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“Hey,” Maeve said before she stretched her leg out and nudged Harper’s knee, who was sitting on the opposite side of the couch. Her little cousin had been staring fixedly at the TV ever since Maeve had brought them home from school, enthralled by some program she’d insisted they all watch together. Maeve thought it seemed a bit annoying, but she’d never been big on TV, anyways. Harper had said all the girls in her class were talking about it, though, so Maeve had acquiesced; she knew how to felt to be in a different orbit than everyone around you, didn’t want Harper to go through that any more than she already was. She’d locked into the show the second they’d sat down, and didn’t even acknowledge Maeve’s attempt to get her attention.
“Hey,” Maeve said again and she leaned in closer, kept her voice down. Harper turned her attention away from the TV finally and looked at her, interest piqued by the idea of sharing a secret with her older cousin. “We should have a girls night tonight.” Maeve looked at the floor where Wyatt was stretched out, still playing with two of his toy cars, completely oblivious to the plan being made behind him.
“A what?” Harper whispered back, and she mirrored the look Maeve had sent in Wyatt’s direction. The sight of it made Maeve want to smile and cry at the same time, watching her little cousin follow her lead so easily. She deserved someone else to model good behavior, simply deserved someone else, generally. She swallowed against the lump that was suddenly in her throat and continued on.
“You know, like a sleepover,” She said, voice barely above a whisper. “We can hang out, listen to music. Stuff like that.” Harper nodded, gave Maeve a small smile.
“Okay,” She said. “That sounds good.” Maeve returned her smile, her heart feeling a little lighter. It’d be nice to give her a distraction for a night, to have a little bit of lighthearted fun. She’d gotten so serious ever since her mom left, it reminded Maeve a little bit of herself after her dad was killed, the way everything about life seemed darker after, less bearable. She spends the rest of the evening thinking off and on about what they could possibly do later that night, trying to come up with ways they could have fun while she makes dinner. It wasn’t long before the evening turned to night and then her bedroom door was inched open, Harper poking her head inside.
“Hey,” Maeve said warmly from where she was sitting cross legged on the foot of her bed, where she had been scrolling through a couple of dating profiles that Bridget had sent her; no winners so far. Harper came over and sat on the edge of the bed hesitantly. She looked around the room with interest, her eyes drifted over the posters and pictures on the walls, the trinkets set out on her dresser.
“You wanna give each other makeovers?” Maeve asked, not sure what else they could do at this hour anyways, not without kicking up trouble with her dad or waking Wyatt up, neither of which she was particularly interested in. Things with Robbie had been pretty relaxed lately— more than they had been in a while, anyways. Karen had been gone for seven months last Tuesday and instead of getting angry like she’d expected, he’d withdrawn, had gone around the house all quiet like, had been more agreeable then usual. Had complained less too, even complimented her on the dinner she’d made.
“Makeovers?” Harper asked, eyebrow raised. She sounded wholly unconvinced and Maeve couldn’t blame her. Neither of them were really the girly type, but she figured she ought to try, might as well. Both their lives had been spun in a direction she never would’ve guessed— never would’ve wanted for them— and having a sleepover and giving each other makeovers seemed like the most normal thing they could do right now.
“Yeah,” Maeve said, and she tried to put as much enthusiasm behind her words as possible. “You know, we do each other’s makeup, listen to music, talk, standard sleepover stuff. Could even sneak into the kitchen and get some snacks.” Harper’s eyes had lit up by the end, and she had quickly offered to be the one to sneak down the darkened hallway and collect their bounty.
Maeve had agreed and then taken advantage of her absence to try and clean her room up a little, make it seem like a fun hangout spot. She brushed the ash off her nightstand and tossed some of her dirty clothes in the closet, making sure she pushed the door all the way closed. She sat on the foot of her bed and scrolled through her music while she tried to think of anything else she could suggest to make the night more fun.
Harper came back a little while later, arms laden down with a bag of chips, two cans of pop, and several bags of candy that Maeve didn’t remember picking up from the store.
“Hey, where’d you get that?” She asked, before she lifted up one of the bags off the top of the pile that Harper dumped on the bed. Gummy worms, there in all their sugar coated, neon-colored glory.
“At school,” Harper said somewhat hesitantly as she shifted the pile of snacks on top of the comforter, laying out the bags of candy in neat little rows.
