Page 55 of House of Bass

“Your Jamie?” I say incredulously, stepping into the living room. “Since when was he yours? You said he was annoying.”

“He’s a little annoying but he’s my friend.” she hushes me then looks back at Daniel. “Who’s the artist?” And he mentions a singer I haven’t heard of. No surprise there, I mainly listen to rock bands from the 90s, classical albums including Stass’s and a popstar or two.

“Shame, I’m sure you’ll find it.”

“Hopefully,” he says.

“I’m sure a much needed game of blackjack will cheer you up, come on let’s play!” I yell, the alcohol buzzing through my veins.

An hour later, we both say goodbye to Dan, who promises to call me in the morning. I lay flat on the ground and tell her, “Ugh, you’re right. I really am a sore loser. How could I not have won a single game? And how did you win every ?”

Harley softly chuckles at my reluctant admission, “Come on, I’ll teach you how to be better.” She begins to reshuffle the cards, “The idea of you not being the best at anything evidently sends your brain into panic mode. The equivalent of a system failure.”

She continues, “It’s not your fault. Clearly, your father didn’t teach you any other way to live.”

“He’s not just my father,” I say, giving her a pointed look.

“Yeah, well, he’ll always be more yours than mine.” She shrugs, like it’s the simple truth she’s baring out to be accepted by all, herself included.

“I don’t think that’s true and I don’t think it’s what you want either.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

“How did you get so good at cards anyway?” I ask, pivoting our conversation.

“My mum used to play with me, whenever she was sober enough to be coherent.” My eyes flicker to the flask that sits on the floor next to me, I had just taken a swig out of it. Harley doesn’t speak a lot about her home before here. I assumed it’s because it’s too difficult, rehashing the details. But maybe, I’m the one who has been too self-absorbed to ask.

“What was she like?”

“Loud, angry, extremely bold, funny sometimes,” she says with an eye roll and it gets a smile out of me. However, Harley’s lips downturn. “There were times when she’d hit me, I had gotten so used to being slapped by ten years old that I didn’t flinch anymore when it came. I mean usually it happened when she’d had at least 4 bottles in her so I learnt to gauge her mood early. I’d try to hide our cash so she couldn’t go buy anymore or I’d throw away beer, one at a time, so she didn’t realise that she wasn’t the one who drank it.

“Ultimately, she is sad. She is a sad woman and it overshadows or enhances every other trait. That’s who she is. Nothing more or less,” Harley concludes.

“I’m sorry you had to live like that,” I tell her, and I mean it because I am sorry that she went from dealing with one sad person who drinks to another sad person who drinks. I think in some ways you never truly stop being depressed, like how an alcoholic is still an alcoholic after many years sober.

“Don’t be. In the end, because of her and him , I gained a sister. I have you,” she says. Her eyes twinkle but mine instantly sheen with tears at the words ‘sister’.

“That’s the first time you’ve ever called me that,” I whisper. My lips wobble because such a simple word holds so much weight. To me, it means the world. I’ve only ever had Stassie and now I get her too. Yet, there is the voice in the back of my head that yells at me, telling me I’m not good enough to be her sister. That she deserves someone who doesn’t drink everyday to curb away the hollowness that echoes inside her.

Harley shrugs again, “It’s what you are. Denying it gets me nowhere.” Then she looks up and sees that I’m on the verge of tears and tuts, “No waterworks, Bel. We still have a game to play.”

I smile brightly, discreetly dabbing away at my eyes. “Alright, teach me your best tricks so I can beat you next time.”

“You wish.”

✧✧✧

When Harley and I finally call it a night, I head back to my room, only just realising I had left my phone upstairs in the first place. I pick it up to see there are notifications informing me I have missed three missed calls from Arden, I immediately call him back at once.

Once he picks up, I say to him, “Usually most people get the hint after the first two or three tries.”

“I’m not most people,” he replies arrogantly.

“I’d hate to be the person who makes the mistake of thinking so,” I say with a smile. The sound of his voice perking me up. “Sorry, I left my phone upstairs. Dan, Harley and I were playing cards.”

“How come I’m never invited to these things?”

“Just to watch you and Harley bicker for two hours?”