We brainstorm arguments together, coming up with a list of ideas for analysis. Anna latches on to one right away, so I delete that one from my list, and work on formulating my own thesis. It’s hard to focus, though. Anna is typing away, clearly having no problem writing her outline. The sound blends with the rain pouring down outside, and my phone vibrates, pulling my attention. For a moment I wonder if it’s Forrest, but it’s not.
Was scrolling through old Facebook photos and found this,Dad says.
It’s the three of us at Mom’s family Christmas, six months before they told me they were getting divorced. In the photo, we’re all wearing matching reindeer sweaters, a gift from Grandma that year; I’m smiling, and so is Mom, but with her lips closed. Dad is in the middle with his arms around us, one hand making bunny ears over Mom’s head.
I remember the day as soon as I see our faces. It’s not obvious in the photo, except for his red nose and cheeks, but Dad was drunk, and had been since we’d woken up that morning. The day started with presents at our place while he sipped spiked coffee; he’d spent too much money oneverything, and I could tell Mom was angry even though she tried to hide it. When it was time to go, I waited in the car for fifteen minutes while they fought over whether Dad was sober enough to drive. Eventually, he threw the keys at Mom’s feet and got into the passenger seat, slamming the door hard enough to rattle the whole car.
Miss Christmases with you,he says.We gotta take a new photo without your mom. I’m not good enough with Photoshop to take her out.
And a goofy-face emoji. Like he’s joking. Let’s erase Mom from the photo! Won’t that be funny!
I text him back, before I can think:Why would you Photoshop her out? You’re the one who broke up our family.
My heart is pounding; I can’t believe I just said that.
The response is swift.Are you fucking kidding me? It’s just a joke. I should never have had you. You’re the reason I started drinking in the first place.
“Sidney?”
I look up at Anna, then down at my phone. There’s nothing there, just Dad’s initial text, and the photo. I didn’t reply. It was an anxiety movie. None of it actually happened.
It felt so real, though. My hands are shaking, chest fluttering, pressure rising behind my eyes. I shift my gaze back to Anna.
“You OK?” She frowns. “You seem ...upset.”
“I’m ...I’m fine.” I set my phone face down on the table and scrub my hands against my face. “It’s just ...Dad stuff. Anxiety.”
She clicks her tongue. “Oh yeah. I feel that. Did you talk to your mom about a diagnosis yet?”
I wrinkle my nose. “No. I just ...last year sucked, and I don’t want to give her another reason to do her Helicopter Mom thing.”
Anna watches me, her mouth screwed up in a skeptical grimace.
“I’m fine! Really. It’s not that bad.”
“OK,” she says, but I can’t tell if she’s convinced.
The doorbell rings then and her face lights up. “They’re here!”
I look at my laptop screen as she heads to the front door to let in Jayden and Makayla. I have a thesis formed, sort of. It needs to be fleshed out. But it’s fine. It’s good enough for now. I can finish my outline later this weekend.
“Sidneeeeeeeeeeey!” Jayden gallops into the room, wrapping his arms around me, still in my chair.
“Hello to you too,” I say into his elbow. He pulls back and I straighten my glasses, grinning up at him.
“What are we watching tonight?” Makayla asks. “Can we play Betrayal first?”
““Absolutely,” Anna and I say at the same time, and high-five each other. Betrayal at House on the Hill, or Betrayal for short, is one of our favorite board games, a horror-themed one where you play as different characters trying to navigate a haunted mansion. One player turns rogue eventually, and then you have to fight the monster in your midst to get out alive. It’s just the right amount of rules and chance, with a touch of role-playing.
“’Tis the season,” Jayden says, wiggling his eyebrows at us, and zooms ahead down the stairs into the basement.
“A wild teenager appears!” I hear Anna’s dad say, and when the rest of us reach the basement, he widens his eyes.“Severalwild teenagers!”
“You’re sooooo corny,” Anna says.
“I’m corny but I’m free,” he says cheerfully, and vacates the couch with an elaborate bow. “Enjoy your coven meeting.”
“We will!” Makayla says as he leaves, then turns to us. “We should totally form a coven, though.”
