Free Sister Pact by Stacie Ramey Page A

looks like a sunset. She reaches behind her, then places three prescription bags on the counter. Three. Mine plus two others.
    She points to the cough medicine. “That also?”
    â€œYes. Oh and these…” I throw a pack of gum on the counter and turn around to pull a vitaminwater out of the cooler.
    â€œYou have a cough?” She inspects the bottle.
    â€œJust at night.”
    â€œA little honey will take care of that too, you know.”
    I look at her and wonder if she knows about me. I mean, obviously she does. I wonder if she’s going to refuse to ring me up. Tell me to put the Delsym back. Part of me hopes she will. But she rings it all up and points to the place to swipe the debit card. I type in the code. Transaction complete, she puts everything in a bag and hands it to me.
    â€œOh, sweetie?” she calls as I walk away.
    I turn.
    â€œFeel better.”
    â€œThanks.” And once again, I feel like a fake.
    On my way out the door, I take the cough medicine out of the bag and transfer it into my backpack before I get to the car. I leave Mom’s two prescriptions in the bag but crumple the receipt and shove it in my pocket. Mom’s two scripts are the real reason she wanted to go in and pick these up. She didn’t want me to know. As if I didn’t.
    Leah always said Mom had the best pharmacy on the block. It’s where she “shopped” to get through a test or a breakup. It never bothered me back then if Leah sampled a little. It’s not like she was hooked like Mom was, and why suffer when you could take a little Happy and move on? But maybe that wasn’t the best plan. I mean, obviously, considering Leah’s overdose and all.
    â€¢ • •
    The receptionist tells me I can go back before I even sit down. That means no trip to the bathroom for me. No battle armor. I take my place on the burgundy love seat, even though it’s hard to feel safe when I’m sitting on a big sea the color of death.
    Dr. Applegate comes into the room. She’s wearing dark-blue pinstriped pants and another crisp white shirt. “How are you today, Allie?” Dr. Applegate asks as she settles into her chair.
    â€œOkay, I guess.”
    â€œYou look tired.”
    How bad must I look for her to say that? I think about making up an excuse, but I don’t. Instead I slump lower in the chair and say, simply, “I am.”
    â€œI want to talk about something important, something we’ve avoided talking about for a long time now.”
    I close my eyes.
    â€œLeah and you had a plan. You made a plan together.”
    I draw my knees up to my chin. I shake my head.
    â€œYou said you had one.”
    At least this time she doesn’t flip through the pages. At least this time she doesn’t pretend she’s trying to remember. “You had a battle plan. You told the police that. You tried to take the pills she’d thrown up. You said you were supposed to go with her.”
    I lay my cheek in my hand. “No.” I shake my head. “That’s not true.”
    â€œWhich part isn’t true?”
    I sniff, wipe my nose with a tissue. “I didn’t want to go with her.”
    Dr. Applegate smiles at me. It’s a small one but genuine. “I believe that, Allie.”
    We sit in silence for three and a half minutes. Then Dr. Applegate gives in. She can’t stand silence; she thinks it’s the enemy, so she slaughters it with this whisper. “We need to talk about the first time you discussed the pact.”
    I shake my head.
    â€œI know this is hard, so don’t answer me. Just think. Try to remember.”
    I don’t have to think. I know. We were at the Cape. We’d gone up with Dad early. Two hours in the car with Dad in the best mood I’d seen him in forever. Leah sat up front, of course. She was wearing the new gold bracelet Dad had given her for being the youngest Robert Frost High School dance