REMEMBER

 

 

 

 

 

Patricia Smith

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The following is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in an entirely fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

 

Copyright © 2019 by Patricia Smith

Cover and jacket design by Mimi Bark

 

 

ISBN 978-1-947993-68-6

eISBN: 978-1-947993-91-4

Library of Congress Control Number: tk

 

First trade paperback edition October 2019 by Agora Books

An imprint of Polis Books, LLC

221 River St., 9th Floor, #9070

Hoboken, NJ 07030

www.PolisBooks.com

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 1

 

 

Present Day

 

“My name is Elizabeth Smith. I’m here to help you. I am not going to hurt you.”

She said it slowly, like she was talking to a little kid. I didn’t think she was going to. I just kept staring at her distracting pair of high heels. I’d never met her before, but she looked familiar.

        “So, do you know why you’re here?”

I shook my head. I also didn’t know where here was. I didn’t remember how I got here. I had been with my dad but I didn’t know where he went. According to what I’d seen on television, I was either in jail, the hospital, or a mental institution. The room was normal-looking enough, with a big chair and a sofa. I could tell by looking out the window I was a couple stories high. There was a video camera on a tripod in the middle of the room

“Whenever you’re ready, I want you to tell me what happened.”

        “Where’s my dad?” I didn’t feel like talking. “I need my dad.”

“He’s not here, Portia.”

      “Okay, well, I’m not talking without him. I don’t really know what you want me to say, anyway.”

 “Is that why you need him here?”

       “Are you even allowed to talk to me without a legal adult?”

        “I’m not a police officer, and you are a legal adult. You are twenty-two years old. Do you know that?”

Why would I not know how old I am?

I nodded as I stared at the door.

      “Your dad is not coming through that door.”

“What do you want me to say? The faster I say it, the faster I can see him, right?”

        “Start from the beginning. Tell me about your sister’s play.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Five Years Ago

 

Piper had been cast as Beatrice in Much Ado About Nothing and tonight was opening night at Cypress High. The play was the only thing talked about in our house for the past three months. I was proud of her, she was the only sophomore who had gotten a lead role. But that didn’t mean I wanted to go. Being a senior was hard enough for me without all these outside activities.

Although Piper was my whole world, I hated social situations even more than I loved her. Piper understood, though she was the complete opposite of me. Her world was makeup, attention, boys, parties…I, on the other hand, didn’t want to leave my room, and I didn’t have any friends. Only partners on school projects.

Though I hadn’t gone to a single party in my four years of high school, I often picked her up from them. Piper was so popular, she was always invited to everything. Our parents didn’t care. Mother was way too obsessed with the advertising company she owned. Dad was too obsessed with football and being a stay-at-home dad.

One time, Piper had been too drunk to come out to the car. I sat outside and waited for her for over an hour. Biting my lips, shaking my legs, tapping my fingers against the steering wheel, I kept whispering, “Come on, Piper,” over and over again.  Piper finally called me, crying, asking me to come inside and get her.

She told me exactly where she was.

She told me exactly what turns to take.

She reassured me that I wouldn’t have to speak to a single person.

My little sister was in there, drunk, alone, helpless, and I was stuck in the car, heart racing. No matter how messed up she was, she still knew what she was asking of me was big, and danced around her words delicately, knowing how crippling my anxiety was. She promised to stay on the phone with me the entire way.       It was her sobbing that got me out of the car.

I still can’t believe I did that. Now I’m standing in her doorway years later, watching her curl her hair listening to Britney Spears

“Mom is making me go tonight,” I said, already dressed and ready. With my anxiety, I had to get up two hours before everyone just to get myself to school on time.

“What? We already talked about this. Dad is recording it for you.” She threw down the curling iron. I shrugged my shoulders. “Portia, I’m sorry. Mom can be such a bitch sometimes.” My mom didn’t understand my problem. She refused to get me help, but I didn’t care. Piper was more concerned about me than I was.

           Piper raced downstairs, me trailing behind. “Dad, does Portia have to go tonight?” Oh God. Leave it to Piper to start drama. Leave it to Piper to stand up for me even when I didn’t ask her to.

           “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you tonight.” I rolled my eyes and headed for the door.

           “I thought she wasn’t going. I was going to order her a pizza,” Dad said, pouring a little bit of brandy in his coffee. I smiled at him. He never questioned me. He didn’t really know about disorders and problems, but he knew me better than anyone. He knew there was no way I was going, even though we’d never talked about it.

           “Well, I think she should support her sister. This is a big deal. I really want her to go.” My mother looked at my father like she was about to stab him in the eye.

           “She’s standing right there, Carol.” Dad came over to me and put his hand on my shoulder.

           “I don’t want her to go, how about that?” Piper snapped.

           “I’m going to school.” I stormed off, slamming the door. I knew the three of them were going to have a fight as soon as I left.

They always fought over me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Three Years Ago

 

“Hon, babe, sweetie, are you up? Can you get up?” Something nudged me gently. I could smell gross morning breath overlaid by beer. My dad and alcohol had become even better friends since my mother and my sister died.

It was just us in the house.

It was just us in the world.

We had both started drinking, smoking, and watching television almost twenty-four seven. At least I was taking online classes at UCLA. That had always been part of my plan. Once I graduated high school, I had never wanted to actually go to school again in my life.

 “Dad, I have a test today and I feel like shit. I’m super hungover and need to rest.”

        “Okay, well, need a beer? I’ll get you one. I’m going to be watching the game.”

       “The game? What time is it?”      

       “Two o’clock, honey.”

“Oh shit.” I’d missed my test. My first semester had been easy compared to this year, and now I was going to have to take this class over again. My dad and I had been living off of my mother’s advertising company money. Susan, Mom’s best friend, had taken over after she died. Susan always made sure we were doing okay. I felt like I was letting her down, between the drinking and taking care of my dad, I was failing.

I always wanted things to get better…tomorrow.

My dad plopped down on the couch and lit the last cigarette.

“We bought that carton for the both of us to split.”

      “We are splitting it.”

        “No, you’ve been smoking more than me. I want a cigarette, too.”

       “Here, have this one.”            

