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God damn it. “I was not!”
“You have sex hair.”
My hand flies up to fix my ponytail. “Shut up.”
“The guy from the office again?” Pen presses as I push past her, jabbing my elbow in her side on my way.
“I don't want to talk about this.”
“Ew, it was.” She wrinkles her nose in disgust. “I hate that guy.”
“You don't know that guy.”
She levels me with a look. “He thinks breakfast is a protein shake and a wheatgrass shot. I hate him on principle.”
I snort at that. She's not wrong. I fell asleep at his place by accident once, a big mistake that I regretted pretty hard when the morning after, I discovered his version of breakfast in bed was just as Pen says. I gagged as I forced down that godawful shot, closing my eyes and daydreaming of croissants. I swear, I tasted grass for a week.
“It's not serious.” I tell Pen, and I mean it. It will never be serious. I don't want that. I...
I just can't.
Pen shoots me a sad look, her hand wrapping around my arm and squeezing. “I know.”
“There you girls are!”
We both jump at the sudden voice screeching down the driveway, gazes flying to the woman standing in the doorway. Pen and I paste on smiles and hurry toward her.
“Hi, Mom,” Pen greets with a kiss on her cheek and a fierce hug.
I keep a bit more of a distance. My hand lifts in a weird wave that Pen snorts at. “Hi, Mrs Jacobs.”
Her smile noticeably dims as it flicks to me but still, she tries. She always tries. Wary but welcoming.
She pats my shoulder as I pass her on the way inside, and that familiar wave of guilt crashes over me. I still feel it every time I see the woman. It hasn't lessened over time. I've just learned to deal with it, just like how she's learned how to deal with me.
The hand on my shoulder tugs a little, stopping me from following Pen further into the house. I glance back at Mrs Jacobs. “Your mother's here,” she tells me carefully, barely containing her wince.
A wince that I copy. “I know. I saw the car outside and assumed.”
“Okay.” A comforting squeeze. “I just wanted to warn you.”
I offer her as real a smile as I can muster. “Thank you.”
Six long months and I still haven't gotten used to the feeling that hits me when I walk into a room and find my mother, my father, and my sister all sitting together. It's an indescribable emotion, one I feel way too fucking often. This awful combination of confusion and hatred and guilt and... grief, I guess. Grief for the perfect, happy life I lost.
It's like one day I woke up and I was someone else. I was still a daughter but someone else's daughter. Someone's step-daughter. Someone's sister.
I'm kind of grateful for that last one because at least there's someone in the world who has some semblance of an idea of what the fuck is happening.
My cheeks hurt from how hard I force a smile. Briefly glancing at my mom, I nod. “Ma.”
She perks up the moment I look her way, her smile almost as fake and bright as mine. “Hi, hun.”
I have to look away, noticing Pen purposely sit on the sofa next to Ma so I don't have to. I whisper my thanks as I sit on her other side.
“Luna.”
“Professor Jacobs.”
