Broken and Screwed

I grasped her hand in mine and squeezed it tight.

Then Angie groaned. “Oh hell. Look at us. We both look like blathering idiots. Where’s that passive aggressive bitch Sarah Shastaine at a moment like this? She’d wet herself, I swear.”

Some laughter ripped out of me. My eyes went wide, but then I couldn’t stop laughing. And Angie joined in. Both of us were giggling so much, we were drawing attention. It wasn’t long until Justin found his way over to us. A perplexed look was on his face as he knelt and slung Angie’s bag over his shoulder. “You guys aren’t high, are you?”

Angie snorted and swatted at his shoulder.

We laughed harder at that.

Then he shook his head and sighed. “Okay. I’ll see you at the car, honey.”

She nodded. Both of us were overcome with laughter and blinded by tears as well. After awhile, another minute of laughing; it hurt to stop, but we needed to. Angie sighed out loud. “Oh, my word. That felt good, painful but good.”

I nodded, grinning like an idiot.

“Okay.” She hugged me once more and took a breath. “I’ll see you later. Call me if you’re bored and want to get out of the house tomorrow. Otherwise, there’s a party Friday. We’ll pick you up at six for that.”

“What—no—”

But it didn’t matter. Angie gave me another wave and headed across the parking lot for Justin’s truck. As she rushed him and threw her arms around his shoulders, pain seared inside of my chest. I wanted that. They were happy. They were in love. I wanted that, but I’d never get it. Another flare of pain surged through me, but I stopped it. I put it on hold and pushed everything down inside of me. Self pity wouldn’t get me anywhere, and right now, I needed to survive.

And then I got into my car and headed home to an empty house.

When I got home, I learned from a note that my dad went to pick up my mom from the hospital and they were going straight to the airport from there. And then I got another surprise. They would be gone for over two weeks. Apparently, my mother needed a vacation; it was a long awaited one for the both of them and they would see me when they returned. A last note told me not to get in trouble. I flicked the note away after I read that. Trouble? What trouble would they even care about now?

Then I remembered Angie’s hug and her words. ‘I just feel that you’re hurting a lot more than you let on and it kills me.’ When the same tears came to the surface, I brushed them away and headed to my room. It wasn’t near evening, but I changed into my pajamas and curled underneath my covers. At this point, I didn’t know what was worse. Having my mom in the house when I knew she was suffering like the rest of us, or not having anyone in the home? Or, I gulped, being alone in the house when I felt Ethan’s presence? Sometimes it was so overwhelming I could only gasp for breathe and hold onto where I was at the moment. Sometimes I was in bed. Sometimes I was at the kitchen table, gripping the table in front of me. When I was on the couch, I hugged the cushion sewn into the couch. By the time it would leave me, I was so shaken and pale that I would look like a ghost if anyone saw me.

I always wanted to call Jesse, but I never did. I did now, though. I gave in, but hung up immediately. No good would come from hearing his voice. Only pain.

I sighed.

Then I stuffed it down again. I’d been doing it for over a year.

And with that last thought, I took a deep breath and then put a movie in. It was after my fourth one when the doorbell rang, my cell phone buzzed an alert, and my parents’ landline rang. I jumped and hoped I hadn’t crapped my pants. I threw back the covers and hurried downstairs. The phone kept ringing, so I grabbed that one first.

“Hello?”

“It’s me.” Angie sounded out of breath.

The doorbell went again.

“Someone’s at the door. I’ll call you back in a second.”

“It’s me. I’m freezing my ass off.”

“Oh—” I hung up and went to the door. As I swung it open, a burst of cold air blasted me. Angie and Justin were both shivering and dashed inside. I was pushed against the wall, but when I followed them into the living room, I couldn’t hold back a smile. Angie dove for the blankets and wrapped one around her before she hurled herself on the couch. Justin gave me a slight wave as he was stomping his feet up and down and shaking his hands.

“What are you guys doing here?”

Angie rolled to her back on the couch and grinned up at me. She was cocooned like a butterfly. “Marissa called. She found another good deal. Pack your bags. Our plane leaves for Vegas in three hours.”

“What? No.”

“Come on.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

I opened my mouth, a lame excuse on the tip of my tongue, when Angie rolled her eyes and struggled to sit up. Then she made a show of looking around. I closed my mouth. I already knew where this was going. I beat her to it. “It’s date night.”

She snorted. “Yeah, right. No one’s here.”

“I told you. Date night. They’re allowed.”

Her eyes narrowed. “When are they coming back?”

“Tonight.”

“Fine.” There was movement under her blanket and I guessed it was her arms crossing over her chest. “Then we’ll stay and wish them Happy Thanksgiving.”

Now my eyes narrowed. I said through gritted teeth, “They’re coming back tomorrow, but I’m not supposed to tell anybody that.” ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">