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The dependency of wanting to get better, her dependency on me.
I knew moving out was hard for her, but not this difficult.
Continuing my chase, I stop when I see the smirk on her face before slamming the door to my bedroom. I sprint to the door as fast as I can before I hear the lock click.
My anger rises tenfold.
“Cleo, you better get your ass out here before I knock down this door!” I yell as I pound against the white wooden frame.
“I would love to see you try to knock down your own door, which leads to your own bedroom, in your own home,” she taunts me.
“Well, you can’t stay there forever, especially when I have junk food on the way.”
She’s silent, not responding to my words. Attempting to grab my phone from my pocket, I realize it’s in my room.
The very bedroom that my very stoned sister is currently sitting in.
“God help me,” I say under my breath before turning around to be met by her counterpart. Chanel’s arms are crossed over her chest.
A very Chanel-like stance.
“You really think that chasing her was the best idea?” she tells me dryly while staring at me as if I’m dumb.
“What else was I supposed to do?” I whisper yell at her.
“Have a civil conversation,” she points out.
“Like Cleo Clementine Luna is one to talk?”
“When she’s high, she talks a lot,” Chanel says in annoyance.
“Whatever. What’s done is done. Give me your phone.” I reach out my hand with my palm facing upward. She looks down at the gesture before rolling her eyes. Turning around, she walks over to the kitchen island and to her designer handbag before handing me her cell.
“Thank you.” My tone is filled with frustration. After typing in the passcode I’ve memorized for the past few years of her life, the phone unlocks instantly. Quickly swiping to the Rappi app, I prepare to lure my sister out of that room with the smell of food.
Knowing her, she won’t last a second after a whiff of what I’m about to order.
“I brought her here so you could talk to her,” Chanel says behind me.
“What do you mean?” I ask, still staring at her phone before pressing the order button.
“The weed isn’t the problem, Vio. The problem is that she hasn’t left her bed since you’ve left and when she does, it’s to go buy more weed. You moved out three years ago.” She sighs as she runs a hand through her perfectly blown out hair. “I’m worried about her, V.”
“I know, I know,” I say before reaching out to squeeze her arm in consolation. “I just don’t know what to do. She has these moments and when they happen, I notice. I always notice,” I whisper.
She snorts. “She’s been smoking since she was fifteen. It’s never been a problem and won’t be a problem. To be fair, she’s only smoked two times in the last three months. That says a lot about her getting out of bed,” she points out.
“I’m glad about the drug thing.” I stop, realizing my words. “Let me rephrase. I am glad she hasn’t grown a dependency. But I am worried about her being in bed all day. What about the makeup classes she’s taking?” I reply.
“She grabs her computer and then hops on virtually. After they give her an assignment, she gets up and makes her videos in bulk until four in the morning. Then she has two months of content and all her homework done for the next classes. I think you just need to talk to her.” She pauses before adding, “Not when she’s high, though.” Chanel’s tone is stern.
“I will,” I tell her before giving her a small smile. “But for now, let’s feed the girl while I yell at her, shall we?” A mischievous grin plays on my lips.
“Oh, how I love to see you yell at her,” Chanel says as we walk toward my bedroom door.
Chapter3
Violetta
