Read Online Impossibly Forever: Two Books in One (Impossibly Duology) by Shane Morgan - Free Book Online Page A

brother, how’s it going?” he said, playfully clutching me in a
headlock.
      
Mom rushed to my rescue, pushing him aside as if I was one of her delicate
chinaware. “Ashton, I told you not to do that to him anymore,” she scolded,
checking if I was still in one piece.
      
She fixed my disheveled hair and straightened my shirt. I grimaced, pushing her
hands away. “Mom, relax. I’m all right. We’re only goofing around.”
      
Her hands flared. “We all know how your brother loves goofing around,” she said
it sarcastically.
      
Ashton tightened his jaw, deciding to bail on the nonsense. “Well, I gotta
run—Football practice for the game in Berlin Heights tomorrow. We’re playing
York College. See ya, buddy.” He jerked my shoulder as he took off, obviously
offended.
      
I turned and scowled at Mom right after. “Why do you have to do that? He’s
trying to make up for his mistakes. How can he if you keep reminding him?”
      
“Why don’t you go clean up before dinner,” Dad said, finally entering the
house.
      
Mom looked at him with despair in her pale blue eyes, and I sensed the tension between
the two.
      
“What were you doing?” she asked him as I followed orders, walking up the
stairs to my room.
      
 Dad staggered back a bit, then motioned for the living room as he
answered, “I was getting some papers out the car.” His tone sounded more like
he wanted to say ‘here we go again’.
      
“Of course,” Mom snorted, following him to the living room.
      
Their voices became muffled as I finally got to my bedroom, closing out the war
of words that was certainly happening between the two.
      
My parents were definitely at odds, ever since I got sick last year. Dad became
fed up with Mom for working too much. Then once she stopped it was the other
way around.
      
That’s why I hated coming home on weekends. It was quieter staying in the dorm
and having less drama, than going home to quarrels and having to lie in bed,
glancing at the blank spots on my bedroom wall where posters of my favorite
hockey players used to be. And after I had the MRI this morning, it was only
going to get more intense. The results weren’t very good.
      
For dinner, Mom made sure I had all the organic veggies anyone could eat.
      
Dad grumbled, “Jeez, will you feed him some meat at least?”
      
Mom retaliated with, “Well, you cook sometime then.”
      
The conversation around the table was mainly about my health and what they were
going to do to fix me, especially since I was going to need surgery again,
despite Doctor Henderson’s previous reassurance that I wouldn’t have to.
      
Dad never said much about it or anything directly to me. His final words before
getting up from the table were, “Don’t worry about it, Branden. It’ll all be
taken care of.” He was only referring to the money he’d have to spend.
      
That night, my chest ached intolerably. I took all the medication prescribed.
Nothing eased the pain. Sometimes it hurt so bad I’d end up in tears, and even
start praying.
      
My mind drifted to Moya and momentarily, I started to ignore the agony as I
kept my thoughts only on her. I wondered if she’d ever stop being afraid, if
she’d ever give me a chance. How great it would’ve been if I’d spent another
night at the river watching fireflies with her. How I wanted to see her now, to
have her curl up in my arms and feel her warmth. To feel the intensity run
through my body again as I touched her hand. The look on her face assured me
she felt it too.
      
It wasn’t fair. That I’d have to force myself to stop thinking about her, stop
desiring to be with her. After this morning, being with Moya was providing to
be even more impossible than fighting to break down her walls. Perhaps it was a
good thing she kept them up till now. Subconsciously knowing, I’d only hurt her
in the end when it was time for me to leave.
     
     
     
     

 
     
     
    CHAPTER