       “No.”

“Take it, we’re also out of beer.”

      “I guess that’s what I get for sleeping all day.” I was annoyed, but understood. I had lost my mother and my sister, he had lost his wife and his daughter. And he got left with the daughter with the problems. My guilt numbed my anger toward him. I went over to the couch and he put his arm around me.      

      “I’m sorry. I knew you were going to have a rough morning so I thought I’d let you sleep,” he mumbled in my ear.

“It’s fine. I’ll go to the store tomorrow, okay?”

      For the last year and a half, I’d had to step up. I’d had to get over my social issues, well, not get over them, but push their boundaries. But I was struggling. Dad wouldn’t go out in public. We’d basically switched roles.

            

Even though I’d lived on the same street since I was born, everything looked different after the accident. It was almost winter, no kids were playing in the streets. Even the neighbors looked different, changed somehow. Walking to the store was pleasant, in spite of the occasional stares. I was the girl whose family had died, the one with the father on the edge. If I had been with Piper, she would tell them all to fuck off and mind their own business. I kept my head down and kept walking. The store was only two blocks. I usually did it in ten minutes.

           That day was different.

That day there was a man standing outside the liquor store smoking Marlboro Reds and looking at me. He was cute—dark hair, dark beard, deep, icy blue eyes, rough. I stared back. For the first time, I had something in common with a cute guy, even if it was a bad habit.

           “Would you like one?” he asked, offering the pack. It was the first time in over a year that someone besides Larry and Joseph, the cashiers at the store, had said something to me. I froze for a second, then kept walking. My heart was starting to race. I felt like I was about to have a panic attack.

           “You okay?” Larry greeted.

I nodded, staring outside. The man was still looking at me.

“Is he bothering you?”

I shook my head.

“I got your carton ready; you’re out of beer, too?”

           Larry had known my father for years. He told me how my dad would come in and always talk about me. How he told stories about my mother and Piper too, but talked most about me. The first time I came in here alone, Larry made me feel comfortable. And Joseph was quiet like me; that’s why I took to him.

          “Tell your father I said hello and I miss him.”

           “I will.”

“And hey!” he called out. “You’re a pretty girl, Ms. Willows, you’re going to have to get used to guys hitting on you outside dirty liquor stores.”

I giggled and stepped back out into the afternoon light. The man wasn’t there anymore. I walked home, forgetting about it altogether, until I saw him ahead of me, going into the house across the street.

What the hell? No. No.

There was no way he lived there. I knew who lived there. It was a retired doctor. I didn’t know exactly who it was but I did know it wasn’t this guy. Then he saw me and started walking over.

Jesus! Why?

          “Hey,” he said. His voice was softer this time. He was more of a boy than I’d thought. He didn’t seem intimidating like he did outside the liquor store. I could see he was wearing an SMC shirt underneath his red flannel. He was only two inches taller than me.             “I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He looked down at my bag. “Do you need help?”

I started to lose my grip.  I thought I had gotten used to carrying a twelve-pack of Budweiser and a carton of Marlboro Reds. I shook my head as I struggled. He rushed over and grabbed it out of my hands.

           “May I?” he asked as he took it. He smelled so good, like an Abercrombie and Fitch model or Hollister. I didn’t know the difference. Piper would have been able to tell me. Relieved, I smiled and nodded. He looked up at my house and took a deep breath. I frowned—I should be more nervous than he was. My house was a mess. Why was I letting him in? I didn’t know if my dad was even dressed. The kitchen was really close to the front door. My dad was in the living room. There was no way he would see him but he might hear him.

“Wow. This is a nice house!” He looked around.

I smiled for some reason.

         “Can I ask you something?” he said.

I nodded as I started to put the beer away.

          “Do you live alone? I’m just saying, it’s a big house. You seem really young.” His anxiousness relaxed me.

I shook my head.

           “Oh…okay. That makes sense. I live with my father. Do you know him? My parents are divorced. I was living with my mom in Florida and then after high school, I decided to go to college out here. Nice neighborhood. Do you go to school?”

It wasn’t that nice of a neighborhood, but whatever.

I nodded.

          “Okay, well…my name is Ethan. It was nice to meet you.”

I smiled and walked him to the door. I mumbled, “I’m Portia. I live with my dad, too. It’s nice to meet you.” I shut the door behind him.

What had just happened?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 2

 

 

I couldn’t stop thinking about Ethan. I wondered why he had helped me. Piper always told me boys only want one thing, and once you give it to them, they get mean. But when she had gotten her first boyfriend, she took it back. I wanted to see Ethan again, but I had no idea how. I guessed I could stare out my window and wait for him to come outside, but that would be weird.

“You don’t like this movie, do you?”

“I have class, Dad. I’m trying to study.”

“We’ll watch it when you’re done.”

“Dad…I don’t really care about Rebel Without a Cause.”

“Your mother never liked it either.”      

“Well, at least we had one thing in common.”

“You guys had a lot in common.”

“Like what?”      

“You reminded her of the things she didn’t like about herself. But those things were the very things I loved about her.”

“Is that why she hated me so much? I wish every day that she could have loved me for at least a day before she died.”      

“She loved you. She loved Piper. She loved me. But she didn’t know how to show it. She didn’t express her feelings to any of us.       You weren’t the exception. Well, you were always the exception to me.”

“I love you, Daddy.”

      “I love you.”

He never said, “I love you, too.” He felt like that meant he loved me less, or that he only said it because I said it first. He loved me the same as I loved him.      

There was a knock at the door. We both jumped. There hadn’t been an unexpected knock on the door in years. Grandma came by sometimes, but I always knew about it ahead of time so             I could help her out of the car.

I ran upstairs and looked out my window.

It was Ethan.

I stood there for five minutes hoping he’d go away, even though I wanted to see him. Realizing my mistake, I ran down the stairs, mustered up what little courage I had, and opened the door just as he started walking away.

“You are home!” His smile lit up his entire face, and I swear it made his eyes sparkle. Remember, I don’t get out much. I stuck up one finger and nodded. He smiled again. 

Oh my God.

I went to grab two beers and a pack of cigarettes.

