You were the one who didn’t want me to be a homebody,” I said to her. Dad was still clutching my arm.
And now you want him to go ahead and die so I’ll be back here chained to this place, letting you take care of me like I always used to.
But I don’t need it, Mom. I don’t need you like I used to. You’re the one who needs to get a life.”
“Hazel!” Dad said, squeezing harder. “Apologize to your mother.”
I was tugging at my arm but he wouldn’t let go, and I couldn’t get my cannula on with only one hand.
It was infuriating. All I wanted was an old-fashioned Teenager Walkout,
wherein I stomp out of the room and slam the door to my bedroom and turn up The Hectic Glow and furiously write a eulogy.
But I couldn’t because I couldn’t freaking breathe. “The cannula,” I whined. “I need it.”
My dad immediately let go and rushed to connect me to the oxygen.
I could see the guilt in his eyes, but he was still angry. “Hazel, apologize to your mother.”
“Fine, I’m sorry, just please let me do this.” They didn’t say anything.
Mom just sat there with her arms folded, not even looking at me. After a while, I got up and went to my room to write about Augustus.
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