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“Excuse me, I have to use the restroom.”
I don’t wait for a response from anyone before I dart toward the single-stall restroom, locking it behind me. The frosted glass of the door is cold against my skin.
Why I let her get to me so much, I’ll never know.
The tears begin to stream down my face. An unfortunate side effect of bottling so much up around my parents is that when I do cry, it’s nearly impossible to stop.
What feels like forever passes, yet the tears continue to pepper my cheeks, streaming down to land against my collarbones.
Knock, knock.
“Just a minute.” I wipe the moisture from my face, looking over at the mirror in an attempt to make myself more presentable. There is no hiding how red and splotchy my face is, the watery rim around my eyes still stinging.
Taking a deep breath, I open the door, expecting to find an impatient woman waiting for the only women’s restroom in the restaurant, or maybe Jackson or Gen.
I’m shocked to find Liam standing on the other side of the door, leaning against the wall in the hallway.
“What do you want?” I snip.
“Don’t make me regret being nice, Hannah.” He exhales, examining my clearly swollen eyes. “You look rough.”
“Thanks, asshole. If I wanted to be told how terrible I look, I would go find my mother.”
His jaw tenses again, much like when we were at the table. “Fair.” He clears his throat as he steps away from the wall, invading my space. “Are you okay?”
I nod. “Why do you care?”
“I don’t,” he says with a sigh, “but you look like you could use a hug.”
Much to my surprise, I do want a hug, desperately. I step toward him, aching for the human contact. My hands meet his sides as he pushes my forehead backward with the heel of his palm.
“I’d be happy to go find Jackson.” He grins, the obvious joke rolling off his tongue. Except, it doesn’t sting like normal. There is a humor in his demeanor that I don’t typically see.
Rolling my eyes, I pinch his side, pulling a laugh from him and from my own lips as well.
“We cashed out.” His laugh drops, a serious expression painting his face again. “Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if your parents already headed out.”
I know I shouldn’t find that comforting, but I do. “Are Gen and Jackson still here?”
“Yeah, they’re waiting at the table. I told them I was going to the bathroom, so don’t tell them I checked on you…wouldn’t want it to ruin my street cred.”
“What street cred?” I laugh, met with a terribly stifled grin. “Not like they’d believe it anyway.”
“You wound me.” He mockingly drives a fake knife through his heart, causing me to smack his arm. “But fair. Seriously though, Hannah. Don’t let her get to you.”
I nod as he steps away, making his way back over to the table.
WhatTwilight Zonealternate universe I just stepped into, I can’t be sure.
“Hey, bug.” Jackson steps toward me as we approach the table, handing me my purse. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” I force a smile up at my brother, hoping to ease the sad expression looking back at me.
I feel bad for how brunch went, but then I remember that I was goaded into my reaction. My mother pushes me on purpose, and while I know that objectively, I also know that what she says has merit.
Am I making a mistake in not finding an alternative career path with acting not working out? I can’t accept that yet. I’ve worked far too hard for far too long to accept that it’s not meant to happen.
“Let’s get going.” Jackson forces a smile, the four of us making our way out of the restaurant.