“Uh, for real?” he asked as I held up a beer. He didn’t stop smiling and I could not stop staring.

We sat on the swinging bench Piper and I used to play on when we were kids. I had never wanted to go to the park. I had never wanted to play with the other kids or leave the house. Mom would make me go outside once a day, but I refused to go past the porch. Piper always made sure I wasn’t alone.

Sitting on the bench without her, I felt like I was about to cry, but tried to hold it together. My throat was closing. I sucked down my beer so I could breathe again.

“Your dad lets you drink?”

I nodded. I liked his voice. I could just listen to him all day.

“My dad would kill me. He’s very strict.”

I cast a worried look at his door. We were outside. His dad could see him.

“Don’t worry. He’s not home. I got kind of lonely, thought I would ask if you wanted to come out and play.” We both giggled.

       “You should smile more.”

I immediately put my hand to my lips.

“I’m just saying. You don’t have to.”

My heart started to race and I chugged more beer. I should have gotten us more.

“Budweiser, eh?”

         “It’s my dad’s favorite,” I said. “I hated it when I was a kid. I hated the smell when he would kiss me goodnight.” I was about to tell Ethan a story but he was staring at me weird. “What?”

“I like the sound of your voice.”

        “I like the sound of yours.”

       “I can get annoying.”

We both laughed.

We talked for what felt like hours. I told him a lot about Piper, and he told me about his family. His dad was a retired psychologist who worked at my old high school as a counselor.

“Do you miss your mom?” I asked.

“Sometimes, but I call her every day.”

I nodded as I looked down.

“How long has it been?”

“A year and nine months and twelve days. I miss Piper more than anything. I miss my mom…sometimes. I think what I miss most is their voices.”

  “The voice is the first thing everyone forgets about someone after they pass.”

  “Not me. My mother yelled at me way too much for me to ever forget her voice. Piper still gives me advice in my head all the time, mainly on how to take care of Dad.”      

“What would Piper say about me?”

     “That you would make a great first…friend.”

     “I don’t know why I’m so intrigued by you.”

“The whole neighborhood talks about me. I know your father wanted to talk to me when I was in high school but I never went, so I can’t even imagine what you’ve heard.”

“You’re the only other person near my age on this block, plus you’re pretty.”

     “Pretty?”

He nodded. “Yes. Is that weird for me to say?”

     “Are you trying to get in my pants?”

     “No. I mean. No. I’m sorry!”

“It’s okay, I was just making sure. Do you want another beer?”

I had never talked so much to someone who wasn’t family. Once I started, it seemed I couldn’t stop. There was so much relief. I loved talking to my dad. This was something different. Piper would have been so proud of me. I wanted her to be there to scream and ask me a million questions until I would tell her to calm down.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Seven Years Ago

 

         “Portia! Portia!” It was eleven on a Saturday night. Dad was out at a bar with his friends. Mom was away on a business trip. I had been sleeping. Piper had been out with her friends. I woke up in a panic.

           “Are you okay? What happened? What’s wrong?”      

“I kissed a boy!” She had been twelve years old.

My first kiss wouldn’t be until I was nineteen.            

   “What?”      

      “It was amazing. I did it and then he stuck his tongue down my throat.” She started laughing.

        “Gross,” I said.

       “It was, kind of, but when he did it, I thought I was going to choke so I told him to stop.”

“How old is he?”      

“I don’t know…he’s in the eighth grade.”

        “And he shoved his tongue in like on TV?” My eyes widened.      

       “Yeah, I told him I didn’t like that. So we kept kissing but without the tongue.”

Disgusted, I couldn’t hear any more.      “Mom and Dad are going to kill you.”

        “They’ll never know. It was so much fun.”

“Piper, you’re twelve, you’re just a baby.”

         “No, I’m not. I’m a woman now. I feel so much older and more experienced. I can’t wait to tell everyone at school.”

          “You’ll be really popular.”

           “I know! I’m going to text everyone, you can go back to sleep.”

          “I’ll do my best.”

She giggled and walked out of the room.

After that, I started to look up to her. She was younger than me.       She was a sassy little thing, but I wanted so badly to be her. She inspired me. I tried to get out there. I tried to change for her. When I couldn’t, she never said anything, but I saw how it affected her, and it hurt. She never knew the guilt I felt for not being the sister she’d always wanted.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Three Years Ago

 

“Who’s your new friend?”

“Ethan. He lives across the street. We only had a few beers.”

“It’s good you’re making friends, but I swear, Portia, if you’re making more runs to the store than usual, he’s going to have to chip in. Beer is not cheap.”

“Dad. Relax. It was one time. I’ll probably never see him again.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I’m too busy taking care of you…speaking of, what’s for dinner?”

“Spaghetti. I don’t think I did it right, though.”

I went into the kitchen and froze: the sink piled high with dirty dishes. A box of pasta was half-spilled onto the table. Dried sauce stuck to the stovetop. Empty beer cans scattered haphazardly around a stack of unopened mail. Somehow, there was red sauce on my shirt.

“Dad—”

“Yeah, I gave up. There are some TV dinners in the freezer; just pop one of those in the microwave and bam, four minutes later, dinner.”

“Cool…but pasta is not as cheap as it used to be.” I winked at him.

“We should clean the house tomorrow.”

“Yeah.”

 

Dad and I lived a pretty boring life. Fall television season was starting, my favorite time of year. We had something new to watch every single night. On Saturdays, we would watch a movie. During the day, he watched sports and I watched Lifetime movies. That was it.

Between the two of us, we smoked a pack and drank six beers a day.

I missed my sister and my mother, but this became a comfortable, familiar routine. I felt no pressure to go out and meet people. I was going to school, which I loved—online classes Monday through Wednesday, from one to six. I could understand why outsiders might be worried, but at the end of the day, it was none of their business.

Still, I was struggling. I needed to get the book for a class I was barely passing; I thought I would be able to get through the class without it. But getting it meant going to UCLA in person. I was dreading it. But I had an idea.

I invited Ethan over.

“I need your help with something,” I said, grabbing him a beer.

“What is it?”

“I go to school online…”

“SMC?”