“School passes out candy now?” Maeve asked skeptically as she watched her little cousin. She hadn’t been out of school that long, but she didn’t remember them passing out bags of processed sugar to the kids.
“I trade with the girls in my class,” She said after a moment’s pause. “I give them something out of my lunch.” Maeve raised her eyebrows.
“You’re trading them my food for these?” She didn’t believe it for a single second, knew that Harper was keeping something back. Harper and Wyatt hardly wanted the stuff she cooked, she couldn’t see it being useful for some kind of trade. And just as Maeve suspected, Harper shook her head, tapped her finger against the aluminum can she lifted up.
She knew that she should have chastised her, subjected her to some kind of lecture, but she couldn’t lie— she was pretty impressed by the ingenuity. She wasn’t Harper’s parent anyways; it wasn’t her place to try and give her talking to-s. That was Robbie’s job and it wasn’t Maeve’s problem if he wasn’t around enough to do it. Besides, it was funny to think about a bunch of kids in her class getting hopped up on pop and having afternoon sugar rushes. So instead, she pulled the bag of candy open, stuck it out towards her cousin after scooping out a handful.
“That’s pretty smart of you,” She said around a gummy worm, the sugar crystals melting in her mouth. Harper seemed pleased by the praise and reached into the bag and picked out a few for herself.
“What do you think about this music?” Maeve asked and Harper tilted her head as she listened for a few moments, chewed on a gummy worm thoughtfully.
“It reminds me of what mom likes to listen to,” She said and Maeve felt her smile falter a bit. She hadn’t been sure exactly how to navigate the whole Karen situation with anyone in the house, so she usually stayed quiet. “Do you think she’s coming back?” The question caught her off guard, and Maeve floundered for a moment, not sure of what she was supposed to say. She wasn’t even clear on what Robbie had been telling them, or if he’d said anything at all.
“Of course,” Maeve said, having decided that it was better than the truth— she didn’t think Karen was ever coming back and she almost couldn’t blame her; if Maeve herself could get out of this place, too, she wouldn’t want to come back either. “Nobody’d be able to leave you.” Harper smiled, but she knew her cousin well enough to know that it was forced, that the few words of comfort she could offer weren’t exactly doing much.
“I miss her,” Harper said quietly and that small, broken tone in her voice made her sound so young. Maeve twisted the plastic strip she’d torn from the bag between her fingers.
“Believe me, I know how it feels to miss a parent.” The words slipped out before she could even realize and she felt like there was a knife wedged in between her ribs at the realization. Harper had stiffened up a bit across from her and that only served to make Maeve feel worse. So much for a lighthearted, distraction filled night; she just kept piling on, showing that even after years you still never really move on.
“Does it still make you sad?” She asked, her fingers picking at a burn mark on the comforter, left behind from the ashes that had fallen off one of the first ever cigarettes Maeve had ever smoked. She’d been so nervous about burning her fingertips. With shaky hands and the lingering bit of a buzz she’d picked up from all the cheap beer she’d drank that night, she’d dropped the ash right onto her patterned bedspread instead of out her cracked bedroom window. Had sworn so loud she was sure the whole house had heard, thought that Karen or Robbie would come kick down the door at any second. She’d gotten herself an ashtray after; had stolen it from a house party she’d gone to with some friends two weeks later.
“Sometimes,” Maeve said honestly, digging though her makeup bag to give her hands something to do, to try and give herself some kind of distraction so that wave of complete and utter despair wouldn’t come crashing down on her again. She didn’t want to be that way in front of Harper or Wyatt, didn’t want them to see her completely fall apart when she was the only one holding it together. “But I think, the older we get, the longer we live with those kinda things, we get better at it.” She fished out a glittery eyeshadow compact she’d long since forgotten about and turned it over and over in her fingers.
Her friend Kendra had shoplifted it for her back in fifth grade on a rare trip to the mall. They’d run out of the store giggling and breathless, hands clasped around each others’ as they tore away. They skidded to a stop once they made it around the corner and Maeve thought her heart might beat out of her chest, the adrenaline making her legs feel weak. Kendra had pressed the little round compact into the palm of her hand and she’d felt good then, to have a friend that was willing to do that for her.
She’d moved away not long after, but then again everyone Maeve had grown up with had moved on and was gone now— everyone but her. She was stuck; frozen in time and space, confined in this little house with her uncle and his kids, pretending like everything was okay.
