound was and is still kind of fresh."

"How did-"

"How did she die?"

"Yeah..." I can feel her rub my leg gently with her thumb.

"She'd had heart problems for a long time... and the night she was rushed to the ER, the initial diagnosis was pneumonia with severe ARDS (**A/N: ARDS: Acute respiratory distress syndrome, a type of respiratory failure characterized by rapid onset of widespread inflammation in the lungs. Depending on the health of the adult the mortality rate is 36-52%. This concludes my Ted Talk**). The silver lining I suppose was because she was a heart patient the doctors thought it was heart-related..." I sigh trying to keep my voice from shaking, "turns out it was. Her mitral valve... was infected, she had to be intubated... and her oxygenation levels weren't great. We were told if she didn't have the surgery to replace her valve she'd die, if she had the surgery she'd survive but with her oxygenation levels her mortality rate might only be 15% if we were lucky and we'd probably want to consider hospice. But me and Daphne decided to tell the surgeon to move forward with the surgery because we knew she had a slim chance to pull through and if anyone could come out on the other side it was our mom."

I feel Billie shift her weight next to me, resting her cheek on my shoulder blade. "You're okay."

I wipe my eyes, "The surgeon said her surgery went great, and she did phenomenally. The next day when we saw her, she was still hooked up to all the machines, and still intubated, but seemed like she was making a little progress. Me and Daphne stayed with her until the end of the day, went home and about an hour later the ICU nurse called to tell us we needed to get up to the hospital immediately." I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding until I feel Billie's other hand on my back. "Her oxygenation levels weren't anywhere near what they should have been and, her heart wasn't even beating on its own even though the surgeon told us she did great..."

Billie wraps her arm around my waist gently, as if to urge me to continue.

"The night before Christmas eve her heart just stopped... and my world fell apart... I love my sister... but my mom was my heart... and my heart shattered into a million pieces that night." I wipe my eyes, trying to keep my composure in front of Billie. "And when we tried to reach out to our dad, he didn't want to hear any of it. It was like he gave up... He gave up on me and my sister, on the grandson he never cared about getting to know..." I run my hand aggressively through my hair. "And every person I love or loved..."

"And you think I'm going to leave?" She asks her cheek still against my shoulder blade.

"Honestly? Yeah. You came into my life like a hurricane and...."

"I ain't going anywhere mama." She says finally looking at me. "I meant it when I said I fell in love with you when I saw you in the parking lot. And I'm sorry for being an asshole in Mexico... "

"I'm not mad at you anymore."

"So..." She asks brushing her nose against my cheek gently, before kissing my cheek gently, "are we okay?"

"Yeah, we are." I say, I turn my head to brush my lips against hers.

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A/N: Thank you for the 1K (which isn't a lot compared to a lot of stories) on my mediocre book! I really do appreciate it.