“No. I thought about it, but my mom had a trust fund for me and then when she died, my dad wanted me to use most of the money on school, so I go to UCLA”

“What? No way. You got in?”

“I got in a few places. Piper wanted me to pick UCLA mainly because she heard the guys were hot.” I giggled. “Anyway, I always knew I was going to do online classes.”

“So, you only do online classes?”      

“Yes.”

“That’s cool. Now I know you’ll always be home.”

“Or at the liquor store.” I giggled.

“How can I help? I only go to community college. You are obviously way smarter than me.”

“Don’t say that. I just need a book from school. In situations like this…before, Piper would help me.”

“I don’t get it.”

“I can’t go to campus. There’s no way. I can barely go to the convenience store. I can walk a block but I can’t…” I started to choke up. I had to stop talking because I didn’t know how to explain my problem. I’d never had to before. My family just knew. My family did the explaining for me. I hated this. Embarrassed, I chugged the beer.

“I’ll be right back.” I went to get another. I opened the fridge and stuck my head in, taking deep breaths. I got down on my knees.

“Are you okay?” He startled me.

“Yeah, sorry.” I popped up and shut the fridge.

“I can get the book for you if you want. I can even pick up some beer and smokes for you guys—you know, make an errand out of it?”

“Why would you do that?”

“I don’t know…I thought that’s what you were getting at.”

“I just need help. I can’t explain why I can’t do it on my own.”

“You mean like a ride?”

“Sure, yeah, that’s what I mean.”

“You want to go right now?”

“After this beer…” I wanted to down two more before we left, but my dad would notice.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 3

 

 

The last time I’d been in a car, it had been my mother’s and Piper’s funeral. I just remember clinging to my dad. He’d made sure no one talked to me, made sure everyone stayed away. It must have been so hard for him to take care of me when he was going through so much pain himself.

“I know it’s not the fanciest car in the world but—”

“It’s fine. I don’t care what kind of car you have. I just appreciate you taking me.”

“It’s okay. I like your company.” He put his hand lightly on my thigh. “Seriously, I’m happy to help.”

I smiled as we drove off.

We lived about thirty minutes away from the school. If I had been a normal girl, I thought, I would be making this drive every day. I would go to class. I would get called on. It was impossible, though. I was just thankful I could take online classes.

“What are you thinking about?”

I hadn’t said a word since we’d gotten in the car. He hadn’t either. He played music—country. It was soothing.

“My dad likes country.”

“Yeah?”

I nodded.

“Who does he like?”

“Randy Travis. George Strait. I don’t know. Kenny Rogers. Just the other day, we were listening to ‘Alice’s Restaurant’ by Arlo Guthrie. That’s our favorite song. It’s always on. You would think I would get tired of it but it’s just background music to me now.”

He laughed. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“What do you listen to?”

“I listen to newer stuff like Luke Bryan, Blake Shelton, and Hunter Hayes.”

“Okay, so pop country.”

“But I like my indie electronic, too—The Knife.”

“Hmm. What do you do for fun?”

I had never been asked that. I would have never ever thought I would be in a situation where someone would ask me that.

“What? Is that a stupid question?”

“I hate talking about myself and I don’t want you to get angry and not take me to get the book.”

“I’m pretty sure whatever you have to tell me won’t stop me from taking you. Come on, we already talked a lot about me, and I know everything about Piper. Tell me something about you, Portia.”

I looked out the window and lit a cigarette. “Do you mind?”

“Nah, I smoke in the car all the time. But don’t change the subject.”

“I have a social anxiety disorder. I was ten when I got diagnosed. But my family didn’t know how to deal with it. My sister was the only one who tried to get me help. It felt nice to know there were other people out there like me, but it also sucked to know that I would never get to meet them.”

He stared blankly into my eyes and then onto the road. It felt like a whole two minutes before he began to speak.

“That’s what you meant when you said you needed help?”

nodded.

“I thought you just needed a ride. Wow. Okay. That’s cool.”

“It’s not.”

“A chick that smokes Marlboro Reds and can down a six-pack in thirty minutes.” He looked over at me. “That’s fucking cool.”

“You think so?”

“Doesn’t matter what disorder you have, I like you.”

We were pulling into the parking lot of the university. This one was bigger than the one at the high school, and it was full of people. I hadn’t been at a school in two years. The last day of high school had been the best day of my life. I thought I would never have to do that again, but here I was, at UCLA. I braced myself for a panic attack.

He parked. I couldn’t talk. I couldn’t move. I just sat there staring. There were so many people. My body reacted like I was about to get attacked by each one of them. Any minute, all those people were going to surround the car.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

He should not have said that.

I didn’t think I’d ever be ready. I shook my head and started looking for my phone. There had to be a way he could just get the book for me.

“I have to call…I have to…” I was rocking in the passenger seat. It was so hot. I started to roll down the window but then I heard everyone outside and quickly rolled it back up. I turned away from him, not wanting him to see me like this. I would have never asked him if I knew it was going to be this bad.

“Let me find where the bookstore is. I can try and get closer.” He pulled away. I started to relax.

“I’ll just drop this class. I don’t really need it. It’s the only class that requires a book. Just take me home.”

He ignored me and kept driving around the school.

“Just take me home!” I screamed.

“Okay, okay…”

“Wait. I’m sorry. I’m going to call the bookstore and see if you can just go get the book for me.” I needed to relax. I made this guy drive all the way over here. He was being so nice to me. I could do this.

“I can go in with you, Portia. I can talk for you. I can do everything for you. I won’t leave you.” He put his hand on my thigh again. “Just breathe, let’s take a minute. Let’s just find the closer parking lot. Sit in the car. Smoke another cigarette. Talk, relax, and if you want to go home, then I’ll take you home.”

Why was he being so nice? What was in it for him? We had talked about his life. We had talked about everything. He didn’t have any problems. He was a normal guy. I didn’t understand why he was being so nice to me.

I wanted to get this over with. He pulled over. He was looking at the map on his phone. I was trying to call the bookstore.

“Hi,” I began, “my name is Portia Willows. I’m a student. I was wondering if I gave a friend my student ID if he could buy the book for me.”

