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"Honestly, I'd say that image is pretty tarnished by now. The distinguished doctor and his wife who's on every committee in town having a daughter who killed herself? I don't really know what can be salvaged at this point. We were their model daughters that they showed off at all the events they dragged us to. Now there's just me left, and people whispering about how couldn’t they have noticed, how, if they cannot even handle their own home, can they handle being leaders in the community."
"So what is it that's making them act this way now?"
"I think it's more about control at this point. They did everything they could to control every aspect of me and Callie's lives. What clubs and activities we did in school, who we hung out with outside of school. What we were allowed to do with our free time on the weekends. Then when we got older, it was what college we could go to, that we had to live at home while going or figure out another way to pay for college, what cars we got even. Everything. A big part of it was image. That people in our neighborhood, their colleagues had to see us as the perfect family, successful parents and daughters following in their footsteps. But another part of it was just purely wanting control over us, needing it for some reason."
"But why?"
I shrug. "Maybe at first they really did think they were just steering us in the right direction. But then when Callie started acting differently, I feel like they thought if they could just control her, put her in enough clubs, get her out of the bed, out of the house, that that would solve everything. It only made it worse. So, now there's just me to control. Me to monitor to make sure I don't end up like Callie, I guess."
"Are you gonna go?"
I shake my head. "There's no need to. No point in it. I've officially decided I'm going to move out. So I think I'll take the opportunity of them being out of the house, waiting for me to come to the therapy appointment, to go and get as much of my things as I can."
Elijah swallows, shifting nervously in his chair. "Yeah, about that. I was wondering, well, I was gonna ask, I mean..."
I have to tuck my lips into my mouth not to smile at his fumbling. What is he so nervous about?
"What is it Elijah?" I ask, tilting my head.
He releases a deep breath. "I'm trying to ask, very horribly, clearly, if you want to move in with me."
I still in my chair, not expecting this at all. "Me move in, here? Into your house?"
I see his Adam's apple bob with his swallow. "Yeah, if you want to. I mean, it's certainly big enough for us and my grandma. And I'm sure she wouldn't mind you living there. But if it's too soon or..."
I shake my head. "Not too soon at all. Yes. Hell yes."
His smile is instant, making the butterflies that never truly disappear around him bloom to life. "Really?"
"Yeah. But I do want you to ask Louise and make sure she's okay with it."
"She will be."
"Still."
"Okay.
I grin. "I could be a horrible roommate."
"Roommate. Hmm. I don't think I like that term. Makes it sound like we're just friends moving into different rooms."
"So what would you prefer?"
"Oh, you know, just lovers agreeing to share a house."
I smile. "Lovers it is. But still I could be a horrible...lover."
He smirks. "Well, I already know that isn't true."
"What a nasty mind you have, Elijah. You know what I mean. Like, I push the toothpaste up from the bottom."
He mock gasps. "No!"
I nod. "And in the summer, I have to still sleep with a blanket, even when it's making me sweat under it."
"Monster."
"And worst of all," I lean forward, lowering my voice. "I sing in the shower. I've been showing incredible restraint not doing it so far in your house."
