Justin

With each day that passes, I start to feel better and stronger. I can't believe it's already been over a month since I was in the ICU at BC Children's Hospital.

But what I really can't believe is that there's been no abnormal activity in my brain. Some days I find myself waiting for that moment of fear to hit me square in the gut, but it never comes. It's wonderous, really, because it's been so long since I had a life without seizures. It's a foreign feeling, but I love it. I'd be an idiot if I didn't.

However, I'm still wary about it. The doctors said it takes three months for the bone to fuse back together and up to a year for my brain to heal. Which is why I don't want to start celebrating just yet just in case I amp it up, only to be severely disappointed. That said, I can't stop myself from feeling slightly excited and content that over three months have passed and I've been free of the seizures. I can't believe it's June already and in two weeks, Addie, me, and the rest of us are graduating from high school. It's crazy. It's crazy that I have a group of friends, that I don't have to worry as much as I did, that I have a girlfriend that doesn't care about my past.

Speaking of Addie...

She's at my house today, helping me figure out a solution to Chris's problem. We haven't been able to find much about terminating a court order, but what we have found are lots of websites about teenagers that have dealt with something similar.

"Justin," Addie says, looking up from her laptop that's balanced on one knee. "I don't think the court system can do much with Chris now being thirteen. Though I think kids have a mind of their own since the moment they can walk and talk, the websites say Chris should be allowed to make decisions for himself now no matter what. Also, if we're getting technical, the court order was for your mom – not Chris. If Chris refuses to go and voices that he wants a permanent home, they can't do anything and they certainly can't blame your mom."

I look up from my notebook. We've been at this for hours and I have filled up about ten pages with information that could possibly help Chris. But those pages are mainly descriptions from my point of view about what happened and are providing reasons as to why my father should have nothing to do with Chris just in case we have to take this to court. It was hard to write, but with Addie's help, I managed to get it down onto paper. I still find my writing does no justice to the incident, but it's the best I can do.

"Do we maybe just tell Chris to voice his opinion? Take a stand?" Addie asks.

I shake my head. "Chris would never do that. Poor kid's terrified of our father. Can't blame him, though. If I hadn't been there, I don't know what would have happened."

Addie lifts her pencil to her mouth and begins to chew on the eraser. "Okay, what if we helped Chris write something and he read it out? Maybe being prepared would help?"

I rub the back of my neck. It's difficult to say and I don't want to drag Chris into this.

As if Addie can read my mind, she says, "He's going to have to deal with it anyway, Justin. Maybe we should get his input."

I sigh, reaching up to rub my temples. I'm tired of this. I'm tired of all the drama my father causes. There are so many options he could have gone with, yet he chose the one that had to affect my mom, Chris, and I the most. Jackass.

"Chris!" I shout.

"Yeah?" he calls from the kitchen.

"Can you come here for a sec, bud?"

Sure enough, I hear the legs of a chair scrape against the tile and he's in the living room in a matter of seconds. "What?" he asks.

"Why don't you sit down?" Addie suggests, setting her laptop down on the coffee table and sliding over on the couch to make room.

Chris eyes us cautiously but sits down.

I get up and sit on the edge of the coffee table. I don't think this is the kind of conversation I can have with my younger brother while sitting on the floor. Taking a deep breath, I look him directly in the eye. "You don't want to stay with our father anymore, right?"

The look of hurt in his eyes is almost instantaneous. I know I haven't said anything to offend him, it's just this whole situation upsets him, which is nothing to be ashamed of. Everything we've been through sucks. Despite the look of hurt, Chris still shakes his head. "I want to stay with you and Mom." He looks at the floor. "Whenever I go, I miss you guys too much." He glances at Addie. "All of you."

"Even Jake and Alex?" Addie asks, wrinkling her nose.

Chris laughs. "Even them – they know a lot about soccer even though they play hockey."

"Okay," I nod. "Well, Addie and I have been trying to figure out a loophole in all this and so far we haven't found much. No – don't give me that look. Just because we haven't found much doesn't mean our words mean nothing." I stop talking. For so long, our words really have meant nothing. The court didn't take Chris and me into consideration when everything went down nor did those family members that decided to support our father.

This – this is our chance to make a difference.

"You're thirteen now, Chris," Addie continues for me. She points at her laptop screen, which Chris leans forward to read. "According to everything I've read, it's your decision now. And, on top of that, the court order was for your mom to let you go live fifty-fifty with your dad. The court order was not directed at you. So, I have a feeling that if you voice your opinion, they won't be able to do anything about it now."

Chris looks almost nauseous as he takes this all in. "So...I have to talk to him?" he asks.

Addie nods her head, giving him a sympathetic look.

Chris shifts his gaze to me. "I don't want to talk to him. He gets upset when I bring up what happened."

I glance at Addie for help. I told her this was going to be his reaction. He's terrified.

Addie turns to face Chris. "Chris," she says. "I know you don't want to do this, but it's something that needs to be done if you don't want to go over there anymore. It's appalling that you should have to make the initial move. I think your father should have been banned from seeing either of you or you should have at least been given a choice. From everything I've read, you're considered to have a mind of your own. Justin and I will help you write something. Heck, I'll even come with you if you want someone there to support you."

The next few sentences of Addie's spiel are incoherent to me. I want to think she's just saying that to persuade Chris into an agreement, but I can see the fire in her eyes and hear the passion in her voice. She's serious. She really would go to Cache Creek with Chris and make sure he's heard by our father.

"So," Addie continues. "What do you say? Justin and I will help you in every way we can – we swear."

Chris stares at a water stain on the coffee table as he gnaws on his bottom lip, lost in deep thought. I hate putting the kid through this, but Addie's right – it's the only way we're going to be able to do something.

"If my words aren't enough," Addie adds, "I could call Uncle Hart and you could talk to him. He knows what it's like to have an abusive father and I think he could help you figure something out better than I can."

My younger brother looks at Addie. "Justin didn't want to go through with surgery," he starts, "but he still did it and now it's been more than three months since he's had a seizure." He glances at me, and I'm suddenly feeling all choked-up. "If he can do that, then I can, too. But...I'm going to need your help. And I want to talk to your uncle."

Addie smiles and gives my brother a hug while I sit and stare at Chris. What he's said...Wow. It makes my heart hurt in a good way.

"Great," Addie says, getting up. "I'm going to get a glass of water and then we can start. It's best we get this going as soon as possible. I'll be right back."

With Chris and I left alone in the living room together, I'm not sure what to do. I want to say that I'm proud of him. So proud. Like he has no freaking idea.

"Chris," I say softly.

"Yeah?" he asks, looking up from his hands.

"I, um, I'm proud of you – what you're doing."

He shrugs. "We need to put an end to this somehow, right? We've been through enough."

"I couldn't agree more," I reply, shaking my head.

We've been betrayed, walked on, ignored. We've faced things kids should never have to face at our ages. But you know what? We're like the fucking Sword of Gryffindor – we take in what makes us stronger. And all this pain, all these demons we've faced have only made us stronger; united us. We've proven people wrong and defied their expectations. Consider it a polite way of telling the rest of them to fuck off. No one can determine what happens in my family except us.

Reaching over, I grab my brother and pull him into a hug.

"Don't punch me for getting mushy," I mutter, "but I love you, bro."

Chris hugs me back, "Love you, too, Justin."

By the time I pull away, I've shed a couple tears. And I'm not ashamed of them.

"We're gonna get through, this, bud," I say as Addie steps back into the living room. I look up at her face. She's got a small smile on her face, one that's full of hope and positivity. "We're going to make it."