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After a few minutes, Rose puts her head on my lap. Her ponytail is knotted, and she smells of alcohol and cigarettes. I probably smell the same on top of blood and sweat. We both haven’t been home since we left for Stoneview Prep’s winter ball.
There’s nothing I can say or do right now, so I undo her hair because I know she hates it up and I keep quiet. I let my head fall back against the headrest and scratch her head like she expects me to. This is about the furthest she’ll go in showing her vulnerability.
The whole ride, I hear her whisper the list that is going on repeat in her head. Water, sodium laureth sulfate, citric acid, cocamidopropyl betaine, sodium hydroxide, etc., etc. I think that’s her shampoo bottle. Rachel tested her the other day. We were in our cozy living room, she was holding the bottle in her hands and giggling as my sister was repeating the chemicals to her in a bored voice. She hates doing it, but she did it for Rach because she loves her like that.
As soon as we park by the Murrays’ gate, it opens as if Chris was monitoring our arrival. Sam drives all the way up the hill and stops by the front door. He hands me mine and Rose’s phone and we both take them. Chris is waiting by the door, arms crossed over his chest and the darkest look on his face I’ve ever seen. He’s got a light bruise on his left cheek, but I doubt he even feels it.
Sam gets out to open the door for Ozy but my friend is already on it.
Chris’ gaze is not leaving Sam’s and the latter doesn’t move any closer. This is not about us right now. This is not about their hatred for each other. Rose heads to the front door, probably straight to Chris’ room, her official safe haven.
Sam nods at us and leaves without a word. As soon as he’s left, I reach under my glasses to rub my eyelids with my thumb and index finger. I’ve got another terrible headache coming my way.
“Jake…” Chris scolds.
“I know,” I cut him off.
I respect the shit out of Chris. I don’t think I’ve ever respected someone as much as I do him. He’s the big brother Nate never was. That’s the only reason he’s allowed to tell me off, to suggest, to scold and I let him. I try to listen to him as much as I can. I do my best to follow his path when it comes to keeping calm. But how could I when Nate tried to put himself between Jamie and I?
So yeah, I know. I know I fucked up. I know if I hadn’t gotten in a fight with my brother over pride, none of this would have happened. I fucking know. And I know this is all far from over.
By the end of the day, my headache is absolutely killing me despite the pills I took. I fell asleep on my bed as soon as Chris came to tell me Ozy was asleep in his.
When I wake up, I head straight for the shower and scrub all of last night away. My ribs on my right side are deeply bruised and the knuckles of my right hand are cut. I look down at my stomach and I have another bruise from when Sam kneed me in the guts. Asshole.
I wipe the mist on the mirror and look at my bruised face. I’m glad my eyebrow has stopped bleeding hard because I don’t have the strength to go to the hospital. I put a band-aid on it and head for the kitchen to grab ice from the freezer. My black eye definitely needs it.
Now that the adrenaline is gone, all my muscles are aching, especially my shoulders and back. I could sleep for three days, easy. I put the ice cubes in a towel and head for my phone in my room before realizing I forgot to charge it. I let out an annoyed groan and plug it in. This headache is going to be the end of me, I need fresh air.
I get out of the pool house to find Ozy leaning on the wall next to the door, a cigarette in her mouth. Her hair is clean and down, her make-up from the night before all gone. She’s wearing one of Chris’ Stoneview Prep hoodies that are about five times her size. She looks up from her phone when I close the door and gives me one of her mocking grins.
“You look like shit,” she chuckles.
I try to smile back at her, but I can’t get myself to. It annoys me how normal she’s acting after spending the whole night at Bianco’s on her own.
“How are you feeling?” I ask.
I try to not sound too worried as I grab a cigarette from her pack, but I know she can read it in my eyes.
“Dude, I’m fine. Don’t be a Chris.” She holds my gaze and I know she means it. Leave it alone.
I hold the ice to my eye and grab a chair from the patio to sit in front of her. She lights my cigarette as I put it between my lips.
“Was Bianco for real? About offering us to pick up where we left off? Is that really what he and Nate want?” My voice trembles slightly at my questions.
“Fuck if I know,” she exhales smoke as she lets her head fall backward.
She looks at the sky full of stars and goes silent for a minute or so. Does she really not know? Doesn’t Bianco tell her anything when he spends time alone with her? My stomach clenches at the thought and I look at the sky too, trying to calm myself. I hate winter, it’s nighttime at six pm and I slept all fucking day, so no sun for me.
“How does that even work in his mind? Surely, he knows that it’s not that easy to get back foster kids that have asked countless times to leave your house. Especially since we’re doing so well at the Murray’s. Social services won’t just send us back to him.”
My sister laughs at my statement like she knows something I don’t. Or like she’s already figured something out that I haven’t. Yeah, that’s probably it.
“Alright, give it to me. Show me how stupid I am compared to you,” I say as I run my hand through my hair.
“You really don’t get it? Let’s see.” She pushes herself off the wall, leaving her cigarette between her lips, and rubs her legs with her palms.
How is she not freezing with just a sweater on? It barely reaches the top of her legs, she’s too tall to wear guy’s sweaters as dresses like Jamie does with mine.
