“Because I’ve been having some headaches.”
“What kind of headaches? Migraines?”
“Kind of, but medication hasn’t helped. And I had some tests done, which indicated there might be something else wrong.”
“Like what? Why do I feel like you’re not giving me the whole story here, Dallas? Why do I feel like I’m the last to know what’s really going on?”
“Look, I’ll know more after I talk to the doctor in Boston, okay?”
“I don’t like this. I don’t like this at all. How could you just drop this on me right in the middle of a Saturday? I’m supposed to have lunch with a friend today, and now all I’ll do is fret about this!”
I bit my tongue and took a deep breath. “My appointment is on Tuesday. I’ll let you know how it goes.”
“And how long has Finn known about this?”
“A couple weeks.”
“And you’re just telling me now?”
“Like I said, I’ve been busy, and I really don’t want anyone to worry. Everything is going to be fine.”
“Something about this isn’t right, Dallas. I want to talk to Finn and find out what’s really going on.”
Because of course, Finn would know more about my own head than I would. But I didn’t argue, because I wanted to end this conversation and call my brother before she did. “I’ll talk to you soon, Mom.”
She was still talking when I ended the call. I hit Finn’s name in my recents, glad when he picked up right away.
“Dallas?”
“Yeah, it’s me.”
“How’s the trip going? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I decided to fly, and I stopped in Detroit to see a friend. Listen, I talked to Mom.”
“Did you tell her?”
“Sort of.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I sort of told her the truth and sort of didn’t. I told her about the headaches and the tests, and I told her that I was coming to Boston to meet with a surgeon you know.”
“You didn’t tell her about the tumor?”
“No.”
“Shit, Dallas, now she’s calling me.”
“I figured that would happen. Don’t tell her anything else.”
“What am I supposed to say?”
“Say that it’s my fucking business, not yours.”
Finn exhaled loudly. “Have you given any more thought to treatment?”
“I haven’t decided anything yet.”
“I was thinking, if Dr. Acharya agrees to do the surgery, you could stay with us a few weeks.”
“I haven’t decided on the surgery yet, Finn. And I don’t want you to tell Mom about it because then she’ll start pressuring me, too.”
“Because she’ll want to save your life, like I’m trying to do!” Finn exploded. “This doesn’t have to be a death sentence, Dallas. I don’t understand you at all.”
“What is so hard to understand about wanting to control what happens to my fucking body?”
“Do you want to suffer, is that it? Are you still trying to prove how badass you are? Or do you think you deserve this somehow?”
“Fuck you, Finn,” I said, louder than I should have. Some guy was doing yard work next door and glanced over his shoulder at me. But my brother’s words were hitting a nerve.
“I’m serious, Dallas. I’ve been sitting here trying to wrap my brain around this for weeks now. Wondering if you’re looking at this as one final ‘fuck you’ to everyone who cares about you and wants to help, or if beneath all that ink and attitude, you’re just scared and don’t want to show it.”
“Fuck you, Finn!” I was yelling now, but I couldn’t control myself. “You don’t know anything about me or how I feel!”
“Because you don’t talk to me. You treat me like it’s my fault I get along with Mom and Dad and you don’t. Like I’ve wronged you somehow by being good at things that mattered to them. You blame me for all the shit that went wrong for you growing up. Those were your choices, Dallas.”
“You don’t get it. Do you know what it was like constantly living in your shadow? You weren’t even there and yet you were, being better than me at everything in every way. Better at school, better at music, better at impressing adults, better at making good choices. You had done everything so right that there was no room for mistakes. I didn’t stand a chance and I knew it, so what was the point of trying? And maybe that’s unfair to you, but that’s how I felt then and it’s a hard thing to get over.”
“Don’t you think you could be exaggerating things a little bit?”
“Exaggerating! Christ, Finn. Do you know how many times I was asked why I couldn’t be more like you? Do you know what it feels like to be told again and again what a disappointment you are? Do you know how it feels to be told your best wasn’t good enough?”
“No,” he admitted. “Did they really say that to you?”
I laughed. “Are you kidding me? I remember in ninth grade, I worked my ass off and got a B on the math final. Dad said, ‘B’s are okay, if that’s all you can do, but you need A’s in math if you want to get into any decent college.’”
“Maybe he thought that would motivate you to try harder.”
