“I’m not here to make friends.”
“I get that, but sometimes having friends saves your life. We don’t know when we’re going to find ourselves in situations we need help.”
Narrowing her eyes, she tells me, “I’ve always looked out for myself.”
“In the few days you’ve been here, I’ve already worked you out. My advice, lose the bitch. It won’t get you far.”
Her eyes, once again, narrow, and she turns her back, walking back into clubhouse.
Opening and closing my pruning sheers, I keep my eyes on the back door long after she has disappeared inside. Luca was right, there is something about her that isn’t quite right.
12
Ford
Iplace a slice of cheese on the bread and slap another slice of bread on top. Cutting the sandwich in half, I toss one half in the trash and place the remaining half on a plate. I grab a bottle of water from the fridge and pour three quarters of it down the sink. I take the half-meal up to Effie. It occurs to me I should feel some level of bad, but I don’t. She didn’t, why the fuck should I.
She scrambles onto her knees when I place the plate on the floor, along with the bottle of water. She snatches the pitiful sandwich and shoves half of it in her mouth. Instead of feeling bad, flashes of myself eating like a pig resurface. I spent hours dreaming of burgers and meals that consisted of more than a few bites. She gave me enough to keep me alive, now she’s finding out how that shit felt.
“You can’t keep doing this to me,” she says around a mouthful of food.
I glare at her but say nothing. I lock up behind me when I leave and lean against the door.
She’s on her way to experiencing what I went through, though she’ll never know what it’s like to get a kicking every so often.ThatI have saved her from.
The walls begin to close in around me. Pulling at my collar, it does nothing to help me breathe.
I jog down the stairs, collecting Princess’s leash from the hook at the bottom of the stairs as I go.
The dog is on me before I have to call him and I slip the leash around his neck.
“Taking the dog for a walk,” I holler on my way out.
The late afternoon sun offers no warmth, and I yank my hood up and shove my free hand in my pocket.
The longer I walk, the clearer my mind becomes, and the easier it is to breathe. Especially when I end up at my mom’s house and let myself in.
“You should keep your door locked when you’re here on your own,” I tell her as I make my way into the kitchen.
The bags under her eyes aren’t so heavy today and her hair is clean and shines once again.
“Is there a reason I need to have it locked?”
“You never know what could happen.”
Frowning, she murmurs, “No, I suppose I don’t.”
She eyes the dog warily and I promise her, “He’s okay. Give him anything to eat and he’ll be your friend for life.”
“Sounds like having a son.”
I laugh and a tear rolls from her eye. “What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Nothing, I just… I still can’t believe you’re really here. It’s like nothing happened.”
If only she lived in my head, I wish I could get over it and feel like nothing has happened.
She wipes her eyes and goes on to ask, “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company today?”