“Hang up. Hang up,” Ethan said.

“Uh, never mind, I guess.” I hung up and looked up at him, puzzled.

“Look, we can see the bookstore from here. It is a little bit of a walk but there’s not a lot of people around, see?”

“Uh-huh, but what if class lets out or something?”

“We’ll be in and out in five minutes. You know the book?”

“Yes.”

“Let’s go.”

He got out. Holy shit. Is this really happening? He opened the door for me. I looked around. I took one foot out of the car. He reached out his hand to me.

“Grab it, it’s okay.” I took his hand. “Do you think you would feel more comfortable if my arm is around you?”

“Nice one. Let’s go.” I jokingly pushed him away and walked ahead of him. I was confident for all of two seconds. The quad didn’t seem too terrifying. It was extremely quiet. I heard the birds in the trees. I felt fine. I could do this. Where we had been before, though, was intense, a bunch of kids with backpacks walking the streets. It was near the hospital too, so there were crowds and crowds of people. I looked down and kept walking, all the way to the bookstore.

“How long have you been going here?”

“For about a year in a half. I came once with my grandma and I never looked back.” I opened the door. The noise almost knocked me down. No wonder no one was out there. Everyone was in this bookstore. I immediately turned around, but Ethan blocked me. He put a hand on each shoulder and turned me back around.

“Don’t leave me,” I cried. He put his arm around me, which I needed. I put my face into his chest. It was warm and comforting. I knew I would have a panic attack if he let go of me.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered in my ear. “Do you know where the book is?”

“I think so.”

“Just focus on where you have to go, get it, walk to the cashier, and then out.” I felt his beard on my ear as he spoke.

“Okay.”

“Don’t make eye contact with anyone. Don’t look at anyone. Don’t worry about what anyone else is doing. I’m right here. We’re good.”

I found the aisle. I got the book, I stepped away from him. He looked at me and smiled.

“There’s a long line to check out,” he said.

“Can we stay in this empty aisle until the line goes down?”

He laughed. “I wish that was how lines worked.”

“I don’t do lines.”

“No one does lines. You don’t need a disorder to hate lines. If you want a couple minutes, that’s fine, but the line is not going to get shorter the longer you wait; it will only get longer.” He was right. I was the one who went to UCLA and he went to SMC.

I was acting like an idiot.

“Let’s just go. I wish we could steal this book. We should just make a run for it.”

He put his hands on my shoulder and massaged them gently.                   “You’re doing great,” he whispered.

Standing in line, my heart was pounding. I was just looking at everyone. Everyone was in this line—Asians, Caucasians, black people, Latinos. There was so much diversity in this one line. The whole world was like this. I’d been stuck in my room my entire life. This was what other people were used to. I saw my sister everywhere. Every girl who would talk to another girl reminded me of her.

“All these girls…Piper would have loved this school.”

“Can you imagine what Piper would say right now?”

“Let’s say she was at home and I was here and I called her, she would be screaming and jumping around the entire room. She had enough energy for the entire family. She sucked up all of our energy. She was so small and so free.” He was smiling. “Sorry, you’re probably so tired of hearing about Piper.”

“Never. I’m just glad I got you talking.”

“You got me waiting in line.”

He hugged me. I was scared at first. Then I was comfortable. For the first time I felt completely okay. I didn’t want him to let go—until it felt like everyone’s eyes were on us, like I was doing something wrong. I wiggled my arms, so he let go. I was looking down but I felt his eyes on me.

He was trying to figure me out.

As soon as we paid, I made a beeline for the car.

“Race ya?”

He started to run. I was pretty sure he let me win.

“You know how many people are staring at us right now?” He laughed.

“Because you’re so slow. Hurry, slowpoke. Get in the car.” We hopped in the car, laughing.

“Drive. Drive. Get the hell out of here. Oh my God,” I said, smiling. I couldn’t believe it. I was so happy. I couldn’t wait to tell my dad, but I also couldn’t wait to be back in my comfort zone. This was the craziest thing I’d ever done.

“Breathe. We did it.” He smiled at me.

“We did it. Thank you, I have no idea how to thank you, like, no idea.”

“Hang out with me again.”

I would have—should have—said no. He was too nice. He was too into me. There had to be something wrong, but I thought back to that hug while we were in line.

“Piper would have loved you. My dad is going to love you. What you did for me today is a really big deal. I hope you know that. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.”

“Sounds like you’re trying to get rid of me.”

“No, no, of course not.” I touched his arm.

“When do I get to meet your dad?”

The air got cold. My chest got tight. The way he looked at me was like he never wanted to leave me.

I liked it. It scared me.

“Whenever you want. Eh, not really. I’ll let you know when he’s in a good mood.”

He nodded as he continued to drive.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 4

 

Five Years Ago

 

Monday through Friday, at six forty-five a.m., I woke up in a panic. You’d think I would have gotten used to it after seventeen years. Instead, it just got worse. In the shower, I would try to get my bones to stop feeling numb. My hands would shake brushing my teeth. Makeup was out of the question. Getting dressed was a process. I didn’t mind too much about what I wore—it was one step closer to having to enter my nightmare. Piper started sneaking me Mom’s anti-anxiety medication because she thought it would help. It did, and mom just doubled her prescription once she found out.       Mom would never have allowed me go to therapy—that would have meant admitting she’d raised a fucked-up child.

I walked to school with headphones on. It was a normal day for me. At lunch, Piper met up with me in the library. It was the opening night of her play. I thought for sure she would be going around telling everyone about it, even though she didn’t need to. Everyone was going. Everyone loved Piper. They would have gone just to see her.

“Hey.”

“What are you doing here? It’s the library. You have to be quiet.”

“I am being quiet,” she said loudly.

“See…you think you are because you’re not aware of your own voice. You naturally have a high tone so you have to try extra hard to be quiet.”

“Okay, shut up. I came to tell you that after you left we all agreed you don’t have to go tonight.”

“Really? I can go, Piper. Mom has made me do worse things. This isn’t the worst.”

