Eleven
Saint
Normally, I’m an early riser, but when I wake up, it isn’t dark outside, so I know I must have slept in. It isn’t shocking, seeing as Winter and I drank too much last night at Bottom Barrel.
My head throbs painfully when I start to get up, but I still make my bed before going to take a shower.
As I stand under the stream of hot water, my mind keeps going back to last night.
For a while, things had been going well between Winter and me.
At one point, I almost thought we might be getting close to a kiss.
We both seemed to want it. But as we stood chest to chest, sharing air, lips inches apart, Winter’s demeanor flipped instantly.
Doing a complete one-eighty, she started purposely riling me up.
It seemed that when she realized we weren’t fighting for a change, she decided things were going too well and deliberately created a divide.
After that, we both got jabs in against each other, and after a couple of drinks, the bartender decided we needed to leave.
She had called Winter’s mother to come pick us up like a couple of errant children who needed a parent to reprimand them.
To be fair, we were being a little bit of a nuisance to the vibes of the bar.
I’m sure that after we left, the air of tension dissipated, just as that same tension joined us in the car and followed us home, even though her mother was with us.
On the ride to their home, we were all quiet.
Evaline—Winter’s mother—didn’t say anything, but she didn’t have to.
It was clear from her expression that she highly disapproved of our current predicament.
Worse was the look in Mr. Evergreen’s eyes as he climbed into Winter’s car to drive it home.
That was a metaphorical gut punch. It was easy to feel like a chastised child in the moment.
Once I’m finished with my shower, I take my dirty clothes back to the guest room I occupy to put them in my dirty laundry basket.
I debate for a few minutes whether I’ll go downstairs for something to eat or if it’s better to hide in the room for a while.
Knowing I’ll eventually have to face Evaline, whether it be now or later, I decided to pull myself together and go face the music.
At first, I don’t see anyone roaming the house and think I’m in the clear. After grabbing a plate from the cupboard, I make a waffle for breakfast, hoping that eating something will help with the hangover. I’ve just flipped the waffle onto my plate when I feel a presence in the room with me.
Glancing over my shoulder, I make direct eye contact with Evaline, who stands across the room with her arms crossed over her chest. The disappointment radiating from her brands my soul. As a second mother to me my whole life, I hate to ever disappoint her.
“Well, I see one of you stuck around this morning.” When I just raise an eyebrow in question, she continues, “Win snuck out of here bright and early. Seeing as she’s never a morning person, I have a feeling it was to avoid being questioned.
So that leaves you to answer me. What happened last night? ”
If my mom were still alive, I have no doubt she’d be grilling me as well. The thought makes my heart ache intensely at the loss of my mother. She raised me all by herself but never made me feel like a burden. She was an amazing, loving parent. Not a day goes by that I don’t miss her.
Dragging myself out of the memories, I turn to Evaline.
Starting at the beginning, I explain running into each other and saving the girls from the fake cowboy, then go from there. It’s like word vomit; I can’t stop.
Evaline doesn’t shy away from any of it. Looking me directly in the eye, she asks me the question, “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”
Well, damn. Is it that obvious?