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“Would you mind helping me with this?” she asks, motioning to the potatoes on the stove. “Grab a plate from the cupboard,” she whispers, quietly moving around the kitchen as we both get the plates ready. “How are you doing, sweetie?” Her voice is low, her eyes peering to where my father sits, probably making sure he doesn’t hear.
“I’ve been better, but I’ll be okay.”
My smile is forced and for a split second, I wish she was the type of mother I could confide in. The type of mom that would sit me down, listen as I spill every detail of what’s happened, and comfort me. But I know that’s not her. I’m just here because I literally have nowhere else to go.
“Well that’s good to hear,” she mutters, taking her and my father’s plate into the living room, leaving me alone.
I shouldn’t be surprised that that’s all I got from her, I shouldn’t have expected more from a woman that stood behind my dad when he kicked me out at eighteen because I didn’t want to go to college for something “sensible” like a business degree. But still, while I stand there listening to their hushed tones in the other room, my plate of food getting cold in my hand, I wonder what it would be like for someone to care enough to fight for me.
* * *
The morning sun glares through my open window as my eyes squint open, my hand blindly searching for my phone. Once it’s in my hand and I see that it’s just after nine in the morning, I roll over, staring at the ceiling and wondering how I got here. I had a plan when I left home. I would go to community college, hone my photography skills, and be good enough to make a living. I did all of that, but what I didn’t prepare for was for my personal life to blow it all to pieces.
I miss Lucas. I tried all of last night to get his face out of my mind, to block his image from entering any part of my subconscious, but of course, I dreamed of him, woke up with his voice in my head, and the memory of his touch haunting me. Before I can lie here and wallow in my own self-pity, my father is ramming his fist against my closed door, causing me to sit upright, my heart racing.
“Elizabeth, get your ass downstairs. There’s someone here to see you.”
I furrow my brow because the only person who knows where my parents live is Mike and even though the last few days have been eye opening for many reasons, I really don’t feel like seeing him.
“I really don’t feel like seeing anyone right now, Dad,” I say loud enough for him to hear, hoping he senses my apprehension.
“I don’t care. Get down here now.”
Of course, he doesn’t take the hint and I take a breath, getting out of bed and looking at myself in the full-length mirror that hangs on the back of my door. This room hasn’t changed since I left at eighteen, with emo band posters hanging all over the walls, photographs taped to every surface, and for a split second, I wonder if I should change. But I shrug it off, smoothing out my sleep shorts that hang loose on my hips and my skintight tank top. I pull my favorite robe off the hook on the wall and wrap it around myself before I head downstairs. When my feet hit the bottom stair, I expect to see Mike sitting at the kitchen table talking to my mother, but instead I stop dead in my tracks as Lucas’s eyes meet mine as he leans back against the front door.
“Hey,” he whispers through a slight smile, the apprehension clear in those beautiful eyes. “I know I probably should have called, but I needed to see you in person.”
I still say nothing, the shock of him being here still lingering on my skin. Lucas’s eyes flick between me and my father who is now leaning against the doorframe of our kitchen, his eyes narrowed and his ever-present scowl directed at both of us.
“Take it outside. It’s too early for this shit,” he mutters before turning away, leaving us blissfully alone.
“Let’s head outside.” The words are like sandpaper in my mouth as I motion for him to open the front door. My eyes peer behind me only to see my mother peek around the corner, a slight smile on her face, and I can’t help but smile back.
The birds break the silence between us as I sit on the chair to my right and Lucas leans against the railing, his arms straining as he grips the banister tightly. I open my mouth to say something, but all I can do is stare because I didn’t realize how much I missed him until this moment. I knew I missed his company, the laughter, and the simplicity of our relationship, but at this moment I realize just how calm he makes me. He quiets all the background noise that seems to always overwhelm me and right now is the first time in days that I haven’t felt it.
“You look good,” he says, his gaze meeting mine slowly, his eyes pleading for something I can’t put my finger on.
“Thanks?” I mutter, not really knowing what to say to that. “What are you doing here, Lucas? And how did you find me?” I ask, having a feeling Mike is behind it, but I need to hear it from his lips.
“Mike gave me the address.”
I nod, making a mental note to beat the shit out of him for giving that information out. But that’s for another day, one where I’m not so confused and angry all at the same time.
“Why did you leave?” he whispers, his body tight as I take a deep breath.
“I know your parents took your money from you.”
He nods and I expect sadness to wash over me when his eyes meet mine, but I see something else. Determination?
“They did. My lawyer called me right after you left Addison’s house.”
I stay silent, waiting for him to elaborate.
“I was pissed. Angry at myself for believing I could trick them, for believing they would keep their word. All of it.”
I say nothing.
“Billie, why did you leave? I woke up and expected to talk it out with you. I needed to talk it out with you, and you up and left a note on my fucking counter like I meant nothing to you?” His anger is palpable but mine is growing and I stand, crossing my arms across my chest as my shoulders set and my eyes narrow.
