Fighting For Normal

Bernard’s loud barking woke me from a deep sleep. My eyelids felt stuck shut. I groaned and reached for my phone on the white nightstand next to the soft coral comforter. The screen showed several missed calls and texts. Had school really been canceled for the day? Had I slept through the entire day?

This morning, I felt feverish, with a dull ache in my left thigh and deep fatigue, even after a full night’s sleep. I thought it was from yesterday’s tough volleyball practice. My twin, Stetson, had offered to stay home, but missing his Physics test wasn’t an option.

Now the fever was gone, leaving just a slight throbbing in my leg. I pushed the coral blanket aside and swung my legs off the queen-sized bed. Bernard, sensing I was up, trotted over, his thick white fur shining.

Voices drifted up the honey oak stairs through my open teal door. It was Stetson and probably his best friend.

I stood up and headed toward the doorway, Bernard’s soft paws padding beside me.

At the top of the stairs, I paused and ran my fingers along the smooth wooden handrail. Below, Bernard’s bushy tail thumped happily against the steps as he went down. I took a deep breath, shaking off the last bits of sleep, and started down the stairs.

Sinking into the soft cushions of the slate-colored loveseat, I felt the fabric hug me gently. Across the light oak floor, Stetson and Chandler were tangled up, their energy focused on the intense FIFA 22 match on the big TV above the fireplace. Bernard settled beside me, his fluffy fur brushing my calf.

I glanced at Chandler. His strawberry blonde eyebrows were furrowed in concentration as he leaned forward, fingers flying over the controller. The way his shirt stretched over his shoulders caught my eye, making my breath hitch. I quickly looked away, suddenly interested in the geometric pattern of the rug under the coffee table. My heart skipped a beat.

“So,” Chandler said with a playful smirk, “you finally decided to rejoin the living?”

A nervous laugh escaped me. “Something like that,” I replied, hoping my voice didn’t reveal how fast my heart was racing.

Stetson snorted without looking away from the screen. “She sleeps like the dead,” he muttered, fingers still working the buttons.

I nudged his leg with my foot, and he groaned dramatically but stayed focused on the game.

“Feeling any better?” Chandler asked, pausing the game and turning his attention to me.

I nodded. “Yeah, the fever’s gone.”

He stretched his arms behind his head for a moment. “That’s good,” he said, eyes flicking back to the paused screen.

My fingers traced the edge of a rust-colored pillow as thoughts rushed through my mind - how his eyes crinkled when he smiled, the sound of his laugh.

“Ugh!” Stetson groaned as Chandler’s ball sailed past his goalie into the net. Chandler grinned, tossed his controller on the carpet, and leaned back against the loveseat. He was close - close enough to feel his warmth, close enough that the air between us seemed thicker.

I took a slow, steady breath. The gray walls of the room felt like they were closing in.

I reached for a cold, unopened soda can on the table, hoping the chill would calm my fluttering stomach. Then Chandler’s knee lightly bumped mine, his playful grin spreading. “Looks like that makes me undefeated.”

I rolled my eyes and scoffed. “More like obnoxious.”

Chandler’s easy laugh filled the room, warm and pleasant, sending a shiver down my spine.

Suddenly, Bernard jumped off the loveseat, a blur of white fur and excited barks. His paws slipped slightly on the light oak floor as he dashed to the kitchen, his tail wagging happily. He stopped by the white marble island, nose twitching, drawn by a tempting smell.

I turned to see Pops coming in from the mudroom, carrying a stack of pizza boxes - two large ones topped with two smaller ones. He set them down on the cool marble with a soft thud.

“Alright, boys,” he said with a gentle but firm tone, “power down the PlayStation.” There was no room for argument.

Stetson groaned loudly, and Chandler sighed. After a few quiet seconds, the hum of the PS5 stopped.

Pops looked at me, his bright green eyes sparkling with gold. “Sloane, could you grab the paper plates and napkins?”

I pushed myself off the loveseat and stretched slowly before walking to the pantry. When my fingers reached for the stack of paper plates, they brushed against the familiar bottle of Ranch dressing. Pizza always needed Ranch. I grabbed the bottle and a roll of napkins, then headed to the island.

Pops lifted the pizza box lids, releasing a cloud of steam. The smell of melted cheese and seasoned crust filled the room. Buffalo chicken - my favorite. A deluxe with extra olives - just how Pops liked it. The smaller boxes held golden, cheesy stuffed bread.

I sat on a leather barstool, its smooth, cool surface different from my soft pajama shorts. I picked up a slice of buffalo chicken pizza, watching the cheese stretch as I lifted it.

Stetson and Chandler came into the kitchen, pulled by the smell of pizza. Chandler sat next to me, reaching for a slice. Bernard curled at my feet, eyes fixed on the pizza, his tail tapping softly against the charcoal cabinets - a silent plea.

I took a bite and sighed with happiness as the spicy buffalo sauce mixed with creamy cheese and the crunchy crust.

After a satisfying slice of buffalo chicken, deluxe pizza, and cheesy stuffed bread each, I leaned against the cool kitchen counter, watching Stetson and Chandler finish their last slices.

Once Stetson ate his final piece, he jumped off the barstool and disappeared into the great room. A moment later, he returned with his backpack over one shoulder and tossed a packet of papers onto my lap. I groaned, fighting the urge to push the unwanted homework away. I vaguely remembered him saying he’d pick up my missed assignments, but a small, rebellious part of me hoped he forgot.

Pops stood up and started stacking the leftover pizza slices to put in the fridge.