“Are you even listening to me? I just said I worked my ass off for that stupid fucking B. For nothing.” I stopped pacing and lowered my voice—this was useless. “But forget it, Finn. I apologize, okay? I apologize that I blamed you for my shit. I apologize for not being a bigger person. I apologize that I’m not acting properly in my current situation. I have no doubt you’d be much better at having a brain tumor than I am. I never do anything right.”
“Dallas, come on.”
“I’m staying in Detroit another night or two. I’ll be there in time for the appointment with the surgeon on Tuesday.” I hung up on him before he could get another word in.
Continuing to pace back and forth next to the house, I fought the urge to throw my phone on the cement and watch it shatter. I felt like destroying something, I was so fucking furious. Why did I let Finn get to me like that? It was so maddening that my family could still rile me up after all these years. I thought about what Evan had said, that I was laid-back about every other thing in life, but my family had the power to drive me insane. It was because they knew exactly how to push my buttons, and they dredged up shitty memories of being not good enough. Just talking to them reminded me I’d been loved less. That love itself was conditional. Was it any wonder I’d distanced myself from them?
I imagined Finn telling my mother the truth and them having a conversation about how fucked up I was. How stupid and selfish. How hard I was making this for them.
Do you want to suffer, is that it?
So what if I did? Was it his business, or anyone’s? Maybe in some ways Finn was right, and I was looking at this as one last chance to say fuck you. To ignore their advice and refuse their help. To be who I was without apology and throw it in their faces. This is me, this is my choice, deal with it. God, it had to be driving Finn fucking crazy that I wasn’t falling in line to do exactly what he said. But damn if I was going to let him be the hero in my story. I had the power to decide what to do, and I was going to keep it.
Suddenly I noticed that the water wasn’t running in the bathroom anymore. Shit. I’d been loud. Had she heard me yelling? Had I said anything about the tumor? Or the surgery? What would I do if she asked me about it?
Why couldn’t I do anything right?
I slumped back against the brick wall. One thing hadn’t changed—she deserved way better than me. Someone who wasn’t damaged. Someone who wasn’t a liar. Someone worthy of her love. I wasn’t even sure someone good enough for her existed, but it sure as fuck wasn’t me.
My phone vibrated in my hand, and I looked at it. A message from Finn.
I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.
And then another.
Somehow when we talk, what I want to say comes out all wrong. Bree says I can be insensitive without even trying.
“What kind of headaches? Migraines?”
“Kind of, but medication hasn’t helped. And I had some tests done, which indicated there might be something else wrong.”
“Like what? Why do I feel like you’re not giving me the whole story here, Dallas? Why do I feel like I’m the last to know what’s really going on?”
“Look, I’ll know more after I talk to the doctor in Boston, okay?”
“I don’t like this. I don’t like this at all. How could you just drop this on me right in the middle of a Saturday? I’m supposed to have lunch with a friend today, and now all I’ll do is fret about this!”
I bit my tongue and took a deep breath. “My appointment is on Tuesday. I’ll let you know how it goes.”
“And how long has Finn known about this?”
“A couple weeks.”
“And you’re just telling me now?”
“Like I said, I’ve been busy, and I really don’t want anyone to worry. Everything is going to be fine.”
“Something about this isn’t right, Dallas. I want to talk to Finn and find out what’s really going on.”
Because of course, Finn would know more about my own head than I would. But I didn’t argue, because I wanted to end this conversation and call my brother before she did. “I’ll talk to you soon, Mom.”
She was still talking when I ended the call. I hit Finn’s name in my recents, glad when he picked up right away.
“Dallas?”
“Yeah, it’s me.”
“How’s the trip going? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I decided to fly, and I stopped in Detroit to see a friend. Listen, I talked to Mom.”
“Did you tell her?”
“Sort of.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I sort of told her the truth and sort of didn’t. I told her about the headaches and the tests, and I told her that I was coming to Boston to meet with a surgeon you know.”
“You didn’t tell her about the tumor?”
“No.”
“Shit, Dallas, now she’s calling me.”
“I figured that would happen. Don’t tell her anything else.”
“What am I supposed to say?”
“Say that it’s my fucking business, not yours.”
Finn exhaled loudly. “Have you given any more thought to treatment?”
“I haven’t decided anything yet.”
“I was thinking, if Dr. Acharya agrees to do the surgery, you could stay with us a few weeks.”
“I haven’t decided on the surgery yet, Finn. And I don’t want you to tell Mom about it because then she’ll start pressuring me, too.”
“Because she’ll want to save your life, like I’m trying to do!” Finn exploded. “This doesn’t have to be a death sentence, Dallas. I don’t understand you at all.”