“That’s not the point. The point is that Mom needs to respect your decisions. Anyway, I’d love to spend all of lunch with you, but…I don’t think my voice tone will allow it.” She smirked and I giggled at her silliness. “After school, I have to go straight to hair and makeup, then dress rehearsal…”

“So, I won’t see you until tonight, I know. Good luck.” I was so proud of her, truly.

“Love you. Dad is buying you the good pizza, save me a piece.”       She kissed my forehead. I pushed her away because people were starting to stare. I really wished I could go. I mean, I wished I could do a lot of things I couldn’t.

Not being there for her that night was the only one I was going to have to feel guilty about for the rest of my life.

 

No one was home when I got there—just the way I liked it, but I wondered where Dad was. I was fixing myself something to eat when the door flung open.

“Anyone here?” Dad yelled.

“Just me,” I yelled from the kitchen.

“Oh good, my favorite.” He kissed me on the cheek and handed me the mail.

“You have to stop saying that.”

“What? Piper knows how much I love her.”

“College brochures…great.” I rolled my eyes as I flipped through all the different UCs.

“Mom will probably be working so I can take you to any campus you want.”

“I’m good. What time are you guys leaving tonight?”

“The play starts at eight. I don’t know. To be honest, I don’t think your mother is going to make it…”

“Is that why she wanted me to go so badly? So it wouldn’t look awful that she’d skipped? Jesus, that woman.” I loved my mother, I really did, but sometimes I hated her. No, I hated the way she acted but I loved her as a mother. She spent so much time judging me for my issues that she didn’t look at her own.       She didn’t appreciate my dad as much as she should. Sometimes, it felt like she loved her job more than us. We all noticed, and I really didn’t think she cared.

“I don’t care. You’re not going. She is. I don’t care if I have to pick her up from her office myself and drag her out of there. Is there any beer?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Three Years Ago

 

“Look in the fridge, Dad.”

“Why?”

“Ethan bought us a twenty-four pack…”

“Why? What did you do? Has he been in your room, Portia Willows?” he said, getting fake angry.

“Dad, grab a beer and calm down.”

“I’m just saying, I only bought women beer when I was…”

“Ew. Gross. Dad…I can’t right now. I haven’t even hugged a boy. Why would you think…?”

I smiled to myself since this was actually a lie.

“I know. Just be careful.”

“You should be nice. We’re not doing too well with money.       We’re paying all the bills but the mortgage is a struggle.”

“I thought Susan dealt with all that.”

“Susan has five kids and a cheating husband. Remember how hard Mom worked? She only had two kids. Can you imagine?”

“What do you want me to do, babe?”

“Cut down. We both should, actually. It’s been over a year. We can’t use this as an excuse anymore.”

“Oh. Was that what we were doing? Because I thought I was living my life the way I always have, except this time I don’t have anyone nagging me about it.”

“Before you were a functionally great alcoholic father,” I laughed, “because of Mom, now I’m just making you an alcoholic.” At the end of the day, we both needed Mom. Dad needed her more than I did, but I was barely functioning without Piper. It was all so sad that we just had to laugh about it.

It was so much easier studying for class with an actual book. I started looking into other ways to do better, but the only thing I could find was study groups—fuck that. Sometimes teachers held study groups on campus. They were only four times a semester, around test time. I didn’t think I’d be able to do that. Plus, I hated driving.

“Do you want to go to a bar tonight? Like a dive bar?” Dad asked. Ever since the accident, my dad had lost all of his drinking buddies. It had hit him pretty hard. He was literally stuck with me. Part of me knew it was a rhetorical question, but I also knew this was one of those moments when he was really missing his friends.

“If you really want to…” He was walking into the kitchen. I heard the footsteps stop.

“What?”

I was really hoping he wasn’t going to make me go, so I kept reading and taking notes.

“Did you just say yes?” Dad came back and plopped down on the couch next to me, messing up all my papers.

“Dad! Watch it…”

“You want to go to a bar, Portia?”

“I said if you really want to go…”

“Wait…I keep thinking you’re twenty-one, you can’t go.”

“You used to take Piper and me to bars all the time when Mom was on business trips.”

“That’s because you guys were under ten and I worked there. You guys drank cranberry juice.” He smiled at me while tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

“I remember being on my knees, looking over and watching the cranberry juice squirt out of the gun. I thought that was the coolest thing in the world.”

“You stayed next to me and watched everything. Piper…I couldn’t get that girl to relax. She played with everything and everyone.”

“The only reason she kept it a secret from Mom was so you’d take us again.”

“I thought she was going to grow up to be an alcoholic.” We both laughed. Neither of us was going anywhere and he knew that, he just liked to talk about it to seem normal.

 

Ethan and I were on the porch again. I suddenly realized how old the bench looked. There was nothing romantic about this. Did I want it to look romantic? I wasn’t sure. I found myself putting way too much thought into us hanging out on my porch with a couple of beers and smokes.

“I was thinking…I want to take you to the beach,” Ethan said, grinning like he was wasted but he’d only had two sips of his first beer.

“It’s September…”

“The beach never closes, Portia.”

“It doesn’t?” I’d never really thought about it before.

“Are you serious? You’ve never been to the beach?” His eyes widened like he couldn’t wait to take me.

Yeah, not happening. “I don’t like being around people, what makes you think I’d like being around people half naked?”

“What about Piper?”

“She only went during the summer.”

“I guess coming from Florida, I went to the beach every day.”      

“That sounds nice. Were you happy?” I was trying to change the subject.

“I don’t know. I mean, I had fun. I went out every day, but I don’t miss anyone besides my mom. It just makes you think…”

“You think you’d miss me if I died?” It just came out of my mouth. For the first time I’d said out loud what I was thinking. I’d only ever done that with my dad and Piper. I hadn’t even done it with my own mother. He stared into my eyes and I looked down, mortified.

“This is why I don’t talk.”

“It was a legit question.” He still seemed taken aback by it. “We barely know each other and yet I feel closer to you than I felt to any of my friends back home that I’ve known my whole life.”

“Why is that? We don’t do anything.”

“We talk, and there’s literally not one distraction between us.” He looked around. It was a ghost town. The only thing we could hear was my loud television coming from inside the house and the birds chirping. It was a nice day.