“I guess,” Harper said, keeping her eyes downcast and fixed on the blanket. Maeve felt worse then, for not lying to her. For not prioritizing comforting her over telling her the truth. But none of her blows had ever been softened, she always figured it was best to know the truth no matter how badly it hurt.
“Hey,” She said, desperately needing something else for them to talk about. She was keenly aware of the pictures resting in the top dresser drawer just behind her little cousin; just like Maeve knew that at this point, things like that were probably all Harper had left of her mom, too. “What do you think about this?” She tossed the compact over to Harper and she caught it, turned it over and looked at it in the light.
“I like it,” She said, her face breaking into a smile. The sight of it was enough for the weight in Maeve’s chest to shift so she felt like she could breathe again.
“Yeah?” She asked, smiling back. “Want me to put it on for you?” Harper nodded and Maeve shifted closer to her, knees still folded up underneath her, and took the compact back. She snapped it open and swirled her finger over the compressed powder, the little pieces of glitter feeling rough against her skin. She leaned forward and dabbed it across the top of Harper’s eyelid.
“So,” She said as she worked, applying a fine layer of the glittery pale pink powder. “How’s school?”
“It’s fine.” Harper sighed in that exasperated way she and Wyatt always did whenever Maeve asked about school, like she was being one of the uncool adults. Maeve huffed out a little laugh and nudged Harper’s knee with her own.
“What?” She asked, bumping her knee again. “I’m not allowed to ask you about school?” She tried to sound mockingly offended, and it worked. Harper cracked her eye open, a smile on her face.
“No,” She said, smile still there. “You are, I guess.” Maeve rolled her eyes, finished with the eyeshadow now, and rubbed the extra bit leftover on her fingertip onto the knee of her sweatpants.
“Oh, you guess, huh?” She asked, before she lifted her makeup bag back into her lap and resumed her search. She hadn’t looked in here in a while, she she figured there were pretty good odds that Harper would like something she dug up. She found it not long after— a black eyeliner pen. She grinned and held it out.
“Want to do my eyeliner?” Harper took it and confidently topped the cap off before she leaned in. Maeve tried her hardest to hold still as she felt the side of Harper’s hand rest on her cheekbone and felt the end of the pen sweep across her eyelid.
“You like any boys at school?” She asked her, cracking her eye open just a bit. Harper’s face had turned a shade of red and she’d paused in her eyeliner application to give her an appalled look.
“No!” Maeve snorted and closed her eye again, pawed blindly at the comforter until she found the open bag of gummy worms and popped on in her mouth.
“Okay,” She said, the corners of her mouth still lifted up in a smile. “I’m just askin’. It’s between you and me, swear.” She felt the eyeliner pen glide over her skin again as Harper started back up.
“No,” She repeated, with less indignation this time, just as firm as before. “Do you like anybody?” Maeve scoffed and reached forward with her eyes still closed until she found one of the cans of pop Harper had brought with her.
“No,” She said as she opened the can, the hiss of carbonation filling the air and Harper halted in her makeup application, hung up on Maeve’s every word. “Kinda wish I did, though.” Harper scrunched her nose up as she fished a gummy worm out of the bag.
“Why?” Maeve shrugged before she took another drink.
“Because it’s fun,” She said before she leaned over to set the can down on her nightstand. “It’s nice to get all prettied up and go out, to spend the night dancing and laughing. To get to know someone.” Harper nodded as she snapped the cap on and off the eyeliner pen in her hands.
“We could dance,” She said after a moment. Maeve looked at her, eyebrow raised.
“Yeah, I guess we can,” She said before she picked her phone up and turned the music up just a bit louder, still mindful of Wyatt asleep in the other room. She uncrossed her legs and stood, her hand stuck out towards Harper. “Come on, this was your idea. Don’t leave me hanging.” She said playfully and that was enough to convince her. Harper took Maeve’s hand and let herself be pulled to her feet as Maeve grabbed her other hand, pushing and pulling her arms until the two of them got into a rhythm that was halfway on the beat. Maeve grinned down at her as they danced, jerky and uncoordinated and Harper smiled back, the most genuine look of happiness Maeve had seen in a while in her eyes. The weight in her chest melted away and for the first time in seven months, she felt light.