Chapter 6
Chapter six
Growing old doesn’t mean you’ve grown up.
Growing up doesn’t mean you’ve grown old.
The top of my skull smacked the rusty faucet as I leaned my head under the running tap. Cold water drenched my hair as I attempted to wash away the remaining spaghetti and butter that coated my roots after the food fight moments ago. Maybe I should consider therapy ...
Kayla, who had been unusually quiet, stood beside me at the double sink vanity.
Her guilt-filled eyes met mine as I turned off the faucet.
I was aware that fifty percent of the incident downstairs was my fault.
I provoked the situation and thus received a spaghetti-filled eardrum, but I didn't throw the first noodle.
Hell, I wasn't the one who cheated! I admit I played a part in ruining Kayla's first kiss, but a peck on the wrong lips is far different from walking in on your best friend naked on your boyfriend's bed.
“Are you just going to keep staring at me, or are you going to open your big mouth and apologize?” I asked Kayla, then yanked a green towel next to the shower off its hook.
Kayla gathered her bundle of tiny braids to one side and squeezed them tightly. A cascade of dirty water and hot dog particles flowed from the tips of her hair into the sink, her eyes glued to the water instead of mine. “I’m sorry for throwing food at you.”
“And ...?” My voice gritted.
Kayla smacked her hands on the counter, her acrylic nails almost chipping from the force. “What do you want me to say?”
“Are you genuinely asking? Or have you lost brain cells in the last five years?”
Kayla folded her arms over her sauce-stained shirt.
“I’ve been apologizing to you nonstop over what happened with Jamie.
I’ve called you a hundred times, written you dozens of letters, and even showed up at your dorm room, but still, you won’t forgive me.
I don’t know what else to say or do to make you understand how much I wish I could take that day back.
” Water coated the corners of Kayla’s eyes.
I expected this to fill me with pleasure, but instead, my intestines twisted.
“If you want to make amends so bad, then tell me the truth!” I stepped forward like a lawyer defending my position to a jury. “You’ve apologized, but neither you nor Jamie has ever told me what happened that night.”
Kayla chewed on her glossy lips and picked fiercely at her cuticles with every word I spat.
“Tell me, why did the two of you throw Lucas and me away like we were a fucking pair of old shoes you were tired of?” I stepped forward again, placing my face in front of hers, which was painted with a thick line of running mascara.
“What was more important than us? Sex? Were you in love or just fucking bored that day!?” Unwelcome tears welled up in my eyes and slowly trickled down my cheeks.
“Please!” My voice cracked. “Please just tell me why, so I can move on.” Begging for a flicker of truth, I searched her eyes.
Kayla opened her mouth as if imprisoned words had broken free, trying to escape. But then she sealed her lips and caged her voice.
“I can’t, Alex, I promised Jamie I wouldn’t,” she finally confessed.
“But why—”
The door slammed as Lucas entered the room.
He glanced at Kayla and me, both with tear-filled eyes.
“Sorry to interrupt.” The best thing about Lucas was that he didn't pry; he took in the situation and moved on.
“Here.” He handed Kayla a large black T-shirt and neon green running shorts that were undoubtedly an old pair of Mom's.
“Thanks.” Kayla took the clothes from Lucas.
Kayla rubbed the shirt’s heavy material with her thumb as her burgundy lips rose slightly. “You always did like me in your clothes,” she teased Lucas.
Their flirtatious exchange made me cringe, and I decided it was high time to leave.
I pushed past Lucas and exited the bathroom, marching to my room to change.
The soft fabric of the hoodie against my skin provided comfort, a welcome retreat from the whirlwind of emotions and secrets.
I stared at my closed bedroom door and contemplated my next steps.
I knew the adult thing to do was to go downstairs and apologize to my parents for painting their white walls orange with spaghetti sauce.
But everything in my trembling nervous system told me to unlock my bedroom window, push its wooden latch open, and escape.
Then again, that was Jamie’s specialty, not mine.
Climbing up wasn’t a problem, but climbing down was an adventure that typically ended with a split lip and a golfball-sized lump on my head.
I reluctantly took a deep breath and wrapped my fingers around the doorknob.
Its cold metal stung my hand, acting like a red warning sign urging me to rethink my life's choices.
I twisted the handle and forced my right leg through the door frame, then my left.
As I stepped into the hallway, Kayla emerged from the bathroom.
Then, a heavy-footed Lucas came out of the room straight ahead of me.
His eyes widened drastically when he gazed upon Kayla in his clothes.
The two stood frozen, facing each other like mannequins.
