“I couldn’t sleep,” I whisper. He just pulls me closer and places a soft kiss on the side of my neck.
“It’s ok, baby, I’m here. Just rest,” he whispers. It’s almost like he has some kind of power over me, because a few minutes later, my eyes get heavy and I actually fall asleep.
19
SLOANE
Every year for as long as I can remember, on the Fourth of July, we’ve had a BBQ with both families. I haven’t attended the last couple of years, and I’m starting to remember why.It’s a small gathering; just Briar, Chanel, my two siblings, Beckett, me, Mocha, and Lottie’s current significant other. Mason, Beckett’s son, would usually be here as well, but he’s still stationed in Afghanistan.
Lottie and her boyfriend sit with Chanel on the patio next to the pool, chatting it up like there’s no place they’d rather be.Briar hasn’t spoken three words to me since they showed up at the house.Kaden, Briar, and Beckett all sit around the grill while the food cooks.
Kaden mostly just stands there talking to Beckett, ignoring Briar, which gives me the slightest satisfaction that I can’t really explain.
What does hurt is that no one asks how I’ve been. If I’d prefer a hot dog or a burger. How I’ve adjusted to living with Beckett, or anything at all that would suggest that they even know that I’m here. They just ignore me like I don’t exist.
It hurts.
When dinner’s done, I grab a little bit of food and sit by myself at the end of the table so I can eat. I keep to myself, trying not to cry in front of everyone.You’d think I’d be used to it, but apparently not.
“So, Sloane, how’s your social media stuff going?” Chanel asks. I smile, glad that someone cares enough to ask.
“It’s good, I’ve gott—” Lottie cuts me off before I can even finish my sentence.
“Braxton does all of the social media for his family’s company. The account has like two thousand followers because of him,” she brags, and the guy gives a nod.Just like that, all the attention shifts towards Braxton and what kind of company his family has.
One question, and half a reply. That’s all I get.
My head dips, and my shoulders slump, my heart broken all over again. I hate this, I hate feeling this way.
Why does this still hurt?This is how it’s been my entire life.
After that, I mostly just push my food around my plate. When I’m done, I set my plate on the ground and let Mocha clean up the crumbs.
He’s the only one who’s given me any kind of attention. He’s sat by my side the whole time. He even chose to stay with me when Lottie tried to bribe him with food.
It’s sad that he’s given me more love in the time I’ve had him than I’ve received from most of these people my entire life.
After dinner, I help clean up.
Mocha and I go inside to get a blanket. I could stay in here for the rest of the night, and no one would even notice I was gone.
I consider it.
It would be nice to just hide in here, curl up on Mocha, and cry. But I’m better than that.
“Come on, little buddy,” I mumble, picking him up and a blanket. On my way back outside, I steal a beer from the fridge.
It’s dark out, and all the patio lights that I’d decorated with are dimmed.
Everyone chats away, not even acknowledging me as I make my way down to the lawn, walking down the steps to the bottom section of the yard.
I go to the farthest corner away from anyone else. I know that I could try and make myself a part of the conversation,but what was the point if they didn’t even want me here, anyway?
“Go potty,” I say to Mocha. I set him down and set up the blanket. It’s dark, and the fireworks should be starting soon.
I twist the cap off my drink and take a long swig. I cringe slightly at the taste, but shrug.
I pull my hoodie tighter around myself as I sit down on the blanket.
