Chapter 3
aimee
Birds chirped outside my window.
I groaned.
Blinking slowly and squinting against the cool air, I glared at the arrival of another day.
I’d been in a mood the last few days, therapy had worsened it, and I hadn’t been inclined to do much of anything because of it.
So, when the light filtered in through the blinds they lit up my pale yellow walls like I was sitting under stadium lights—it made me grumpier.
I grunted as I rolled over, pulling my blankets over my head.
I just wanted to…not. I wanted to rot in bed, and sleep had almost reclaimed me when a knock sounded at my bedroom door.
I knew who would be on the other side.
I knew what she wanted me to do, but I didn’t want to do anything.
So, I ignored her. I willed and urged her to lose interest and go away.
I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping sleep would immediately fall over me and make me unaware of the world.
Wanting to…not…included not wanting to have to deal with my parents.
I just wanted today. Tomorrow, I will get up and rejoin society.
Maybe.
“Aimee, are you up? Your father and I have something we’d like to talk to you about,” my mom said through the door.
I curled up tighter under my blankets and hoped my lack of answer would be enough.
That I wasn’t interested. That whatever they had to tell me, would probably be something I didn’t want to do.
The world was cruel and people were mean, and my blankets had been working overtime to project me.
They were safe, warm and cozy and not liable to hurl insults at me if I stepped a foot outside.
There was also a chance that I was hiding the fact that Eloise and I had maybe dyed my hair.
My normal strawberry blonde was now a red-orange, and I had a feeling my mother would freak out.
It had been impulsive—calling Eloise, telling her to come over and bring hair dye.
I couldn’t stand to spend another day looking at myself in the mirror.
Ultimately, it was going to be a land mine of questions at my next therapy appointment.
Another knock, and this time it was accompanied by the doorknob clicking open. I closed my eyes and urged my body to relax. Maybe if she thought I was asleep she’d just leave. I listened to her footsteps muffled by the shag rug that covered most of my floor, as she moved closer.
I knew she saw the mess.
I’d been wallowing and too lazy to do more than throw stuff down or shove it out of the way. Clothes littered the floor, and there were probably some granola bar wrappers outside of my trashcan. I felt the edge of the bed dip as my mom sat down on its edge.
“Sweetheart.”
I forced my breath to stay even and steady, forced my body to stay limp and relaxed. I just wanted today.
“I know it’s been…hard…harder recently,” she paused, “I know it can seem like there’s no point, but I just wanted to remind you that we’re all here for you.”
I squeezed my eyes shut tight and ignored the sharp stabbing pain in my chest at her words. I ignored the burn of tears and the lump forming in my throat.
“If you’re feeling up to it, your father and I would like to talk to you later today. We have some news, and we’d like to discuss it with you.”
I fought the urge to react and ignored the interest her words piqued. I shoved it down, hoping to stay numb just a little longer.
I felt her stand up, the bed shifting slightly.
She ran her hand up my blanket covered arm and gave my shoulder a squeeze before I felt the press of a kiss on the top of my hoodie clad head.
I listened to her muffled footsteps as she walked out of my room, and heard the quiet snick of the door latch catching.
I laid there tense for another minute, before I was convinced she wasn’t hovering outside my door.
I whipped the blankets off and let the tears pooling in the corners of my eyes, fall.
My throat grew tight, and I swallowed past the lump forming.
I stared at the ceiling through my tears.
They pooled in the corners of my eyes next to my nose before overflowing and dripping down my cheeks.
Rolling past my ears. I could see the old outlines of glow-in-the-dark stars that used to decorate my ceiling.
Years ago, Asher had put them up, and a year ago I’d ripped them all down.
It was like they mocked me. And I couldn’t stand it.
The anger was building the more I looked at the little pale yellow stars that Asher had stuck on my ceiling after I told him I wished I could sleep out under the stars every night. He’d done it as a surprise and when I came home, all he’d said was ‘now you can’ and showed me what he did.
Hot, angry tears blurred my vision.
He was the best person I’d ever known and I’d—.
The stupid fucking stars.
I climbed up on my bed, ignoring the pain in my knee, the ache in my wrist and I started tearing them down. They flung every which way as I screamed, cried, and hated myself for ruining his life.
I must’ve been loud, because suddenly there were arms around me—Orion had come running. And I fought him, injuries forgotten, because none of it mattered, because what mattered were getting the stupid fucking stars off my ceiling.
I reached down and rubbed my knee absentmindedly.
It had been a few months, and an online article had gone viral—throwing all sorts of accusations at me.
I’d lost it. Everything just kind of went quiet in my head.
I remember that part weirdly enough—how everything just seemed to pause for a moment.
It’s almost as if the universe knew I needed a moment, before snapping back to reality.
I was barely into my recovery for my knee, and climbing on my bed hadn’t done it or me any favors.
My parents had been out of town, so it fell on Orion’s shoulders to haul me to the ER.
I told them all that it didn’t matter that I’d fucked up my knee again—I was done skating and I was done looking at the stupid, fucking stars.
Orion had stayed with me in the hospital that night, until Annalise showed up.
I listened to them talk while I let the pain meds numb me to the world and drag me under.
I stared at my ceiling as my tears slowed, thinking about those stupid stars. I wiped the last few rogue tears from my cheeks as my phone buzzed.
I ignored it.
Then, it buzzed again.
And again.
And again.
And then in rapid succession in this way only a best friend could utterly blow up your notifications. I ignored the little red dot on the smut sluts group chat as I signed and hit the answer button.
“Bitch, I wouldn’t have to blow up your phone if you would just answer any of my texts,” Eloise said.
“What do you want?” I sounded hoarse and stuffy from crying.
“Aimee?” She sounded concerned.
