Losing It
Owen nods. “English Breakfast?”
“Thank you,” I say.
“I’ll make it.” Reggie steps toward the kitchen. “You know he can’t do it right.”
“Hey!” Owen feigns offense.
Reggie blows him a kiss.
Owen catches it.
God, they really are adorable.
Which is good.
The happy, in love vibes will make this easier.
I think.
“I, um… I have to talk to you.” I take a step toward the couch. Then another. Then I’m there. Their apartment is nice, but it’s small. Two bedrooms, a tiny den, a smaller kitchen. “About some stuff.”
“Sure.” Owen turns to Reggie. They exchange one of those couple looks.
Reggie motions one minute then he fills the kettle with water and turns it on.
Right. He’s making the tea.
And I… Uh…
“Wes, can you take your bags to the office?” Reggie asks. “The couch is a pull out. It’s small for two, but—”
“I wouldn’t dream of getting between Owen and Vampire Diaries,” Wes says.
“My kind of man,” Owen says.
“Should I be jealous?” Reggie teases.
Owen nods.
Reggie shakes his head you’re ridiculous.
He is. My brother is ridiculous. And tough. And caring.
And I…
I just have to say it.
I open my mouth to start, but words refuse to form.
So I sit.
The leather couch is cool against my bare legs. It’s a million degrees outside, but the air-conditioning is turned to high. It’s freezing in here.
Too freezing.
I press my palms into my thighs. Smooth my dress.
Owen takes a seat next to me. “How was your flight?”
“Good. Long.” I press my lips together. “I… um, I’m pretty used to it now.”
He nods. “You’re back and forth a lot.”
Thanksgiving, Christmas, summers. Well, my first two. I’ve spent a lot of time in Chicago.
It’s not as horrible as I remember.
But it’s already clear it’s not for me.
That this life isn’t for me.
“Here we go.” Reggie moves into the main room with a steaming mug of tea. He crosses to us, sets it on the side table, plants a kiss on my cheek. “I’ll give you a minute.”
“Thanks.” I press my palms together. Watch my brother-in-law clear the room.
It’s just me and my brother and my confession.
No time like the present.
I just have to say it.
In one go.
“Owen, I have to tell you something.” I force the words off my lips.
Owen nods. “Sure.”
“I…” Deep breath. Slow exhale. Fast. Like a Band-Aid. “I’m not going to med school.”
“Oh.” Concern fills his hazel eyes, but he stays silent.
“It’s not because of Wes. I mean, it kind of is. But it’s not that I’m leaving school for him.” Deep breath. “It’s that he helped me realize I don’t want to be a doctor.”
Owen stares back at me, still and silent.
“I hated my biology classes. I hate scribing. I hate hospitals. When I catch a glimpse of House, or ER, or Grey’s Anatomy, I feel sick. I don’t want to be a doctor. I don’t have any clue what I want to do, but I know it’s not that.”
My brother nods. An I understand nod.
It’s not an I accept this and also see how right you are and by the way I love and support you no matter what nod, but it’s a start.
“I’ve spent my entire life on this plan someone else laid out for me.” I unfold my hands. Turn toward my brother. “It was a good plan, but it wasn’t for me. I need to get off it. I need to figure out what I want.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
He nods. “You hated pre-med that much?”
“I did.”
“Why didn’t you say something?”
“I talked about it all the time.”
He shakes his head. “You said it was hard. That you were stressed. That studying was a drag. But, Q, if I had any idea you were this unhappy—”
“You’re not mad?”
“No.” His voice is soft. Sweet. “Why would I be?”
“I don’t know. I thought… I don’t know.”
“You know what I want for you, more than anything?”
“A hot boyfriend?”
He chuckles. “No, that comes in second.” He turns toward me. “I want you to be happy.”
“Oh.”
“Oh?”
“I just… I really thought you’d be mad.”
He shakes his head. “You’re sure about this?”
“I really am.”
“How do you feel?”
“Terrified. But in a good way.”
“Then I’m happy for you.” My brother pulls me into a tight hug.
“Thanks.” I settle into my seat. Wrap my fingers around my cup. Take a sip.
It’s good tea. Strong, malty, comforting.
But I don’t need the comfort.
I… I’m okay.
I’m really going to be okay.
Well—”Mom and Dad are going to freak.”
“Yeah, but they’ll get over it?”
“You think so?”
“Yeah.” He stands and looks to the bedroom. “They want you to be happy too.”
“I’m the first Thorn to ditch med school… ever.”
“They’ll freak until you find a job. Then, they’ll be happy.”
“And Wes?”
He laughs. “They love the Keatings.”
That is true.
“You know, Mom used to talk about how she wanted the two of you to get married.”
“She did not.”
He nods. “She thought you’d make an adorable couple.”
“We do.”
“Yeah, you do.”
“Why are you standing?”
“I have news.”