Page 23

Butoh, how wrong I was. As soon as I stepped foot in the kitchen, I could feel their eyes trailing my every move. Elizabeth—my dad’s wife—pulled the twins from their highchairs and gave my dad a kiss on the cheek, saying something too low for me to hear before leaving the room.

After another awkward minute or so, my dad cleared his throat. “Could I speak with you for a moment, Jessica? Please.”

I turned to him with a granola bar halfway to my mouth and leaned back against the counter, giving him a silent yet reluctant go ahead.

He slid some pamphlets out in front of him, spreading them out on the table. I couldn’t see what they were. Probably for some boarding school he planned on sending me off to so he wouldn’t have to see my face anymore.

“Liz and I have been talking, and…” he swallowed, clearing his throat again. “I know you’re not very open to talking with us, and you have every reason to be closed-off and angry, but we think…we think it would be good if you could talk to someone. Someone you might feel comfortable enough opening up to.”

What the hell was he going on about?

“We thought it best to give you some time, but it’s been months now, Jessica, and you still walk through this house with your shields up.”

My fingers tightened around the counter behind me.Iwas the one with a problem?

“You need to talk to someone about your mother.”

My heart was racing, pumping blood through my veins in overdrive. What the hell would he know about what I needed?

“I—we had no idea things had gotten so bad for the both of you. Your mom, she never—”

Fuck that; andfuckhim. I threw my granola bar onto the counter, taking an anger-fueled step towards him. “How in the hellwouldyou know?” I cut him off. “Did you ever call? Did you ever eventryto come see me? No! You didn’t! You don’t know shit about how bad it got! And you know what? That’sfine. But you don’t get to act like you give a shit now!” I yelled that last sentence so loud my voice went hoarse by the end of it.

Because seriously,this was bullshit!

“Jessica,” he pleaded. “I want nothing more than to explain to you—”

“Fuck your explanations!”

He didn’t even flinch at my words, at how loud they’d come flying out of my mouth. “We have to make the best of this situation,” he continued in vain. I wasn't hearing any of it. I didn’t think it was possible to be that angry, yet there I was, ready to break everything in that goddamn house of his.

I rubbed at the ache in my chest. What had he said? Make the best of thissituation?

“That’s not what I meant,” he cut in, somehow reading my mind.

“I don’t care what you meant,” I said through clenched teeth, walking straight out of that kitchen and through the front door, slamming it as hard as I could behind me.

I only made it to the curb out front before I almost lost my shit. I was pissed, livid. At myself more than anything. Because I felt like I might cry, but screw that, and screw them, andscrew everything!

I sat down on the curb, taking deep breaths, squeezing my knees against my chest, rocking back and forth.

I got it. My mom was fucked up. She loved drugs more than she loved anything or anyone else. She didn’t give a shit about life. She didn’t give a shit about herself. And she sure as hell didn’t give a shit about me.

That was it. End of story. I didn’t need a therapist to tell me that.

I pulled my phone from my back pocket and held it in front of me, my finger lingering above the screen, quickly realizing that there was no one I could really call. No one Iwantedto call.

I dialed Sara anyway. It rang and rang and rang. Then went to voicemail, twice.

I dialed Jaymes, and he picked up on the third ring, but I could barely hear him through the noise on his end of the line. “Jess?!” he yelled into the phone.

“Yeah,” I said. “Hey Jaymes, could you—”

“Hey, Jess! I can barely hear you! Let me call you later!” and the line went dead.

And there it was. My whole two friends.

I nudged the small rocks in the street around with my toes for all of three seconds before thinking,screw it, and dialing Greyson.