We’d been friends for forever—long before Asher entered my life. For a while it had been the three of us.
“What’s wrong? Do I need to come over? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I croaked.
“Bullshit. You’re a terrible liar.”
I huffed a laugh that turned into a sob.
“Aimee.”
“The stupid, fucking stars.”
I heard her exhale, the realization. She knew about the stars—what they meant, what I did to them. Fresh tears burned in my eyes and my head was starting to ache.
“Anniversaries are hard.”
I scoffed.
I was tired of myself and seemingly being stuck in these emotions. The pressure was turning into pain in my chest the longer I held it in.
“I’ll talk to you later,” I managed to get out.
“Aimee, wait—”
I ended the call just as the sobs broke free.
“Do you like them?”
I paused as I crossed the threshold into my room. Asher was sitting on my bed, grinning.
“Like what? I need more context.” I laughed.
He nodded his head and looked up, and I followed his gaze. My breath caught.
“A few more hours with the light on, and they’ll glow tonight once you go to bed.”
“You gave me the stars?” I asked, dropping my stuff and rushing towards the bed.
“I got you the stars.”
I launched myself towards the bed, throwing my arms around him as we collided. The hundreds of times he’d been in my room over the years, this felt different. It felt more.
“Merry early Christmas, Aimes,” he whispered.
I pushed myself up, so I was hovering over him. I brushed his blond hair back from his face.
“You gave me the stars for Christmas.”
His fingers ghosted over my lips, my cheek before tangling themselves in my hair.
“They’ll never outshine you,” he breathed as he pulled my face down to his.
The day was shot when I finally woke up.
My eyes and head ached, my throat was dry. I hated the aftermath of crying myself to sleep. It was never fun, and having Asher plague my dreams—the day he gave me the stupid, fucking stars. I was exhausted and weary.
I rubbed my hands over my face and drew in a breath that was a little too shaky, but I forced myself out of the bed and into the bathroom down the hall.
Splashing cold water on my face, I stared at my reflection—the dark circles under my puffy eyes and the hollowness that seemed to echo in them.
Splashing my face again, I let the water drip down while I fixed my hair into a neater messy bun before making my way down the stairs.
The soft hum of whatever show or movie my parents were watching filled the quiet descent.
The last step creaked as I hit the main landing, and I knew both of my parents heard it.
After filling a cup with water, I padded my way into the family room and sat on the far end of the couch.
Pulling my knees to my chest and sipping on my water, I waited for one of them to talk.
I hated that our quiet moments were like this anymore.
There never used to be quiet moments, but now, they echoed loudly through the house.
“There’s leftovers in the fridge if you’re hungry,” Mom said.
“Spaghetti,” Dad added.
I hummed my acknowledgment as the silence grew loud once again.
“You said you wanted to talk about something earlier?” I asked, my voice quiet.
An explosion lit up on screen, people were screaming as buildings crashed down around them. I watched the action movie as I waited for whatever they’d wanted to talk about. Tension pulled at my shoulders and dread started to fill my stomach.
“Did Eloise not tell you?”
I hummed a noncommittal noise, not wanting to admit that I’d hung up on her before giving her any kind of chance. The guilt that they went to her thinking I would talk to her when I wouldn’t talk to them…I owed my best friend an apology and a phone call.
“Your father and I have some work out west—Colorado, so we decided to extend it with a family vacation. A little over four weeks in December—over the holidays and new year. It’s a lodge in the mountains, on the smaller side, but with a lot of activities to keep everyone occupied.”
I gripped my glass as my heart rate spiked. I tried not to fidget as the panic started to build.
“It’ll be the three of us, Orion, Annalise and Eloise—a low stakes family vacation. Your father and I will have to work for some of it, but I’m sure the four of you can find ways to occupy and entertain yourselves.”
“I-I’m not sure…” I started.
“Sweetheart, it’s already booked. We leave in two weeks,” mom said firmly, but gently.
I set my glass down as my hands started to shake—thinking about all the people who would also be there, who could know who I am.
I rubbed my knee, remembering all the harsh words and comments from the online voices.
I tried to take a steady breath, but failed.
Mom came over and sat next to me, taking my hands in her soft, warm ones.
“We know that this is going to be hard, but all we’re asking is for you to come and do one family activity with us. If something happens and you want to spend the rest of the trip alone, you can. We think a change of scenery will be good for you.”
I stared at her with wide eyes and the soft understanding look on her face tore me to pieces.
“It’ll be fun, I promise,” she said.
I drew in another shaky breath and gave them a wobbly smile that I knew wasn’t convincing in the slightest. Dread was quickly pooling low in my guy, and I was scrambling to find some of the same optimism they both clearly had. I needed to do this for them.
“So, two weeks?” I eked out.
“Yep! So get packed and make a list of anything you might need,” she said, reaching over to give me a hug, “You’re going to love it out there.”
I wasn’t very hopeful.
Two weeks passed by too quickly.
Now almost 24 hours later, we were climbing out of the black Volvo XC90 Dad had rented and snow crunched under my boots. The sun shone high in the sky, but the air was still cold. I wrapped my jacket tighter around my body and snuggled deeper into my scarf.
The Lodge.
I snorted, finding the name funny.
It was rustic and stunning, the mountains and evergreens surrounded it on three of its sides. It was nestled in a little valley and I hated to admit that my parents had been right. I took a deep breath. I kind of loved it here, it felt isolated…free.
For over a year, I barely left my house. I didn’t travel. I didn’t go anywhere if I could help it. But here…here I felt like maybe I could leave everything else behind me.
Just a bit freer.
I took another breath, smelling snow in the air and the burning of wood. I steadied myself and then turned to help unload the car.
Maybe this next month wouldn’t be so bad.