Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 97882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
“You’ve barely touched your dinner,” Mary commented with a pout.
“Yeah, well, I’m not hungry,” I said to no one in particular.
I didn’t dare look at my father, not when I knew the disappointment I’d see waiting for me if I did. I knew the look well, the one that said he wished it was his other daughter who survived instead of me.
“I’m sorry,” I said softly to Mary. “Dinner was great. I really appreciate it. I’m just… tired.”
She nodded like she understood, giving me a look that said we could talk later.
She’d be disappointed to find that I didn’t want to talk to anyone.
I forced myself to smile at my father, because no matter how irritated I was, I knew how precious life was, how quickly it could go. “I really am just tired,” I reiterated, because I knew the way he was looking at me, he didn’t believe the lie I’d fed Mary.
Thankfully, he still held enough compassion for me that he nodded like he did. He stood, opening his arms, and I slipped into them for a brief hug.
“Love you, Dad. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Love you, too. Your mom wanted me to tell you hello, by the way. She’s going to call later this week. Things have just been crazy with planning the church banquet. You know how into all that she gets.”
I rolled my eyes at the lie, because pretending I was indifferent hurt less than admitting how much that lie really hurt. Mom had no intention of calling me. She hadn’t since we left.
“Okay,” I said.
When he released me, I drained the last bit of the wine in my glass before retreating up the stairs and to my room.
I wanted to slam my door, to throw a tantrum like I was allowed to when I was a pre-teen. Instead, I closed it with a quiet snick that seemed to echo through the empty room before flopping face-first onto my bed and letting out a strangled scream into my pillow.
For a while, I just laid there, listening to the muffled voices downstairs until I heard the distinct sound of the front door opening and closing. Mary knocked on my door a moment later, her voice soft as she told me he was gone.
I didn’t respond.
“You okay, roomie?” she asked after a moment.
When I didn’t reply, I heard a long sigh leave her.
“I’m going to eat an edible and watch old episodes of Schitt’s Creek. Invitation is open.”
Then, she was gone.
I eventually rolled onto my back, watching as the last bit of sunlight faded from my room. I thought of Abby, of my parents, of what things might have been like if Abby were still here.
If I hadn’t…
I couldn’t even finish the thought before emotion gripped me by the throat, and I closed my eyes, willing myself to just go numb. Eventually, I snuck back downstairs and quietly topped off my wine glass. I didn’t care that I’d already had two. I wanted another.
I took it back up to my room and drank it too quickly before I flopped back on my bed. The minutes ticked by with me staring at the ceiling, and just about the time I convinced myself I should shower and go to bed, I heard it.
Music.
It was muffled, but the base beat thick through the house, rattling my bed frame a bit. I frowned, leaning up on my elbows before I rolled off my bed and padded over to my window.
Holden’s lawn was covered with people.
The front door was wide open, students ambling in and out of it with plastic cups in their hands. Music blasted, couples made out on the porch, and a group of guys dragged a large folding table into the back yard, careful not to step on any flowers, fruits, or vegetables.
I chewed my lip, watching, and then for reasons unbeknownst to me, I bolted out of my room and shoved into Mary’s without knocking.
“Hey!” she scolded, holding up the shirt she’d just taken off to cover her knockers.
But I didn’t turn around, didn’t leave, didn’t do anything for fear that one second of hesitation would make me change my mind.
“Are you tired?”
She was still frowning at me, like I was a crazy person on the verge of a breakdown. “Not really?” she answered, almost more of a question than a certainty.
I nodded, folding my arms before I glanced down the hall at my room, and then back at my roommate.
“How do you feel about making an appearance at the Pit?”
Holden
I was three sheets to the wind when she walked in.
It was a combination of things that afforded me the opportunity to actually get drunk. One was that my room was right upstairs, though that had never encouraged me before tonight. Two was that I didn’t have to practice tomorrow, because I couldn’t practice, because I couldn’t play at all. And three was because I’d been riled up since my altercation with Kyle in the locker room earlier that afternoon.