Free Shelter Me by Mina Bennett

she hurts. It would mean the world to her."
    "She hates it when people treat her like she's sick," I retorted.
    "But acting like she's not doesn't change reality." No longer on the verge of tears, my mom just looked angry. I knew she was really angry at the world, not at me. Angry at what happened. Angry at God, even. But that didn't make this any easier. "I can't do this by myself."
    "I don't know what you want me to do."  
    "I'm sorry," she said, after a pause. She was sagging a little, the exhaustion finally kicking in. "Jacob, I'm sorry. I know this isn't easy on you either. But you have to show Sara a little more concern. She might pretend that she hates it, and maybe there's part of her that does, but she needs you right now. Marissa isn't your concern. She's engaged to Mark, and I know - Jacob, listen." I was staring at the floor now, which I guess she took as inattention, but I was just embarrassed. "I know it's not easy. But you need to move on from that girl."
    "I don't know what you're talking about," I muttered.
    "Okay," said my mom, standing up and letting out a heavy sigh. "But please try to talk to Sara tonight."
    "I will," I said. "I promise."
    She hesitated for a moment, searching for the right words. "I know you're an adult now," she said. "I know I can't stop you from taking a job offer, if you want to. But I just want you to be happy, Jacob. That's all. I can't see you being happy like that. You've always been so good with your hands, with those bikes - I wish you'd pursue that."
    "I'm going to," I said. "I want to. But right now, I just need something to get me out of the house a little bit. Get some money saved up. It's not going to be the perfect job right now, but I've got to start somewhere."
    "All right," my mom said, quietly. "Okay. I just don't want to see you give up what makes you happy"
    "I promise I won't."
    And with that, she dropped a kiss on the top of my head, and left.

    ***
    A few hours later, I tapped cautiously at Sara's door.
    "What?" she responded, finally.
    "Can I come in?"
    There was a long silence.
    "I don't know, can you?"
    Sighing, I opened her door and stepped inside. Sara was sitting at her computer, clicking away intently on some kind of multiplayer world-building game that occupied most of her time these days.
    "Hey," I said, sitting down carefully on the edge of her bed. My feet sunk into the protective padding that lined the floor around it. "How are you feeling?"
    She made a noncommittal noise, never taking her eyes away from the screen for even a second.
    These days, it was sometimes hard to separate her disorder from typical teenage behavior. But she'd always been like this. I knew she wasn't really sullen or resentful; it was just how she dealt with the world. People who didn't know her very well couldn't see it, but I could. The same defect in her brain that gave her the seizures also made it hard for her to cope with things that everyone else just took in stride.
    Really, I couldn't imagine dealing with seizures even if everything else was perfect. I had no idea how she did it. But that didn't make her any easier to talk to.
    As usual, I struggled to come up with a topic of conversation. I couldn't talk to her about Brandon's amusing college application struggles, because that would just remind her that her medical bills were the reason neither one of us would ever go. If I brought up biking, that would just be cruel. I couldn't talk to her about her games, because I didn't understand them.  
    Well, out of all the possibilities, at least the third one probably wouldn't upset her.
    "Raiding?" I asked, using one of the few terms I'd picked up from her. She didn't get talkative often, but when she did, she could go on about her gaming adventures for hours.
    She nodded.
    "Stupid," she muttered, after a moment of silence. "Ever since they found out I'm a girl, they think I can't tank. Showed them."
    I smiled. Even with only a vague understanding of what she was talking