Chapter 2: In Which Derrick Contracts "Mono"
I flipped listlessly through my AP French book that night, waiting for Derrick to come home. I didn't have any homework, not really—just the first few pages, and I liked French enough that it hadn't taken me very long. I just needed something to take my mind off what had gone on at school today.
Derrick would never put me in danger, but for some reason, Jake, Embry and Quil were so sure of this that they were willing to talk to me about it. Jake, Quil and Embry (especially Embry) were able to talk to me.
But Derrick would never put me in danger. That was just sort of a law of nature I'd come to accept, like the presence of gravity: Derrick was sort of protective of me—not excessively, but he always made sure I was okay. Our noticeable lack of father and our crazy mother had led us, a while back, to realize that it was us against the world. The normal sibling rivalry sort of fell by the wayside when your mother was a veritable lunatic.
Suddenly my phone rang, and I started, the ring scaring me. I shook my head a little and put down my book, dragging myself from the couch to the kitchen, and I grabbed my phone from the countertop just as the ringing stopped.
"Shit." I mumbled, and I brought the phone back with me to the couch as I flipped through my recent calls, looking for who had called. Derrick. He was probably calling to tell me that he was going to be late coming home—he already was, but Derrick wasn't exactly a punctual person.
I saw the voicemail was already recording, so I sank back onto the couch, kicking my feet up over the arm as I waited for it to stop recording. My phone chimed a minute later, and I wrapped my arms around myself as I pressed play and lifted the phone to my ear.
"Derrick, come on, man, you're okay." Jake's voice was saying, and I frowned, swallowing. I heard something growl, and my heart started to pound—what the hell was going on? A wolf howled somewhere close to Derrick's phone.
"Derrick!" Embry said loudly, and I closed my eyes, leaning my head back against the cushioning. Then I heard a wolf whine softly, and the message abruptly ended. It had been a very confusing seven seconds.
The door to my house opened and I hoped, for just a moment, that Derrick was home, but it just turned out to be my mother in one of my dresses and three inch high heels. She grinned at me and came to sit down on the edge of the couch. "Hey baby." She said cheerfully, and I forced a smile. How long would her manic faze last? It'd only been a few days, but Mom's manic phases had no set time period. "I just met the nicest man." She gushed, and I tried not to comment on the alcohol I smelled on her breath or the way she smelled like cigarettes.
"Oh yeah?" I asked. I treated her like a little kid, entertaining her, playing along, but how could I not when every few months it literally took me holding her up in the shower to get her to not lay in bed all day.
"Mm-hmm." She said. "I'm going back out in a few minutes, so we can meet at that bar, the one in Forks?" It was so sad that there was only one bar in Forks, but it was true. Forks was smaller than LaPush, and a hell of a lot less interesting: at least we had a history. Forks was, like, 4,000 people who liked the rainiest place on earth. "You don't mind, do you?"
Yes, Mom. It's weird you're going at 11 PM to meet some guy you met tonight at a bar and probably won't be home until tomorrow afternoon. That was what I thought. But because I hated to burst my mother's bipolar-disorder-induced bubble, this is what I said: "Oh, nah. I'm just waiting up for Derrick."
"Where is Derrick?" She asked me, suddenly looking around. I decided immediately not to mention the unusual voicemail, mostly because I had no idea how I'd explain it, and instead glanced up at her with a smile.
"Hockey Game." She nodded, already distracted as she stood up and smoothed down her too-short dress.
"Okay, well g'night sweetheart." She said with a broad smile, wiggling her fingers at me, and I forced a smile back. God, I was forcing so many smiles, I was going to forget what it was like to want to smile soon. She slipped out the door, grabbing car keys from the bowl on the table, and I sighed, closing my eyes. It was tiring to fake it for my mom when she was manic, mostly because I had to keep pushing myself to the conclusion that she didn't care. That this disorder wasn't all gone—just because her manic phases meant she made chocolate chip pancakes on Saturdays and called her brothers just to say hi and had a boyfriend (or several) didn't mean she was cured. When I was younger, I'd gain that kind of perverse hope that everything was okay, in her manic phase. Now I knew better. It was a façade, disorder-induced.
I realized I was falling asleep on the couch and I dragged myself up the stairs, falling into my bed gratefully. I was asleep seconds after my head hit the pillow.
***
I woke up the following morning, having kicked off the covers at some point the previous night. I glanced at the clock—6:39—and laid there for a few more minutes, letting it not become an Olympic feat to open my eyes. I rolled out of bed and stumbled first into my mother's bedroom, checking that she wasn't there: she wasn't, which I considered a good thing, I supposed. Meant her date had gone well, at least, and I'd expected it, which made it easier. At least knowing what to expect made her sort of like a normal mom.
Next I opened the door to Derrick's room, prepared to wake him up for school, and I turned on the light—and he wasn't there. His bed was made, his floor unlittered by clothing, his drawers all shut and his desk chair neatly under the desk. His school bag wasn't there.
Derrick had never made it home last night.
I leaned against the door jamb, trying not to panic. Derrick was a teenager—he was entitled to a little freedom. Maybe he'd called me, told me he was going to sleepover at a friend's house? I slipped back into my room and pulled my phone out of the charger: no missed calls, no missed texts. I frowned, dialing his number. 1 ring, 2 rings, 3 rings— "Hi, you've reached Derrick Mehta, leave a name and number and I'll get back to you as soon as I can." Derrick's voicemail sounded so mature, but I just snapped my phone shut, exhaling heavily.
I was worried about Der.