“What do you mean?” I knew what it meant but I wanted to hear him say it. I wanted validation.

“It’s just us. All you see is me and all I see is you. There’s no social media, waiters, friends, parents…”

“I can tell that your parents’ divorce affected you a lot.” I wanted him to tell me more about his past.

“You’re so random.” He shook his head and smiled.

“And you really don’t like talking about it,” I said, hoping to get him to open up.

“I just wish my family was whole…”

My eyes started to water because no matter how bitchy my mom was to me, I missed her judgmental looks. I missed our family dinners even though I had hated them. We had been together—not a lot of people got to have that. That stupid accident had ruined everything. It broke us apart. Now we would never all be together ever again. The more I thought about it, the more I broke down crying.

“I’m so sorry…” I said, wiping my tears.

“No, I’m sorry. Come here.” He grabbed my shoulders and put my head on his chest. I was so weirded out by the touching that I stopped crying. I wanted to get up but didn’t. We just swung in silence.

“Is your dad going to come out here with a shotgun?”

“He doesn’t own a gun, and he definitely doesn’t know how to use one.”

“Well, that’s good to know.”

“But he is worried that you only want one thing…” I said.

“I do only want thing…”

I jumped up.

“…for you to be happy,” he finished.

“Are we friends?” I mumbled.

“I hope so.”

“Good, because I look at you like I want to kiss you, but I don’t know what kissing means. I don’t know…a lot.”

“Why do you want to kiss me?” He backed away from me, just a little.

“I don’t know, but Piper would know, so without her, we’re just friends.” Yikes.

“If Piper was here, what do you think she’d say?”

“She’d tell me to stick my tongue down your throat and grab your junk.” We both busted up laughing.

“She was forward.”

“So forward. She lost her virginity at fifteen, and Mom put her on birth control for her sweet sixteen. You’re the only boy I’ve ever hugged,” I said.

“I like hugging you.” He smiled as I hugged him.

I wondered why.

 

For dinner, Dad made chili with Parmesan cheese, salsa, and crackers. It sounded disgusting when he was explaining it to me in the kitchen, but it actually wasn’t that bad.

“What do you want to drink?”

I looked at him, super confused. We always drank beer. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner. “What you want to drink?” was never a question.

“We’ve got to cut down, right?”

“Do we even have anything else?”

“Water.”

“Ugh.”

“I know. Your idea.”

“Pour me some water, Dad.” There was nothing on television so we ate at the dining room table. We hadn’t sat there in a while. It was awkward. He sat in his usual spot and I sat in mine. I kept staring at Mom’s and Piper’s chairs. Piper would have been texting. Mom would have been talking on her phone while slamming down the dishes.

“Drinking this, I feel like your mother is here,” Dad said.

“Let’s not have it for breakfast. Like, as soon as we wake up, maybe we drink orange juice, or just coffee?”

My dad stared at me. He stopped eating, stopped drinking.

“Does it really sound that bad?”

“No, you just suddenly reminded me so much of your mother.”

I put the fork down my throat and gagged.

“You know, you didn’t always hate her. There was a time when you wanted only her. I couldn’t make you stop crying. She had the special touch.”

I hated talking about the past.

“I came out of her vagina, Dad. Every mother has ‘that special touch’. She always had it. She just…didn’t know how to use it.” I finished my plate and got up.

“Hating her may be helping you grieve for her, but she was still my wife. I miss lying next to her every night.”

“Yeah, but I bet you don’t miss having sex with her because it never really happened.”

Dad slammed down his water. “That’s enough, Portia!”

I grabbed a beer. Fuck it.

I went into my room and cried for hours before I took out the box of letters—I hadn’t looked at them in six months. When Piper and Mom died, I didn’t know what I was supposed to do. I couldn’t feel anything. I couldn’t feel tears. I couldn’t feel like they were actually gone. So I wrote them letters. I wrote one every single day for a week. Then Dad introduced me to beer and cigarettes. Suddenly, I didn’t need to write letters anymore.

 

Dear Mom,

I can’t believe you’re actually gone. I refuse to believe it.

 

Actually, I’d rather be drinking beer than reading sad letters. Actually, I’d rather be hanging out with Ethan. So, I texted him. I saw that his name had jumped up above Piper’s in my message list. I freaked out and deleted it. I went downstairs. A few minutes later, there was a knock at the door.

“It’s pretty late, Portia.”

“Now who’s sounding like Mom.” I went into the living room—Dad had had five beers. “So much for cutting down.” I grabbed two from the fridge.

“Don’t you have a friend at the door?” he said as I rolled my eyes.

I went to the door and saw Ethan, his hands in his pockets. He didn’t have a jacket on.

“You okay? It’s late.” He sounded worried.

“Let’s go to my room.” I grabbed his arm and took him upstairs, glaring at my dad. He just continued downing the beers.

“How many have you had?” Ethan asked.

“Just one.” I threw him on the bed.

“Portia…what’s all this?”

I had left the letters on the bed. I grabbed them, threw them in the box and then threw the box in the trash. His facial expression never changed. He just looked confused.

“What?” I snapped.

“What happened? Where’s your dad?” He still had this puppy dog look on his face.

“You didn’t see him in the living room?”

“He was in the living room?” Ethan raised his eyebrows at me.

“It’s okay. He doesn’t care you’re here.”

Ethan got up off the bed. “Let’s talk.”

“We talk all the time. What else do you want to talk about? The weather?”

“Yeah…it’s really hot today. It’s like it’s summer. You wanna go to the beach?”

“It’s cold.” Ethan was acting so strange that I just decided to drink. I opened another beer.

“I don’t think you should have another one.” Ethan grabbed my beer. I looked at him like he was insane.

“Do you know how much beer I drink in one day?” I said. I was being myself, I was being open. I was letting this guy into my life—into my room. And he honestly thought I was drunk.       

“I know I’m acting weird. You’ve never seen this side of me. No one has. I’m not drunk. I’m just letting you in.” I put my hand on his thigh. People did that in movies. It seemed appropriate. He looked at the box and then he looked at me.

I kissed him.

I did it.

