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Harper giggles, and I inform her about my twin brother. “And Hunter is okay. He’s in training right now, so I don’t get to see him much until I annoy him during practice.”
“So he’s just practicing? He has a game coming up soon, right?”
I laugh. “He always has a game coming up, but it’s usually just me cheering for him in the stands.”
“Hey, Conner and I can’t go because we are busy with Charlie!” Ava exclaims defensively.
“You didn’t go before Charlie.”
“I was studying and working. Excuse me for being busy.”
I chuckle, knowing I’ve riled her up, and shake my head. “Believe it or not, that was not a shot at you guys. My parents don’t even go to his games anymore. They push him and put the pressure on, but won’t turn up to his games.”
“That’s horrible,” Harper comments, sounding actually hurt by this.
“How are they with you now?” Ava asks, already knowing the answer.
I roll my eyes, thinking of my parents and the coldness that surrounds them. “Same old.”
Feeling a sudden wave of tiredness from all the thoughts and emotions racing inside me, I release a sigh, yawning into the phone. “Hey, I think I’m gonna turn in for the night. I’m feeling really tired.”
Ava hesitates before speaking, doubt leaking into her voice. “Okay, just know you can call me any time you need to talk.”
“Me too,” Harper says. “Just be careful of the time difference.”
I smile. “Yeah, I know. Thank you.”
We hang up and I am left in the darkened silence of the apartment, the only light emanating from the TV as Sydney fights with her boyfriend Billy. Then my phone chimes again with a text.
Looking down, I groan in annoyance at the name blinking back at mefrom the screen,Cynthia. My mother stopped beingmomwhen I was young and she was barely ever there. It got to the point where it felt weird to call her mom, so I eventually started calling her Cynthia. Funny thing is, she has never commented on it. Either she hasn’t realised or doesn’t care.
I read the text she sent me.
Cynthia: Don’t forget about tomorrow night. Charlotte Knight is so pleased that you agreed to show her son around town. Make sure that you don’t embarrass me and be nice.
I squeeze my phone in my hand, taking some of my anger out on the device before inhaling a deep breath and replying.
Me: How could I forget.
Hitting send, I then silence my phone, not wanting any more tonight. I have had enough reminders.
I turn off the TV, leaving my phone on the couch when I go to stand. Needing a pick-me-up, I walk over to my wall of shelves which houses all of my records I’ve collected over the years, my most prized possessions. I scan them before settling on a classic from my childhood, from times when Ava used to come over for dance parties when my parents weren’t home.
I hit play on the old record player Hunter got at a yard sale as a graduation present for me. It still works without a hitch and is another pride and joy.
As I take another breath, this one more calming, the music starts to play, and I hearBette Davis Eyesthroughout the room. I close my eyes, soaking it all in, feeling myself being transported back to a time when I thought I had choice and control, when I had hope for a future that was mine.
With my eyes still closed, I back up a bit, feeling the weight lift off me for a moment as the music washes it away. A small smile plays on my lips at the memory of Ava and I dancing around my room with hairbrushes for microphones, and I sway my hips as the music starts to pick up slightly until I am full on jumping when the chorus hits me. I jump and wave my hands in the air, moving without a care to the music because, in this moment, this is what I need. I need to be taken back to that time, to forget what I may have to face tomorrow.
CHAPTER 1
MIA
If anyone asked me how I expected my Sunday night to go, I would not have said,hiding in a restaurant bathroom from a disastrous date forced on me by my mother.
As I pace the bathroom, I keep getting cautious and concerned glances from women coming and going. I actually saw a woman come in, see me, and leave straight away. Oh well, I guess she didn’t need to go that badly. I continue to pace, running a hand through my hair while holding my phone to my ear and gritting my teeth as Ava’s loud laughter hits me from the other end of the phone.
“I really don’t think this is a laughing matter,” I exclaim into the phone and Ava continues to laugh through her words.