Walking towards the stairs, I positioned my body directly between them. “Are you two going to move or just continue this weird staring contest?”
Lucas blushed and quickly looked away from Kayla. Meanwhile, Kayla responded with a bashful grin, crossing her arms over her chest. “What? Something on my face?” she asked Lucas with a mischievous smirk playing on her lips.
Lucas shook his head. “No, it’s just … feels like déjà vu.”
Kayla stepped a little closer. “Yeah, I guess I did use to steal your clothes a lot. But technically, you gave me your shirt the first time—at that party, freshman year.”
Lucas let out a soft laugh. “God, that night was a mess.”
Kayla smiled. “And just like then, I’m still not a princess in need of saving.”
Lucas rubbed the back of his neck; his expression caught somewhere between a smile and a wince.
“Wow, you're never going to let that comment go, are you? And for the record, you did need help that night.” His eyes held onto hers as if she were an angel shining just for him. But then his demeanor stiffened. He looked so tired, as if the weight of all the unspoken words between them was finally crushing him. “You never needed saving. I just thought you deserved someone who stayed.” His voice didn’t rise, but the next part cut deeper. “But you made sure I couldn’t.”
She flinched; her voice came quieter than before. “When are you going to stop punishing me?”
He let out a slow breath. Not quite a sigh, not a full pause. Just tired. “I’m not punishing you.” He met her eyes. “I’m just telling the truth.”
Kayla froze. Arms crossed. Shoulders tense.
One breath, two. Then she inhaled. “So, one mistake and I’m the bad guy forever?
Just because I didn’t play the part you wanted me to.
You think you’re so much better because you're the hero, and I became the villain.
Newsflash, Lucas: there are no heroes and villains, just misunderstood stories with unwritten endings. "
Lucas's face contorted with pain and submission. “Maybe. Or maybe it was easier to be the villain than risk finding happily ever after.”
Sensing the rising tension, I broke their exchange. “Okay, enough, both of you. We’ve got bigger problems right now.” I moved between them. “Can we please get through this night without any more drama?”
Kayla rolled her eyes at me. “Oh, please, you’re the queen of drama.”
“I beg both of you: no more fairytale references; this night is getting way too Once Upon a Time for my liking.”
I ignored both of their rebuttals and moved my bare feet quickly onto the cold stairs, the scent of our failed dinner lingering in the air as I descended.
On the ninth step, I froze, my gaze fixated on the scene unfolding before me.
My parents stood side by side, facing the front door.
My mother slipped her jacket on, and Julian fumbled with his keys.
Perplexed, I blurted out, “And where do you two think you’re going?”
That was mistake #1: never address your parents like a parent.
My mother’s clenched face turned to me, her expression a mix of annoyance and an eerie calm. “Alex.” She shifted her weight to her back foot as her hands flew to the sides of her hips. “You had a food fight in my dining room and shielded your face with my grandmother’s china!”
I huffed at my dramatic mother and wrapped my hand tightly around the banister.
That was mistake #2: never let your parents see your disobedience.
The octaves in my mother’s voice rose. “This fight between you three has gone on way too long, and I, for one, cannot handle seeing you kids act so childishly any longer.” She wrapped a scarf around her neck.
“Your father and I are going out to eat, and then we are going to stay at the Chesher Cat Inn for the night.”
A wave of disbelief swept through me as the word sank in. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. My gaze reflexively darted back to Lucas and Kayla, capturing the shared astonishment in their exchange glances, mirroring my shock.
My mother continued, “When we come home tomorrow, I expect to see that dining room and kitchen spotless!”
Julian's mediating voice cut through the argument like a poorly timed sitcom interruption. “We ordered you kids pizza. Maybe this time, try eating it instead of throwing it.”
From behind me, Lucas's voice piped up. “You didn’t have to do that.”
Julian raised an eyebrow, completely unfazed.
“If you’re all going to act like children, then I’m going to treat you like children.
It’s high time you had a time-out to sort out your problems. And no one—and I mean no one—can stay mad while eating pizza.
It’s a grease-filled, cheesy peace treaty.
” He paused, then shrugged, “Besides, I didn’t pay for it. Make sure to leave a good tip.”
Without another word, Mom and Julian headed out the open front door like they hadn’t dropped a verbal grenade into the middle of the group.
I stared after them, then swung my head toward Lucas and Kayla, blinking in disbelief. “Did we get … grounded?”
Kayla shrugged. “I mean, technically, we’re unsupervised with pizza, so … I call it a win.”
"I call it trapped."