“What is so hard to understand about wanting to control what happens to my fucking body?”
“Do you want to suffer, is that it? Are you still trying to prove how badass you are? Or do you think you deserve this somehow?”
“Fuck you, Finn,” I said, louder than I should have. Some guy was doing yard work next door and glanced over his shoulder at me. But my brother’s words were hitting a nerve.
“I’m serious, Dallas. I’ve been sitting here trying to wrap my brain around this for weeks now. Wondering if you’re looking at this as one final ‘fuck you’ to everyone who cares about you and wants to help, or if beneath all that ink and attitude, you’re just scared and don’t want to show it.”
“Fuck you, Finn!” I was yelling now, but I couldn’t control myself. “You don’t know anything about me or how I feel!”
“Because you don’t talk to me. You treat me like it’s my fault I get along with Mom and Dad and you don’t. Like I’ve wronged you somehow by being good at things that mattered to them. You blame me for all the shit that went wrong for you growing up. Those were your choices, Dallas.”
“You don’t get it. Do you know what it was like constantly living in your shadow? You weren’t even there and yet you were, being better than me at everything in every way. Better at school, better at music, better at impressing adults, better at making good choices. You had done everything so right that there was no room for mistakes. I didn’t stand a chance and I knew it, so what was the point of trying? And maybe that’s unfair to you, but that’s how I felt then and it’s a hard thing to get over.”
“Don’t you think you could be exaggerating things a little bit?”
“Exaggerating! Christ, Finn. Do you know how many times I was asked why I couldn’t be more like you? Do you know what it feels like to be told again and again what a disappointment you are? Do you know how it feels to be told your best wasn’t good enough?”
“No,” he admitted. “Did they really say that to you?”
I laughed. “Are you kidding me? I remember in ninth grade, I worked my ass off and got a B on the math final. Dad said, ‘B’s are okay, if that’s all you can do, but you need A’s in math if you want to get into any decent college.’”
“Maybe he thought that would motivate you to try harder.”
“Are you even listening to me? I just said I worked my ass off for that stupid fucking B. For nothing.” I stopped pacing and lowered my voice—this was useless. “But forget it, Finn. I apologize, okay? I apologize that I blamed you for my shit. I apologize for not being a bigger person. I apologize that I’m not acting properly in my current situation. I have no doubt you’d be much better at having a brain tumor than I am. I never do anything right.”
“Dallas, come on.”
“I’m staying in Detroit another night or two. I’ll be there in time for the appointment with the surgeon on Tuesday.” I hung up on him before he could get another word in.
Continuing to pace back and forth next to the house, I fought the urge to throw my phone on the cement and watch it shatter. I felt like destroying something, I was so fucking furious. Why did I let Finn get to me like that? It was so maddening that my family could still rile me up after all these years. I thought about what Evan had said, that I was laid-back about every other thing in life, but my family had the power to drive me insane. It was because they knew exactly how to push my buttons, and they dredged up shitty memories of being not good enough. Just talking to them reminded me I’d been loved less. That love itself was conditional. Was it any wonder I’d distanced myself from them?
I imagined Finn telling my mother the truth and them having a conversation about how fucked up I was. How stupid and selfish. How hard I was making this for them.
Do you want to suffer, is that it?
So what if I did? Was it his business, or anyone’s? Maybe in some ways Finn was right, and I was looking at this as one last chance to say fuck you. To ignore their advice and refuse their help. To be who I was without apology and throw it in their faces. This is me, this is my choice, deal with it. God, it had to be driving Finn fucking crazy that I wasn’t falling in line to do exactly what he said. But damn if I was going to let him be the hero in my story. I had the power to decide what to do, and I was going to keep it.
Suddenly I noticed that the water wasn’t running in the bathroom anymore. Shit. I’d been loud. Had she heard me yelling? Had I said anything about the tumor? Or the surgery? What would I do if she asked me about it?
Why couldn’t I do anything right?
I slumped back against the brick wall. One thing hadn’t changed—she deserved way better than me. Someone who wasn’t damaged. Someone who wasn’t a liar. Someone worthy of her love. I wasn’t even sure someone good enough for her existed, but it sure as fuck wasn’t me.
My phone vibrated in my hand, and I looked at it. A message from Finn.
I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.
And then another.
Somehow when we talk, what I want to say comes out all wrong. Bree says I can be insensitive without even trying.
