Winter has permanently set in, bathing the world in white. I hardly notice as I spend most of my days writing when I’m not busy with schoolwork. I need to write as much as I can if I’m going to get any better at it. A few days after the argument with Mom, I found an old, tattered book on writing in the school library. I read the thing cover to cover. And I told myself that I wasn’t going to wait any longer. If I was going to win that contest, I had to start now. I can’t half-heartedly enter something written a few days before the deadline. I need to create something that will blow their minds.

Which means I need to write as much as possible.

The small, unicorn-shaped clock on my desk chimes four times in the quiet and I stretch, my back aching from hunching over the cold wood desktop. It’s chilly in the house in spite of the heating. It’s a Saturday afternoon, and Mom and Elsha have gone to the hospital to visit Anwell. I look out the window at the white world outside as I rub my tired eyes, and focus on the strip of black that is the road cutting through it. They should be coming back home soon.

Despite my determination, I avoid going to the hospital with Mom. Elsha’s been going with her in my place, but I can tell that she hasn’t been enjoying it. Still, I can’t bring myself to step inside that hospital. Not with the curse growing like this.

As if on cue, I see her car pull into our driveway. Quickly I tuck my notebook underneath the mess in my bottom desk drawer and lay out my homework in a neat pile. The exam papers she gave me are placed to the side, still in their envelopes. A part of me wants to pull them out and start filling in answers just to make it look like I’m considering it. But I don’t want to play by Mom’s rules.

I grab my latest read off the nightstand and flop onto my bed. If Mom decides to barge in, she’ll see me doing something mundane and hopefully leave me alone.

The book is titled Moon Daughter, and is about a werewolf girl who’s best friend becomes her villain. As I hold the book close to my face, I catch a whiff of the scent of paper, ink, and glue, that wonderful, fortifying scent that sometimes is the only thing that keeps me sane. The words on the page before me blur together and I blink hard, my head fuzzy. All of this writing and homework has left me with little sleep.

The front door opens, letting in the sound of Mom and Elsha’s voices. The door shuts. I instinctively hunch down, making myself as small as possible as I hide behind the pages. Mom’s footsteps are heavy on the stairs. I hold the book tight, trying to keep my face as neutral as possible. My door opens and Mom looks in on me. Her expression is flat, eyes unreadable.

“Keelin,” she says.

Slowly, I put the book down in my lap. “Yes?”

“Why haven’t you come to see your brother?” Her tone is cold. Distant.

“I…I’ve been busy with schoolwork. I’m trying to keep my grades up.”

Mom sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. “That’s wonderful, but I want you to see him as much as you can before—” she cuts herself off and straightens. “Come with us next week.”

My stomach flips at her implied words. I nod.

Mom watches me a moment longer then leaves. I let out a breath. That’s the first time we’ve talked without exploding at each other in a long time.

I want you to see him before he… Who will die first, I wonder? My brother, who is in a suspended state, or me, who’s hurtling toward the future at breakneck speed?

I peek at the curse mark on my arm. It’s the size of a baseball now, the edges hard and spiky. It wraps around to the back of my wrist, thin branches of thorns reaching out in a swirling pattern. I clamp a hand to my mouth and lean forward, fighting back the bile in my throat.

I can’t die yet. Not yet. Oh please, not yet!

There are so many things I wanted to do before I die. Like get a book published. Travel back to the country. Visit Aishia, the home of the kitsune and see its majestic mountains and colorful, blossom-filled trees. I wanted to go to the beach for the first time with Elsha. See the ocean and swim in its sparkling blue waves.

I still want to do those things. But now, they all seem like pipe dreams.

Straightening, I tilt my head up to the ceiling and take a cleansing breath. This is no time to be thinking negative thoughts. No matter what happens, I’m going to aim for the Scrivener’s Guild, no matter what.

Someone is shaking my shoulder. I slowly open my eyes, and the world comes into focus.

“Keelin, class is over. C’mon, it’s lunch time.”

I sit bolt upright. That’s right. I’m at school. Gabby stands next to me, head tilted to the side.

“You okay?” Concern wrinkles her brow.

I scramble out of my seat. Crap! All those late nights of staying up to write after studying is catching up to me. Exhaustion pulls at my body and fogs my brain, making hard to think.

“Just…just studying and stuff,” I mumble. She said it was lunchtime, right? I reach into my bag, pull out my wallet and spring for the door. Most of the other students are already gone. I must have fallen asleep in the middle of first period. When I reach the door, I throw a “Thanks!” over my shoulder to Gabby. Lucky the teacher didn’t seem to notice.

