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fourteen
Her phone vibrated, but she ignored it. After her visit from her mother, Abbie had spiraled all weekend. She’d spiraled straight down that dark hole she’d always tried so hard to climb out of, but here she was, lying in bed and staring at the ceiling, depression overtaking her.
She called in to work and skipped her morning classes. She felt herself getting bad again, but she couldn’t seem to shake herself out of it. And she didn’t entirely know why she felt so bad. It wasn’t like anything her mother did or said was true, so her words shouldn’t affect her, but they did.
Vibrations shook her pillow again, and she groaned as she grabbed her phone and stared at the screen. It was Jett calling. Again.
But she didn’t want him to see her like this, to hear her like this. She was supposed to be happy all the time. She was supposed to enhance his life, not make it worse. So it was better for everyone if she just disappeared for a bit, just until she got her emotions back in order. Then she’d call him and beg for his forgiveness and hope it wasn’t too late.
His call went to voicemail, but immediately it began ringing again. Couldn’t he take a hint? She wasn’t in the mood to talk. But it wasn’t fair to him to treat him like this. If she wanted to have a relationship with him, or any other living, breathing adult man, she needed to learn how to communicate.
But she could do that later.
Right now, she just wanted to sleep.
She grabbed Ottie, Sealy, and Flash and clutched them tightly as she watched her phone screen go dark, then light up as he called her again. Maybe she could just send him a quick text. Let him know she was fine and still alive, but she just needed some time.
Or maybe he’d get tired of chasing and just leave her alone, kind of like everyone else did when she got like this. She didn’t really know why she retreated in on herself. All she knew was that when she felt like this, she just wanted to be alone. She wanted to deal with it all alone.
Maybe it was because her family never knew how to manage her when she was depressed, or maybe it was because she’d learned a long time ago that no one really cared how sad she was. The world still turned, and life went on. No one would sit around and wait for her to feel better.
But wouldn’t it be nice if they did?
Another call came through, and for some stupid reason, it just annoyed her. Why was he doing this? He’d spaced his calls and texts out over hours over the weekend, never back to back like this.
Grabbing her phone, she answered it before she could talk any sense into herself. “What?” she growled. There was a long pause on the other end, then he cleared his throat.
“Is that any way to speak to Daddy, little girl?” he asked, his voice low. Her stomach did this stupid flip at the words, and she squeezed her eyes shut.
“I’m not in the mood to play,” she whispered, her voice raw.
“And I’m not playing.”
It was her turn to be quiet.
“You asked me to be your Daddy, so that’s what I’m doing. I’m not going to leave you alone until you tell me to, and even then I might not. So, are you going to tell me what’s going on and why you’ve been ignoring me, or am I going to have to take you over my knee to get some answers?”
Her mouth was hanging open, widening with each word he said. He could not be serious. She couldn’t believe he’d just told her that!
And she hated her stupid body for reacting the way it did. It was ridiculous, and he was being way too demanding. But she liked it, and what did that say about her? That she was insane? Probably.
“Nothing’s wrong,” she muttered. She waited for him to say something, but when he stayed silent, she began squirming. “I just have some stuff going on right now. I’m sorry I worried you.” Still nothing. Was that not the right answer?
“I’ll give you one more chance to tell me the truth, then I’m going to start adding five spanks for every lie you tell.”
“That’s not fair!” she cried, but his silence told her he didn’t much care about how fair she thought it was.
She took a deep breath, her fingers gliding along the different textures of her stuffies as she petted them. How much should she tell him? Everything? But telling him she was upset that she inherited a quarter of a million dollars and her rich mother asked her to move back into their ridiculously-sized mansion hardly seemed like a reason to get depressed.
He’d probably scoff, tell her she was being stupid. Poor little rich girl, upset she can’t live the life she wants. So what? There are people dying. There are people who can’t afford food or clothes. And she’s upset about this?
It seemed silly.
“I had a talk with my mother when I got home Saturday. She said some stuff I wasn’t stoked about, and I’ve been upset ever since.” There. Not a lie, but not all the information, either.
“Talk about what?” he asked, and she sighed.
“Some family stuff.”
