Dad is in prison. He has been for almost five years now, and I hope he despises it. I hope he is going insane without anyone who loves him enough to visit. I hope he regrets every single fucking time he laid his hands on me. He lost everything, but so did I. Does he have nights like these too? Where he can’t stop going over old ground, turningeverything over in his mind? Where he asks himself where he went wrong—and never finds the answer?
I bet he thinks my life is better now that he’s no longer in it. But I wonder if he knows that my life is even worse than it was before. That although he got locked away, his abuse never stopped. It’s always there, ingrained in my mind. It has fucked me up, and I so badly wish he knew that dealing with the psychological damage that he inflicted is a million times harder than putting a Band-Aid on a cut or waiting for a bruise to heal or a fracture to mend.
I’m worried it will never go away. I’m scared I’m never going to be okay, that I’ll always just be this person whose life is in pieces.
Over the sound of my music, I hear Mom’s voice calling up the stairs. I sit up and pull one earphone out to listen to her, but she’s only calling to let me know that they’re about to leave. They’re all heading out for a meal together, but I’m not going. She knows my mood is low, so I’m grateful she isn’t forcing me to join, which is why I know I should at least have the decency to get up and say goodbye.
I force myself out of bed and head for my door, pulling it open, my hood still up and my music still playing. I step outside my room, and the very first person I lay eyes on is Eden. It’s the first time I’ve seen her since the awkward interaction at American Apparel this morning, and I narrow my eyes at her. She’s wearing a pair of sweatpants. Definitely not appropriate attire for a family meal. “Aren’t you going?” I ask.
“Aren’t you?” she throws back, her tone sharp. I take it that no, she isn’t going. Which means I’m going to be stuck here with her. Fuck.
Immediately, I pull my earphone out and push my hood down. I am such a pro at this whole Tyler Bruce act, I can switch into character without even thinking about it. And right now, I need to be him. Not me. “Grounded,” I tell her, only because it sounds way coolerthan telling her I’m feeling depressed as hell. I press my fingers to my temple, feeling the heat on my face. “What’s your excuse?”
“Sick,” she says, though it’s far from convincing. She spins around and continues downstairs, but I follow her, watching the way her hair swings around her shoulders. I don’t know if she just has an attitude or if she doesn’t even realize she’s doing it. “And that’s weird: being grounded didn’t stop you from going to American Apparel,” she adds, glancing over her shoulder at me from beneath her eyelashes. Thankfully, she keeps her voice low.
Who even is this girl? Does she have any idea who she’s dealing with? “Shut the hell up.”
Down in the hall, the rest of this weird, thrown together, poor excuse of a family is waiting by the front door. Mom and Dave are dressed nice, and Jamie and Chase are discreetly elbowing one another in the ribs.
“We won’t be too late,” Mom tells us, and her soft gaze locks on mine. I can see the worry in her eyes, but I’ll be fine. I always am. These low moods never last for more than a few hours. “Don’t even think about leaving,” she adds for good measure, just to reinforce the fact that Iamstill grounded. Though I don’t care.
“Mom, I wouldn’t dare,” I reassure her, crossing my arms over my chest and leaning my shoulder against the wall. Gotta play it cool in front of Eden. First impressions are everything, and right now, she is still forming hers.
“Can we go now?” Chase whines. “I’m hungry.”
“Yes, yes, let’s go,” Dave says. Even for a stepdad, he’s pretty shitty. He doesn’t so much as acknowledge my existence as he opens the front door to let Jamie and Chase run to the car. He only frowns at his daughter and says, “I hope you feel better, Eden.”
Eden gives him a tight smile. She’s lying, but he doesn’t see it. “Bye,”she tells him, and I almost laugh at her bluntness. It’s the first time I’ve seen the two of them interact, but there doesn’t seem to be much warmth there.
“Behave yourselves,” Mom adds quickly, though she must know that the warning isn’t actually going to prevent anything, and then they all finally head out the door, leaving Eden and me in the new silence that has formed in the hall.
I’m staring at her, running my eyes over her body as I try to analyze her. At first, she seemed quiet, almost reserved. But she just spoke back to meandshe’s lying to her dad? Nice. Not so quiet after all.
She angles her head to look at me, and she scrunches her nose when she realizes I’m already staring at her. “Um.”
“Um,” I mimic, raising the pitch of my voice. This girl is new and I have yet to figure out her personality, so I need to test it while also letting her know who exactly Tyler Bruce is. Or at least who hewisheshe was.
“Um,” she says again. It’s clear by the look she’s giving me that she’s not my biggest fan, but that’s okay. I don’t want her to be.
I glance at the clock on the wall behind her. It’s six, and Tiffani wants me over at her place by seven, but I think I may just head over there early to save me from having to stick around here with Eden. It’s already awkward enough. “I’m gonna grab a shower,” I tell her. She is standing between me and the stairs so, putting on my act as best I can, I add, “That’s if you’d get out of my way.”
Slowly, she moves to the side, her eyes still narrowed at me in what appears to be disgust. Whatever. I brush past her, my shoulder hitting hers, and I march back upstairs and into my room. At least I am no longer stuck in my cycle of analyzing my life too much. There is only one thing on my mind now and that’s Tiffani. She’s good at distracting me. Real good. It’s partly why I’m with her in the first place.
I dither around my room for a while, flicking through TV channels and pulling out a fresh pair of jeans and a shirt, and then I jump into the shower. I imagine the water rinsing away all of the shitty thoughts that have been running through my head for the past couple hours, and I feel much better by the time I’m done. I step out feeling ready to perform, ready to bethatTyler Bruce.
I am just pulling on my shirt when I hear footsteps on the stairs. I pause to listen, waiting to see if Eden is only heading to her room or if she’s coming to talk to me, and I’m kind of hoping it’s the latter so that I can try to push her buttons. But I quickly realize that it’s not Eden at all.
“Jesus Christ,” Tiffani says as she barges into my room. Her cheeks are flushed red and she looks mortified. She pushes my door closed behind her, then throws her hands up at me. “I thought you had a girl over!”
I blink at her, confused. I didn’t know she was coming over. Last I knew, I was supposed to be going tohers. “What?”
“That damn stepsister of yours who came into existence out of nowhere just gave me a damn heart attack!” she explains, shaking her head fast. Her hair is tied up into a high ponytail, and it swings rapidly around her shoulders. “Honestly, I was ready to march up here and kill you.”
“Tiffani,” I say firmly, and she stops talking. I step toward her, place my hands on her shoulders, and just look at her. “Calm down. It’s only Eden.”
She is breathing heavily, but she nods. Her blue eyes pierce mine, and she cocks her head to one side. “You’re right. You wouldn’t do that to me, would you? Because I don’t know what I would do if you ever did.”
I think about Naomi last night, but then I remind myself that I was drunk. It doesn’t count. I was drunk when I kissed Ally Jones a couplemonths ago too. And I’m pretty sure I kissed Morgan Young once, but I can’t remember exactly. It only ever happens when I am way too drunk, but still, I don’t want to find out what Tiffaniwoulddo if she knew. She once got me suspended from school for cheating by claiming she wrote my English lit essay all because I forgot her birthday and didn’t make a huge deal of it like she expected me to. And the only reason Mom knows I often smoke weed is because Tiffani told her. Again, all because I forgot her fucking birthday.