Stetson, wearing a smug grin, tore off another piece of cheesy stuffed bread and stuffed it into his mouth. “You’re welcome,” he mumbled, crumbs falling onto the white marble.

I shot him a withering look, feeling the homework packet heavy in my hands. I wanted to throw it back at him.

Chandler chuckled, twirling his empty soda can on the counter. He glanced at me with a mischievous look. “You missed all the excitement today,” he said, pausing for effect. “Surprise quiz in Physics.”

I groaned dramatically and rested my forehead against the cool countertop. “Please don’t say that,” I muttered, squeezing my eyes shut as if it would make the news disappear.

“Well, at least you didn’t have to take it,” Stetson said, leaning against the island beside me, still chewing.

I lifted my head just enough to glare at him before reluctantly opening the packet. Algebra II equations blurred before my tired eyes as I traced one with my finger.

From the walnut floor, Bernard let out a small, sympathetic huff, as if he knew I was about to face academic doom.

Chandler leaned in, resting his arms on the cool countertop, his eyes shifting between me and the huge stack of assignments on my lap. “Need a study buddy?” he asked, hope shining in his bright eyes.

Before I could answer, Pops started wiping down the white marble island, moving quietly and efficiently. “You should really get started on that, kiddo,” he said gently.

I sighed, staring at the confusing equations again. Maybe I was desperate. Finally, I looked at Chandler and said, “I’d love a study buddy.”

Chandler grinned and quickly grabbed the homework packet from me. He flipped through the pages, his strawberry blonde brows furrowed as he read the assignments. “Okay,” he said, “let’s get started.”

Stetson stretched and pushed himself off the counter with a tired mumble. He took three slow steps toward the stairs, glanced back, and muttered, “Good luck with that,” before disappearing.

Pops dried his hands with a towel and walked toward the office through the great room. “Just holler if you need anything,” he said softly, his voice fading down the hallway.

Chandler had already settled in the great room, sitting comfortably in front of the coffee table with the worksheets spread out. Bernard barely lifted his head from the rug, giving a lazy wag of his tail as I stepped over him.

I grabbed my bookbag from the floor and sat beside Chandler, quietly unzipping it. My fingers touched the worn edges of my Algebra II textbook as I pulled it out and set it next to the papers with a soft thud.

For a long moment, I just stared at the messy numbers and formulas, trying to find the energy to start.

Chandler nudged my elbow gently. “So,” he asked, “how lost are we here?”

“Beyond hope,” I groaned, leaning back against the soft cushions for a brief, dramatic moment.

Chandler laughed warmly. “Lucky for you,” he said with a confident smile, “I’m actually pretty good at math.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help smiling a little. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Uncle Jake stood by the sofa, hands in his jean pockets, a gentle smile on his lips as he looked at Chandler. “Thought I’d stop by and see if you needed a ride home, buddy.”

Chandler started to say no, but before he could, I let out a loud yawn, trying to hide it behind my hand as I leaned on the coffee table. The tiredness from being sick and struggling with algebra hit me hard.

Uncle Jake laughed, shaking his head. “Guess that answers that,” he said, his bright blue eyes shining.

Chandler smiled and quickly gathered the scattered worksheets into a neat pile. “Yeah, I guess so,” he said.

I rubbed my eyes, feeling the exhaustion settle deep in my body. Bernard, sensing my tiredness, came over and rested his heavy head on my knee, his soft fur comforting.

Chandler slung his backpack over one shoulder and looked down at me with a soft smile. “You should get some sleep,” he said quietly. “I’ll come by in the morning to help you study more.”

I gave a weak nod and blinked up at him through heavy eyelids.

Uncle Jake stepped closer and gave me a quick, warm hug, pressing a light kiss to my forehead. “Bye, baby girl,” he whispered before letting go.

I sat there, watching them walk to the front door and listening as the latch clicked shut. The quiet settled around me, thick and still. The house felt different now - no lively voices or movement, just a peaceful hush broken only by Bernard’s soft rustle beside me on the rug.

I let out a slow breath and rolled my stiff shoulders. The day’s exhaustion, the lingering illness, and the mental battle with Algebra II had left my muscles heavy and my mind tangled in numbers. I wasn’t sure how much of the work would stick by morning, but at least the homework packet no longer weighed on me.

With a final, tired glance at the closed front door, I pushed myself up, stretched my arms, and headed to the stairs. Bernard padded quietly behind me on the honey oak floor.

At the landing, I paused. To my right, Stetson’s bedroom door was slightly open. Guilt washed over me. He’d offered to stay home, and here I was, going straight to bed.

I stepped closer and gently pushed the door open more. His room was dimly lit by a bedside lamp. He lay sprawled on his bed, phone held above his face as he scrolled.

“Hey,” I said softly, leaning on the doorframe.

He startled and lowered his phone. “Oh, hey. Feeling better?”

“Yeah, much,” I smiled. “Thanks for getting my homework.”

He shrugged, a small grin on his lips. “Someone had to save you from failing Algebra.”

I rolled my eyes. “Very funny.” We shared a quiet moment. “Well,” I said, pushing off the frame, “I’m heading to bed. Night.”

“Night,” he replied, eyes back on his phone.

I turned left and took a few quick steps to my bedroom. The teal walls and the warm glow of my string lights felt especially comforting after my short talk with Stetson. The soft coral comforter on my queen-sized bed invited me in. I sank onto the mattress with a deep sigh, barely pulling the blanket over me before relaxing into its cozy softness.

Tomorrow would bring Physics, US Government, and another study session with Chandler. But for now, sleep pulled me under. My eyelids fluttered closed, and the world faded away.