“It’s only Saturday,” I point out. “Don’t you have a bar to hang out at or something?”
She snorts. “Since when did you become such a smartass?”
I don’t bother answering her. Instead, I head to the tiny kitchen and crack open the fridge, peering inside. It’s depressing as hell in there. Leftover Chinese takeout from however long ago and mostly empty bottles of catsup,mustard, mayo, and grape jelly line the door. There’s a gallon carton of milk inside, but maybe a sip of it is left and judging by the expiration date printed on there, it’s also many days too old.
There are two sodas and a crumpled, half-empty twelve-pack box inside, too. Of course. Heaven forbid Mom goes without her Bud Light.
I vow first thing tomorrow morning, I’ll go grocery shopping with the money I made from my girlfriend gig, so we’ll have real food in the house. I know Owen’s not done growing. He needs to eat and properly, not a bunch of junk shit and fast food. We’ll have one last night of cheesy pepperoni pizza, but come tomorrow we’re eating right.
“I heard you lost your job,” I call to my mother as I grab a soda and crack it open. The cold surge of caffeine and sugar slides easily down my throat and I shut the refrigerator door to find my mom leaning against the kitchen counter, her near-empty beer can hanging from her fingertips.
“Owen told you, huh?” She shakes her head. “It’s such bullshit, what they said.”
“What did they say?”Great. Sounds like it’s her fault she lost her job.
“A customer supposedly complained that when I helped him, my breath smelled like beer.” She toasts me with her can, then slugs the rest of the beer back. Ironic, much? “Imean, I stayed up late the night before drinking with Larry, so I figure it was a leftover buzz, you know? I wasn’t really drunk. I was fine.”
I just look at her as I sip from my soda can. My life kinda sucks, my mom is completely irresponsible, but I have nothing on Drew.
Nothing.
“Where’s Larry?” When she looks at me, I raise my eyebrows. “Your new boyfriend, right?”
“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “We got in a huge fight and he dropped me off here not even an hour ago. We were supposed to go out tonight.”
God, I really don’t want her here. I wish she would go out and leave me alone, leave me with my thoughts. Owen would come back for pizza, but I want to hang out with him. “Maybe you should call Larry and tell him you’re sorry.”
“Why do you think it’s my fault?”
Because it always is?“Maybe you should take the initiative and apologize even if it’s not your fault.” Now it’s my turn to shrug.
Mom taps her lips with her index finger, pulling her cell phone out of her pocket. “Not a bad idea. I’m calling him.”
She walks back into her bedroom, her phone to her ear. “Hey, baby. It’s me,” I hear her say as she slowly closes the door.
I remain where I’m standing long after she’s gone. Thinking of Drew. Where is he, what is he doing? Is he okay? I’m sick with worry and I hate feeling this way. I wish he hadn’t shut me out. I wish he would let me in.
But wishes are for fools.
Drew
After I drop Fable off at her place, I drive around town for an hour, taking in the familiar, comforting sights. This small town where I’ve spent the last three years feels far more like home than the place I grew up ever will.
Of course, my hometown is tainted mostly with bad memories, save those few days with Fable.
I drive past the campus, the stadium where I spend the majority of my time, and it’s all pretty much abandoned. I drive through downtown, past the shops, the corner cafés and the Starbucks, slowing some as I drive past La Salle’s, which looks quiet. Considering it’s not even six o’clock, that’s no surprise. Plus the students aren’t really back in town yet. That’ll all happen tomorrow.
The rain still falls steadily and when I realize I’ve been driving for well over an hour with no destination in mind, I finally end up at my apartment building. It’s on the opposite side of town from Fable’s; I live in the newer part, thebetterpart. Where the neighborhoods are quiet and theyards are perfect. Not like the crowded, older neighborhoods that are overrun with young, loud college students since the rents are so cheap. I bet my apartment is twice the size of hers, and I only have one bedroom. Shit, I’m the only one living there, while she has her mom and her brother, all three of them trying their best to keep it together…
I hammer my fist against the steering wheel once. Then again, ignoring the pain that radiates across my knuckles, then shoots through my hand. My coach would kill me if he saw me right now, trying to fuck up my throwing hand. Imagining his anger makes me hit the steering wheel yet again, and my fist is throbbing by the third punch.
But the pain feels good. Raw and real, reminding me of who I am,whatI am. My life looks easy, so damn easy. Everything I’ve ever wanted has been handed to me on a silver platter. I’m a spoiled-as-hell rich kid who should be living the life. Bragging to my so-called friends, living high in my huge apartment, strutting around campus with a girl under each arm because I’m the one they call the hero, who’s saved our football team these last two seasons.
My world…is a world of shit. What Adele confessed has left me in fucking shock. I drove pretty much the entire way home without saying a word. Neither did Fable. I feel like shit for acting like that, but what could I do? Make small talk with her, chat about the weather and ourfavorite music and oh, the fact that my stepmom just told me my sister really wasn’t my sister at all, but mydaughter?
My life is a total soap opera. I don’t know how to handle it. I don’t know if I believe Adele. She’s lied before. She always lies. Maybe she was trying to shock me. Disgust my girlfriend enough to drive her away. My girl is more stubborn than that.
Besides, I know exactly how to drive her away and tune her out. I’ve become a pro at it these last few days.
