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When I walked in from work, my parents confiscated my cell. My father then grew angry red when what they thought was my password didn’t work and I refused to give them the real one. Razor’s codes are on my phone. So is the picture of me and him together at Shamrock’s and the ones of me drinking. They’ve seen the picture of me and Razor, but someho
w for them to find it on me would be worse.
Funny how I was terrified of them seeing that photo and being disappointed in me. Now I’m scared they’ll see that photo and judge Razor. I’m holding out hope my parents will calm down and grant him a chance.
It’s one in the morning and my parents are fighting. So loud I can decipher most of what they say from my bedroom. Mom’s blaming Dad for being busy at work, Dad’s blaming Mom for ignoring me when I went to her for advice and Elsie’s crying in her room.
Neither of them seem to hear her or care.
Part of me had been praying Razor would show under the streetlamp on his motorcycle, beckoning me to climb down so we could run away. It hasn’t happened and it won’t.
My door creaks when I open it, and across the hallway, Clara, Joshua and Liam are gathered on Joshua’s bed. They stop their intense whispers and study me as if I’m a stranger. In the end, I guess I am. It’s never been a secret that I’m the outsider.
“Mom told you to stay in your room.” Clara’s home on break and I wish she would get a life like my two oldest siblings and never return. “Did you hear what I said?”
Clara reminds me of a dog nipping at another’s heels to force them back in line. She’s always been snapping at me and I’ve always turned tail and fled, but I’m not her submissive puppy anymore.
“Elsie’s crying,” I say.
Her sobs grow louder and so does Mom’s voice. “...do you expect of me? I can’t handle all of this on my own! My job is important, too...”
“Do you think acting perfect is going to make them like you again?” Clara smirks as if her words were sharp enough to draw blood.
“You won, Clara. They hate me. Everyone in this family hates me. If you don’t mind, I’m going to let you continue your gloating party while I take care of Elsie.”
She rolls her eyes and she calls out, “You’re getting what you deserve.”
“You never know when to stop, do you?” Joshua reprimands, and I’m not sure if he was talking to me or Clara and I don’t care.
Elsie’s My Little Pony bedsheets are twisted around her legs, and her nightshirt, which is actually Liam’s old T-shirt, dangles off her shoulder. The night-light plugged in on the wall near her bed casts a faint glow over my youngest sibling. Her face is red, her eyes swollen. Tear tracks mark her face.
She lifts her arms in the air, and when I’m within jumping distance, she launches herself at me and buries her head in the crook of my neck. Hot wet drops land on my skin and I close my eyes as I hug the little girl I wanted desperately to evade months ago.
I sit on her bed and she keeps herself curled around me, but the sounds of despair have ceased. Across the room, Zac watches me from the bottom bunk, Paul from the top. Both of them peek out from under their covers like owls terrified to wander from the safety of their nest.
“Is it true?” Paul asks. “Are you dating someone from the Reign of Terror?”
Elsie throws her fears into the mix. “Are Mommy and Daddy going to be mad at you forever?”
“Are they going to make you leave?” asks Zac.
Elsie’s dark eyes fill up again and her lower lip trembles. “I don’t want you to go.”
More questions pour from them about Razor and my parents and leaving and then the light flicks on. Liam and Joshua stride in and Clara hangs back to cock a hip against the door frame. From downstairs, Dad yells something about how Mom never has enough time for him and Mom shouts back asking why she should spend time with someone who doesn’t acknowledge her existence or worth.
I smooth back Elsie’s hair from her hot, sweaty face and consider laying my palms over her ears until the argument is over. Joshua picks up a pillow and swats Zac with it until he allows him room to sit and Liam rests his back against the frame of the bunks.
“You should be at work,” I say to Liam.
He hooks his thumbs into his jeans. “Getting a text telling me that there’s a picture of my little sister making out with a guy from the Terror at a bar changed my plans.”
“We didn’t do anything that night.” The making-out portion had come much later. “And Thomas is more than a member of the Reign of Terror.” Using Razor’s real name feels like a better strategy than his road name.
Joshua’s eyes narrow into slits. “They’re killers.”
“You don’t know that. You don’t know anything about them other than what people say.”
“Is it true?” Liam barks, and I rub my hand along Elsie’s back when she shudders. “Did you tell Mom and Dad you’re in love with this bastard?”
