Chapter 37
Amelia
Iget home after midnight. Crawford ordered a car for me after I refused to have Melvin drop me at home. I hope there will never come a day when either of them sees my home for real.
As soon as I open the door, the smell hits me, and I stop, dreading what I’m going to find when I step into the living room.
Keeping my movements as quiet as possible, I push the door open, hearing the clink of a bottle as I do. My dad is passed out on the couch, with my mom on the chair beside him.
Immediately, my thoughts move to Annabelle, and I skirt around them, ignoring the mess, hitching up my dress and heading upstairs.
I knock very quietly at the door. I know she’ll be awake; neither of us can ever sleep when my parents act like this.
“Annie? It’s me,” I say softly, and after a long pause, the door opens and Annabelle’s frightened eyes meet mine.
“Oh, thank God. I thought it was Dad.”
I slip inside. Annabelle’s room is usually spotless, but my stomach lurches as I see plates and cups strewn everywhere. That isn’t like her at all, and there’s an odd smell in the room. I glance at her warily.
“Did you throw up?” I ask.
She shakes her head quickly and points at one of the plates.
“Sorry, I haven’t had a chance to clean up in here.”
“That’s alright,” I say as she hobbles slowly to the bed. Her movements are jerkier than usual, and as she lowers onto the mattress, she lets out a sigh that breaks my heart. No one should get that tired just from crossing a room.
“How was the party?” she asks.
“Good,” I say, unable to focus on anything but her. “What happened tonight?”
“Oh, they got into a fight. Mom did something to piss him off and Dad started screaming at her. I went down to check on her, and they both yelled at me. I think…” she trails off.
“What?”
Annabelle’s voice lowers to a whisper. “I think one of them threw up on the couch.”
I cover my face in despair. “Oh my God, Annie, I’m sorry. I should have been here.”
“I’m glad you weren't. We shouldn’t both have to sit through this shit.
Anyway, I put my headphones on and blasted Olivia Rodrigo as loud as I could to drown them out.
After they were finished screaming at each other, Dad went to the store, and they both started drinking with the TV on full volume.
The neighbors came over to ask them to shut it off, but Dad threw a beer bottle at the window.
I thought it had broken, but it’s just shattered. ”
“He shattered the window? Jesus. We have to get out of here,” I mutter, tugging my sister into a hug as I sit down on the bed.
We remain like that for a long while, my arms around her shoulders. Her collar bone is clearly visible as she heaves a long sigh beneath me, and it’s in that moment that I make a decision.
A the end of the month, we’re moving out.
Even if it means continuing to work with Crawford and exacerbating all the confusing feelings the man brings out in me, it’ll be better to start her treatment somewhere away from here.
“Can I ask you something?” Annabelle says, pulling away and sitting up. We both scoot back on the bed to lean against the wall as I kick off my shoes.
“Of course.”
“Is there anything going on between you and your boss?”
I stare at her, and I can feel the blood rush to my face.
“I knew it,” she says with a wry little smile.
I’ve never lied to my sister, and I’m not going to start today. “How did you know?” I ask, panic ripping through me.
Have other people noticed too?
“Don’t be mad, but I needed to find your headphones in your room, and you’d left your sketchbook on your bed. You know I love the drawings you do of me, so I was just glancing through them. I swear I wasn’t trying to snoop, and then I got to the back pages.”
If I have ever been this embarrassed before, I don’t remember when.
“He’s got a great body,” she says with a little chuckle, and I fold forward, putting my head in my hands.
“Oh my God.”
“Hey! No judgment. I think it’s awesome. He’s super wealthy, right? Maybe he can buy you a ring and get you out of here.”
“Okay, first of all, there is no question of his buying me a ring. And second of all, wherever I go, you’re coming with me.”
She gives me a fond smile. “Does he make you happy?”
I look away, wishing I could tell her the truth, but I’m too terrified of what she might think of me to do it.
Annabelle would never judge anyone for their choices in life, but it’s different talking to Hope and Bethany about sleeping with a guy for money. When it’s your sister, the conversation becomes a lot more complicated.
“It’s not really about that. It’s pretty casual,” I say lightly.
“But he asked you to the gala tonight?”
“He did, but only because his date bailed.”
Annabelle laughs. “And a billionaire couldn’t think of anyone else to ask but his EA? Seriously? He must have hundreds of women just dying for him to take them out. But he chose you.”
I push down the simmering excitement that her words create in me and stand up.
“Maybe,” I say gently, smoothing my dress. “But I really don’t think so. It was just convenient.”
Annabelle shrugs. “Whatever you say.”
“Get some sleep. I’m gonna go see if I can wake them up.”
“Just leave them,” she says with a frown.
“Yeah. But if I do that, the cleanup is a lot harder in the morning.”
Annabelle sighs. “I can come down and help.”
“I don’t want you to do that. You’re tired. Get some rest.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
I leave her looking guiltily after me and go downstairs.
Standing in front of my parents, looking at the sorry state of their lives, it’s the first time I feel no sympathy for them.
They choose to get drunk every night instead of trying to get healthy, and it’s not my job to clean up after them anymore.
I kick my dad’s foot, hard, and he grunts, rolling over on the couch and squinting up at me.
“Why’re you dressed like a cheap whore?”
I haven’t seen him in three days, and those are the first words out of his mouth?
“Go to bed,” I snap, pushing at him until he sits up.
“You’re spendin’ all your money on yourself again, I see,” he mutters as I grab a trash bag from the closet and start to shove the bottles and cans into it. Usually, I would wait until he’s gone, but I’m too mad at them to delay this. I want to go to bed, too.
My mother stirs, blinking up at us in confusion. “What time is it?”
“Almost one,” I say. “Go to bed.”
“Little Miss High and Mighty only just got in,” my dad says to my mom, and she rolls her eyes.
“Where the hell’d that dress come from?” she asks, rising and stretching languidly. Neither of them attempts to clean up any of the mess they’ve made, and I try not to look at the couch.
I can smell the vomit from here. Was my mom just lying in it?
“It’s none of your business, but I borrowed it,” I mutter, my temper getting the better of me again. That’s when my dad stands, turning to me, all six feet of him. His eyes flash.
“Don’t speak to your mother in that tone,” he barks at me, and I ignore him. “Hey! I’m talkin’ to you.”
I keep cleaning up the trash around me, a red haze lowering over my vision as my mom staggers through to the bedroom without a word.
“Hey!” my dad hollers at me again, and grips my arm. I spin around, shaking him off, but as I do, my heel clips the edge of the TV unit, and I stumble, falling backward.
Something breaks beneath my hip as I land awkwardly against a group of bottles beside a bag of old takeaway food.
I land on my ass on top of something slimy and look down at a pot of sweet and sour sauce seeping into the carpet and all over my dress.
“Hah! Serves you right. Dumb bitch,” my dad mutters and follows my mom into their room.
I lay there for a minute cursing silently to myself before I pull myself to my feet. I look at the stain on the dress that I’ve ruined and fight back tears as I continue tidying up.
I glare at my parents' room as I shove endless bottles and cans into the trash bag. I hope they enjoy living in squalor once Annabelle and I are long gone.