The tears blinded me as I went upstairs. I ended up in Sienna's room, in the armchair where I had sat so many times and watched her get ready. My parents had shut the door on her room when she left for college. It was a shrine just waiting in case she ever came home. My room was almost the same except for the addition of my mother's treadmill and two old dressers she had bought with the idea of renovating them into shabby chic masterpieces.
"I miss you," I said to her perfect room. I had to squeeze my eyes shut to ward off the last image I had of her. "I hope you know I hate you. I hate you for leaving me with this whole mess."
I opened my eyes and focused on the photographs on her wall. Sienna dancing in our backyard, Sienna in her cheerleader uniform, Sienna and I in matching dresses for an Easter party.
"I know, I know, it’s my mess," I said. "You were never good with messes. I can't walk away, though. You always moved forward, moved on, but I can't."
Sienna had moved on and left me behind again. She had made a mess she did not know how to clean up and her suicide was only supposed to be a cry for help. I knew that now. She had just cut too deep and waited too long.
Now, Owen was in a mess and refused to help himself.
"It just hurts too much right now," I told Sienna. "I'll help him. I know you would want me to, but right now, I just wish you were here."
I could see her standing in front of her closet, her hands on her hips. Sienna would have told me to focus on myself, make a plan. What did I want tomorrow to look like?
At least that was becoming clearer. The more I thought about becoming an EMT, the more sense it made. I had liked nursing because I liked helping people, but the idea of walking the same white halls day in and day out made me feel trapped. It was too settled, too stationary, and I wanted to move. If I completed my training and earned my certification as an EMT, I would have more freedom.
Sienna had been right about looking to the future. It calmed me and made me feel better. I had a plan, and there was something I could do towards it. I wanted to earn the money for my training on my own. All I had to do was log on and try out more of the new Mars game. It felt good to have a clear way towards what I wanted. It was much easier than thinking about Owen.
I headed downstairs and heard my parents in the kitchen. "Quinn? Is that you? We brought you back some food," my mother called.
I joined them around our kitchen island. My mother was looking tired, her mouth drooping at the corners, but she forced a smile as she poured herself a glass of wine.
"How has your night been?" my father asked. He clearly wanted to ask what I had been doing with my time. I knew it killed him to think I was just sitting around idle while my future hung in the balance.
"Actually," I said. "I've got good news."
"Really?" my mother asked. "It looks like you've been crying."
I waved away her concern. "Mother thought it would be a good idea if I got my whole plan all figured out and then presented it like Sienna used to do," I said.
My father flinched at Sienna's name. "So there's at least a plan forming."
"And, I wanted to let you know I got a job in the meantime," I said. "You're not going to like it because it’s a video gaming job, but it pays well."
"What kind of job?" he asked.
"I'm testing out a new game. It’s called Beta Testing. I play the game and give the creators feedback. They track my progress through the game and make changes depending on what I am able to do."
"So you're telling me you're going downstairs to play video games," my father said.
"She just said it was a job, she's getting paid to do it," my mother said.
"You think it’s okay if she throws away her future playing games?"
My mother cringed at his harsh tone. Her mouth quivered and she finished her wine quickly. I did not like the clouded look in her eyes.
"I don't need to work tonight," I said to my mother.
She shook her head. "No, go ahead. I'm not feeling well. I'm going to head upstairs."
She left and I stayed in the kitchen feeling nervous. My father pretended like nothing was wrong. He even tried to hum as he put away the food he had brought home for me. After the counter was cleared, he headed towards his office and shut the door.
I checked my watch – it was not even 9 pm. The happy hour party at Owen's apartment was probably turning into an all-nighter. I shoved the thought away and headed downstairs. Sienna would have stayed focused.
Still, I checked my messages before I logged on. There were two from Owen.
"Quinn, I don't know what happened. I guess I freaked out. I forgot to eat and drank too much and it all fell apart. How did it all fall apart? I need to talk to you. I need to see you. Please, call me. I didn't mean to hurt you," his first message said.