Page 18 of Save Me

I stare at him.

Dad snorts. “It’s like half my paycheck, especially if something is wrong. Then it could be my entire paycheck.”

I blink.

“It’s not enough, son.”

That wave of tears that’s been welling up behind my eyes gets hot. Not enough? But this is all I have.

“Please.” I don’t ask for much. I need this.

Dad turns back to the stove. “Can’t afford it.”

The anger is back, but I don’t want a spanking. I turn away. If we can’t afford animals, why do we get them? It’s not fair!

I turn to see Chloe there, frowning at me. She looks confused, and when she sees my face, her own falls.

“It’ll be okay,” I tell her. I don’t know what else to say. I hear the little shuffle of her feet as she follows me to the room.

“What’s happening?”

“I’m just going to check on him.” Chloe tries to follow me, but I block her.

“Wait!” She sounds panicked, like she does when we watch scary movies. I feel like that too, but I have to keep a brave face.

“It’ll be fine.” I lock her out of the room, which is silent. When I go to check on Nippy, he hasn’t moved, and I know. I already know. I know he’s gone.

Trying to swallow is like trying to swallow a handful of rocks. For a minute, the feeling threatens to overwhelm me, then I remember the look on Dad’s face. The way his mouth turned down, and his eyes were dark. Like he hates me.

I pull in a shuddering breath. I shouldn’t have asked. Shouldn’t have done anything. It didn’t help. No one can help when bad things happen. It’s just how it goes.

CHAPTER TEN

Southern Comfort is a bitch, but she’s a cheap bitch, so she’s my bitch. She and I have been making out since I got home, and I giggle to myself about how she’s the only girl I’ve ever made out with and enjoyed it.

My tooth hurt until I started drinking. Now, magically, it doesn’t anymore. I wonder why alcohol isn’t prescribed by doctors?

It’s hard to stand up, so I lie on my couch, staring at the ceiling. A sad, flat ceiling, not even popcorn or butthole stamps, and that makes a wave of somber heaviness wash over me. I’m alone in my unremarkable apartment, barely making a living, and now my car is broken down, so I probably won’t make it to Mr. Parker’s house anyway. Awesome.

I blow out a breath, eyes heating, then shake my head vigorously. I won’t let this buzz go to waste on a fucking pity party. After the shaking, my eyes feel heavy. I close them to rest them, just for a bit. Then I’ll get back to feeling happy. I haven’t texted my siblings in a while. I should check on them… right after this rest.

When I open my eyes again, the room is bright. It confuses me for a minute. What’s happening?

Squinting, I check my phone.

Fuck! It’s eight in the morning.

Bolting upright, a wave of dizziness overcomes me, and I groan, grabbing my head. What the hell? In that brief glance at my phone, I saw a bunch of missed calls, and I groan again.

Mr. Parker is gonna be furious. He’ll probably even fire me. I deserve to be fired.

I refuse to look at the phone, which starts vibrating with another call.

Cool. Awesome.

Slowly, I get myself up to brush my teeth. How long has it been since I brushed my teeth? I try to focus on the minty flavor instead of the pounding in my head and the nagging feeling that I should call a tow and make some excuse to Mr. Parker. Instead, I brush harder, and it reminds me that my tooth still hurts.

Fuck. Throwing the toothbrush back in the container, I go back out to the living room to hear my phone buzzing again with vibrating energy. Answer me, answer me, answer, you’re gonna get fired, you’re gonna get fired–