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EMMIE
“Ready to head out?” Mal says, joining Faith and me where we’re sitting on their grandparents’ old patio around a heater, passing a joint back and forth.
Dad gave me a disapproving look from the kitchen window a while ago, but fuck it. I think we’re past the point of his chastising me for bad decisions.
Faith takes a hit of the spliff and then passes it to me.
“Sure thing.” She pushes to stand up. “You’ve got my number in that burner. Call me if you need anything.”
“Thank you,” I say honestly. She’s sat out here with me and mostly put up with my silence as I’ve tried to process everything I’ve learned since I woke up.
It’s a lot. All of it.
“Anytime. I know what it can be like being surrounded by these meatheads.”
“Yeah, yeah, that’s enough,” Mal says, messing up his sister’s hair until she makes a move to follow him down to his bike that’s parked amongst all the others at the end of the garden.
I watch them both pull on their helmets and then wave when they take off, the silence settling around me.
I shiver against the cold, but I refuse to go back inside.
After leaving Dad, Cruz and the others to have a meeting in the kitchen, Gran, Piper and I went to visit Mum. Gran had set her up in what used to be a study.
One look at her, even asleep, and I could see how much progress she’s made since I saw her in the hospital the other day.
She woke up with us sitting there, but she didn’t say a lot—although I got the feeling that had something to do with Gran and Piper, because every time she looked at me, I could sense that she had a million and one things on her mind. But she kept it all inside.
I should probably go and see if she’s still awake and find out what she wanted, but I’m not sure I’ve got the energy for any more of this shit.
Sadly, I don’t get much of a choice about sitting out here alone any longer, because not two seconds later does the back door open and a shadow falls over me.
“Can I join you?” Dad asks, claiming the chair that Faith was in only a few minutes ago.
“Sure,” I say, knowing that he’d never leave if I refused. “Want some?” I ask, passing the joint over.
“Yeah. But don’t get used to it.”
“What? Getting high with my dad? I thought you wanted to be cool, old man,” I joke.
He looks at me with the joint halfway to his lips. “I am cool, kiddo. It’s not my fault you wouldn’t know cool if it slapped you in the face.”
“So full of shit,” I mutter with a laugh.
“Speaking of that…”
I can’t help but groan.
I knew the second I saw him sitting in the kitchen that I was in for a world of pain.
This ‘talk’ has been coming since the first moment I reached out to Cruz and asked to meet him after that shit with him abducting Piper all those weeks ago.
“Em, you should have told me you were hanging out with Cruz.”
“So you could tell me not to?”
He shakes his head. “I wouldn’t have—”
“You would, and you know it.” I pluck the spliff from his fingers and take another hit, needing the high to have this out with my dad at last.