I wanted to call Embry, maybe Jared and Jake, and ask them about the voicemail and my brother. But I was also his sister—and to boot, his friendless sister, so I needed to make sure I wasn't being clingy and weird. And I didn't want to come off that way to Embry, Jared or Jake either. Especially not Embry. Derrick was a big boy, too: he could handle himself, and it wasn't like I was his keeper. He could sleepover at a friend's house without telling me.
But Derrick didn't do this. He didn't not come home, he didn't not tell someone. Because he knew that I didn't have friends and that I worried about him and that it was us against the world. I glanced at the clock, and ten minutes had passed. I pursed my lips: still a little early to call anyone.
I plugged my phone back into the charger and slank into my bathroom. I would shower and decide after: nice, warm showers helped wake me up, and I was uncomfortable with being worried about Derrick. I didn't usually have to worry about him.
Thirty minutes later, a shower and blow-dry later, I stared back down at my cell phone, wondering if I should call. I didn't want to call Embry. But that was a stupid reason to not act on my concern about my brother. Stupid, and a little selfish.
But I really didn't want to call Embry.
I'd just see if he was in school, then. He would be in school.
***
He wasn't in school.
I waited until ten minutes before first class, standing at our lockers, my heart pounding in my throat. Where was my brother? He wasn't exactly punctual but he took school seriously. He wanted to go to Boston College for Ice Hockey and that was a pretty good school. You needed pretty good grades for that.
I swallowed my nervousness and walked slowly to where Jared, Jake, Embry, Quil and Paul were standing around Jake's locker. I swallowed again as I got within five feet, before I finally reached them, and all of them looked at me. I lifted my head, looking straight at Embry, knowing that he'd be the first to cave, if he had any information. "Where's Derrick?" I demanded in a low voice, and Embry shrugged casually.
"I dunno." He said dully. "He won't talk to me." I glared at him now. He knew why Derrick didn't talk to them anymore. Why was he going back to be really rude, anyway? Hadn't he been all concerned, yesterday?
"I got a weird call from him last night." I said quietly, glancing around at the boys who used to be my best friends, trying to ignore how I felt a lump forming in my throat. "You three," I pointed out Jake, Jared and Embry, "Were on it. And there was a wolf." I glanced reproachfully around at my ex-friends. "And Derrick, he didn't come home last night." I'm worried. If I'd pointed that out, I would have bet that Embry would have answered me honestly, or at least gotten closer to the truth. But I couldn't be pathetic and pitiful.
"I heard he had mono." Quil commented idly. I didn't miss the nervous expression that flitted over Jake's face, though, before it went back to careless.
"Nope." I responded easily, turning my angry expression on him. Quil glanced away, his expression softening for a moment before hand. I glared at Jared, next, who was watching me quietly, leaning against the lockers.
"Okay, you're too annoying. Go away." Paul ordered, his voice acidic, and I scowled at him, the lump in my throat rising. This wasn't going well, I had to get out of here.
"Just tell him to call me, asshole." I responded after a second, and I turned away, hitching my bag higher on my shoulder as I walked away. I turned the corner and, making sure I was far out of sight, I took off towards the girl's bathroom, barricading myself in one of the stalls as I sank down against the wall of the stall. Tears cascaded down my face as I pressed my hands over my face.
Where was Derrick? My twin brother was missing for all intensive purposes but I couldn't file a police report because Mom was crazy and Derrick and I were seventeen until April 2, which meant we'd go to live with Uncle Walt if the police ever figured out Mom was crazy. My stupid ex-best friends were being idiots about it because they knew something and weren't telling me for god knows what reason. Didn't they realize that this had nothing to do with torturing me, as they seemed so intent on doing? That this was freaking serious?
I gave myself a good minute of sobbing like a three-year-old having a tantrum before I unlocked the stall, going to the sinks and splashing water on my face. I exhaled heavily and looked at myself in the mirror, wondering what the next step was. I needed to tell school that Derrick was out sick.
I ducked my head as I walked into the hall, trying to hide my swollen red eyes, which had been helped minutely by the cold water. I passed Embry and Jared, though, in the hallway, and accidentally met Embry's gaze. Embry's face crumpled, for a moment, as I saw it dawn on him how upset I was, but I passed him without a word. He was a jerk, he sucked—he didn't care. I had to remind myself, or else think about how sympathetic he looked in the brief second I'd just passed him in the hall.
I took a minute in front of the secretary's office before I slipped inside, a polite smile on my face.
"Hi, I'm Rose Mehta. I just wanted to let you know," I began, and the secretary smiled politely back at me. "That my brother, Derrick Mehta—"
"Has Mononucleosis." The woman finished kindly, looking sympathetic. "Your father just got off the phone with me." She smiled. "I've sent an e-mail to all his teachers—I hope it's alright for you to take his work to him." I nodded mutely, before I forced a half-smile and close the door behind me, waiting until the door was all the way shut before I let my expression fade to surprise.
Okay. Alarms going off in my head—you may wonder why. Here you go: I do not have a father. I assumed that there was in fact a man involved in the creation of Derrick and me, but he was not a presence in my life. I did not know his name. He hadn't stuck around long enough after Mom told him she was pregnant to see Derrick's and my birth, as I understood it. He would not know if Derrick had cancer, much less Mono.
And Quil had said Derrick had Mono.
Someone—probably Jared, Jake, Quil, Embry or Paul—had faked being my father to tell the school that Derrick had Mono. This was a big conspiracy type thing, though I couldn't for the life of me figure out why. What was Derrick doing while he had "mono"?
And why couldn't he freaking tell me?