After buying a sandwich and a water at the cafeteria, I head outside to a table next to the floor-to-ceiling windows. Moments later, Ryuji walks over and sits across from me. He opens his bento and begins to eat, leaving us in relative silence. With the quiet chatter and the warmth blasting from the heaters, I find myself sinking into sleep once more, the sandwich forgotten on the table.

Something cold presses against my forehead. I startle awake to see Ryuji holding his steel water bottle and watching me curiously.

“Going on a reading binge?”

I let out a weak laugh. “Yeah, no. I’ve been studying like crazy and writing late at night when Mom’s asleep, so she won’t get suspicious.” I sigh and drop my head onto the table. “You wanna trade moms?”

“Hmm, not really. You can have my aunt, though. She’s super bossy and always in everyone’s business.”

I laugh at that. Sounds like a pain. But a normal pain. I don’t even know who my aunts are, and I have four of them on my mom’s side. Obviously he didn’t get what I meant when I talked about Mom. A part of me wants him to understand. But I know better than to start talking. Besides, what if I’m just being melodramatic? What if that’s just what moms are like?

I frown, then lift my head to see Ryuji going back to his lunch. I squint at him. Oddly enough, he’s never talked about his mom. Is he not on good terms with her? Are his parents divorced? Is he just a mama’s boy? Ryuji has always been an enigma, and I feel like he knows more about me than I know about him.

Just who is Ryuji Haruta?

“So…got any siblings?” I ask, as I unscrew the cap on my water.

“Nope. It’s just me and my dad. I’ve always wanted a younger sibling to torture, though. It looks like fun.”

I roll my eyes, then take a sip of water. “Trust me, they’re more pain than they’re worth. They are the ones who do the torturing.”

“Really? So that’s what it’s like being an older sister? I thought Elsha seemed kinda cool.”

“Well, yeah she’s cool. I’ll defend her ‘til the day I die. Nobody messes with my baby sister.” I lift my fists as if I were in the ring, putting on my fiercest fighting face.

Ryuji laughs, but it’s weak. His eyes flick toward my arm and then away. Oh, right. I forgot he knows about the curse. Dropping my arms, I clear my throat.

“That being said, we pick on each other all the time. It’s kind of funny. We get on each other’s nerves and exasperate each other to no end, but there’s no one I’m more loyal to.” I tap my chin as I stare up at the school roof. “Huh. I don’t think I’ve ever put that in words before. Siblings have such a fascinating dynamic.”

“I can’t imagine.” Ryuji leans back in his seat. Then he tilts his head. “Are you sure nothing’s going on? You haven’t touched your food.”

I avert my gaze. What am I supposed to say? That the thought of dying is another thing keeping me from sleeping at night? That I’m terrified every time I leave the house because Mom might go through my things and find my notebook full of stories?

Of course I can’t say it. We’ve only known each other for three months now. He’s practically a stranger. Do I want to say them? Yes. Am I too scared to? Absolutely yes. Besides, he doesn’t need to know every detail of my life.

I give him a tight-lipped smile. “Yeah. Everything’s fine. I’m just not all that hungry today.”

Before he can reply, I stand and retreat from the cafeteria, leaving my lunch behind. I return to the empty classroom and stare at the rows of desks before me. There are hundreds, millions of people in the world, all with their own struggles. Mine are nothing compared. I’m merely an insignificant minnow in the stream of thousands of koi, dull, silent, and short lived. A koi like Ryuji has no business worrying about a minnow like me.

I sit at my desk and stare out the window at the courtyard, not feeling an inch of guilt for running away. My phone buzzes, and I sneak a peek before the teacher can walk in.

Want to come over later? Y’know, to help you get your mind off things. We can talk books. And Dad’s making food. I already asked and he says it’s okay if I bring someone over.

I guess that’s Ryuji’s way of showing he cares. I don’t want him to care. I almost put my phone down, then pause. I’d feel like a jerk turning him down. Should I go, just to ease my conscious. I groan. Why does he have to do this to me? What should I say?

Another message appears. You can bring Elsha if you want.

He has to pull the sister card, doesn’t he? If I ask for her opinion, she’ll say yes and practically drag me out the door. If Elsha is one thing, it’s very food motivated.

The bell rings as I continued to mull it over. On one hand, free food. On the other, he might ask me about writing again.

Decisions, decisions.

In the end, I buckle and go with my gut. What can I say? I’m a sucker for free food.