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“Stay away from my sister, Andy,” he hissed, looking at me with so much rage I could practically feel it bearing down on me.
I wanted to jump up and show him how much damage my fists could do but decided against it. He wasn’t thinking straight, and I didn’t want to make a bad situation worse.
Bobby looked at me for a few more seconds before he turned around and stormed out of the break room.
***
I stayed as far away from Bobby as I could for the rest of the shift.
I went about my chores alone, generally avoiding anyone who tried to talk to me. It was hard, especially since no one was used to the two of us giving each other the cold shoulder. We had always been a strong duo, pulling off pranks and joking about, generally the life of the station during the shifts we shared. Avoiding each other was unheard of. There were attempts by some of the others to try and figure out what was going on, but both Bobby and I shut that down quick. In time, the rest of the team just stayed clear of us.
We were being ridiculous, though, and by the end of the shift, I actually went looking for him to try and talk things through. But he had already left.
I drove home in silence, the radio off and my phone turned to airplane mode. If Andrea wanted to call me, it would have to wait until tomorrow. I didn’t need to pour fuel on the fire.
I parked the car and made my way upstairs, stopping when I saw the word ‘asshole’ spray painted on my apartment door. Hannah’s obvious handiwork was the tipping point, and the rage inside me broke out like an erupting volcano. I clenched my jaw and slammed my fist into the wall, ignoring the flashing pain that followed. I turned around, searching the corridor and the parking lot for her, hoping that she h
ad stuck around to see my reaction to her art. I didn’t know what I would have done if I had actually caught sight of her, but my mind was racing and all I wanted was to break something.
When I didn’t find her, I let myself into the apartment and slammed the door behind me. I’d have to talk to the super in the morning about the tacky graffiti, but right now, I needed a drink. I didn’t turn the lights on, opting for the scant illumination coming in through the windows from the streetlights outside. I opened the cabinet above the sink, brought down the bottle of Jack Daniels I kept there, and grabbed a glass from the sink. I poured myself a generous drink, downed it in one gulp, and poured another. Placing the bottle on the coffee table, I slumped down onto the couch with a sigh and closed my eyes. The day had started off beautifully, and I was supposed to be feeling great. Instead, I felt like a bulldozer had run over me.
I had fallen asleep on the couch when the doorbell rang and woke me up with a start. I was still holding my drink and spilled most of it on me when I jumped up. The doorbell rang again, and I groaned in discontent. I had a feeling that Hannah was back to fight some more, and if she was, I’d probably end up slamming her face into the wall and pushing her down the stairs. The best thing to do was ignore the door and pretend like I was asleep.
When the bell rang a third time, I downed the rest of my drink, pushed myself to my feet and lazily made my way across the living room. I swung the door open, bracing myself for a fight with the crazy bitch and ready to chase her all the way home. I froze when I saw Andrea.
Her arms were wrapped around her shoulders, her coat zipped up against the slight chill of the night. Her eyes were puffy, like she had been crying up a storm before coming here, and a small bag was by her feet. She looked like hell.
“Sorry,” she said. “I tried calling, but your phone wasn’t connecting.”
“Yeah,” I frowned in confusion. “I had a long day at work and wanted a little me time.”
She bit her lip and nodded.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
She shook her head, her eyes glistening with tears. “I had a fight with Bobby. I need a place to stay tonight.”
“Of course.” I opened the door wider and grabbed her bag. “Get in. Sorry about the door.”
She looked at the graffiti and smiled weakly. “You’re obviously popular.”
I winced and closed the door.
Chapter 11: Andrea
“Are you okay?”
I looked up from my computer and forced a smile when I saw Jane watching me from the backroom door. She had a worried look on her face, and even though she tried to look like a tough old bird, I could tell she was ready to turn into the soft mother figure I’d need. I nodded quickly, giving her an exaggerated thumbs-up.
“I’m fine,” I lied.
“You look like you haven’t slept worth shit,” Jane said.
I chuckled. “Let’s just say it was a rough night.” Understatement of the year.
I had been in my room the night before when Bobby came home. I heard him march up the stairs like a man with a mission, and he almost kicked my door down coming in. He was like a tornado on full throttle, shouting so loud I could have sworn the windows in my room shook. He was making absolutely no sense at first, until I was able to make sense of some of the words and realized he was angry about Andy and me.
The fight had gone on for at least an hour, both of us trying to shout over the other. I was crying halfway through, and that seemed to only make him angrier. I lost track of what was being said, at the insults we were throwing at each other, the blame game we were playing, how I accused him of being our father and he accused me of being the little brat who had run away years before.