It was slow. There was no tongue—just four lips that somehow fit together. I stayed pressed against his lips, wondering how this was working scientifically. He moved, and I moved mine as well. I didn’t get it. Why did this feel nice? His lips were so soft—mine were chapped. I could smell my beer. He put his hand on my cheek. It literally felt like everything was happening in slow motion. I stopped and touched my lips.

“How was that for your first kiss?” he whispered, inches away from my face.

“My heart is racing.” I put my hand on my chest.

“Let’s just relax.” His other hand appeared on my shoulder and he laid me down. He was right next to me. We talked for a while but I couldn’t remember anything we talked about—just the way we kissed.

I woke up to a familiar smell, but it was a forgotten one. It was eight a.m. I was getting ready to roll over and go back to sleep but thoughts of what happened last night kept clouding my brain. I got up and peed and then I heard someone downstairs.       There was a smell coming from my kitchen. It was so quiet, but I heard pans clinking.

“Dad?” There was no way my dad would be up, especially after how hammered he had been last night. I went to his room. He was knocked out.

It was Ethan.

Cooking.

In my kitchen.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” He said it so nonchalantly.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing? My dad is upstairs.”

“I was hoping I could meet him…and the best way to impress a girl’s father is with food.”

“That’s a lot of food. You cooked enough for my whole family, but they’re dead,” I said sternly.

“Well, we don’t have to eat it all. Is your dad still sleeping?”

Why did he want to meet my dad so badly?

“Yeah, he got pretty messed up last night. Look, um…I know you probably just got here, but I need you to go. I don’t want my dad to get the wrong idea.”

“Portia. I spent the night.” He dropped his spatula or whatever utensil he was using and turned off the burners. I looked at the French toast, the eggs, the pancakes, the coffee. He’d spent the night? And then he made my family breakfast? Where the hell was Piper? She would be having a field day.

Then I remembered again. I put my hand over my eyes and my heart constricted.

“Portia…Portia…I’m sorry. I overstepped. We didn’t do anything last night. We fell asleep. I got thirsty this morning, and when I went to get water, I saw you guys didn’t have any food in the house. I thought…I’m stupid. I shouldn’t have stayed.”

I tried to get myself together while he talked.

“Thank you. My dad and I will eat all of this, but you really need to go.”

He nodded. I walked him to the door and watched him walk across the street. In the middle, he looked back at me.

I walked away and looked at all the food. Who the hell was going to do all these dishes? I grabbed as much food as I could and put it on a tray. I made two coffees and grabbed one beer—just in case.

“Daddy?” I gently kicked his door open.

“Mmm…” I put the tray at the edge of Mom’s side of the bed and crawled over to him.

“Dad…wake up, wake up.”

“Who died? Good morning.” He pinched my cheek like he used to when I was five.

“I made you breakfast.” I got out of the way so he could see. He looked at it, and then looked at me. I was trying so hard not to laugh, because if it wasn’t so early, he would have never believed that I cooked.

“There’s even more downstairs.”

“Who made this?”

Darn.

“Um, Ingrid brought it over.” Ingrid was our neighbor. When it all first happened, Ingrid made everything for us. Then she stopped. It might have been because of me.

“Well, that was nice of her. I thought she hated you.”

“She probably does, but she always loved you.”

He started scarfing down the food. I took my coffee and walked downstairs.

“I haven’t been up this early in so long,” I yelled up at him.

“Go back to sleep. I am,” he yelled back.

 

By the time I finished cleaning the kitchen and the house, it was time for class. I never had so much trouble focusing as I did today. I kept thinking about why Ethan had stayed and if I snored. I kept thinking about what if my dad came to check on me while I was sleeping—he used to do that. I needed to set boundaries with Ethan. I should never have let him in my room.

My dad came downstairs.

“How’s it going?”

“Fine.”

“Are you seeing your friend today?” he asked.

“No, I saw him yesterday. I have a lot of work to do today. I’m going to take a nap before Lethal Weapon.”

“I’ll make sure I wake you up in time, unlike Sunday when you let me sleep through the first five minutes of Preacher.” He giggled.

“I couldn’t wake you up to save Mom’s life.”

We both laughed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 5

 

 

Six Years Ago                  

                        

“Willows.” I looked up. It was drama class. I hadn’t known what elective to take. My mom thought this was the perfect class for me. I didn’t fight her on it because I didn’t know that drama meant acting. I thought it was like film, dramatic arts. I’d had no idea what       I was getting myself into.

It was the first day of my junior year. The teacher called on everyone, asked them to tell a joke and then tell the class something about themselves.

I panicked.

“Can I pass?” I mumbled.

“No. This isn’t homework, Portia. It’s just for fun.”

“I know…but can I pass?”

Everyone was staring at me. My hands got sweaty and I felt dehydrated. Uncomfortable would be an understatement. I started shifting in my seat.

“Okay, no joke, then. Tell me something about yourself.”

“I don’t like talking in front of people.”

Everyone started whispering.

Tears started to form in my eyes. I hated high school. I knew       I was almost done, but I really felt like I was ready to give up.       I wanted to go home and never come back. My mom was just going to have to disown me. My father would bring me cheese while I lived underneath the freeway.

“This is drama class—all you will be doing in here is talking, acting, and being vulnerable in front of people. Not just people—your peers, your classmates. We’re a family in this class.”

I coughed and started getting my stuff together.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“I’m in the wrong class.”

“Your name is on my roster.”      

“Definitely a mistake.”

I walked out while all the kids were talking. I walked off campus to a nearby park, then lay in the grass and texted Piper. I lay there until the bell rang.

 

Family dinner that night was awkward. Piper wouldn’t shut up about how amazing her day was and how excited she was about it since the school was also a block away from the mall.

Mom was all smiles.

Dad wanted to hear something else, anything else.      

“Portia…anything worth mentioning about your day today?”

I took a sip of my water and a deep breath. Mom was smiling at me. She never really smiled, so I remember every time she did.

“I dropped out of a class because the teacher wanted me to tell a joke.”

Her smile disappeared. The intense stare I was so scared of surfaced.

      I just looked over at Piper.

“What?” she asked.

“First, it’s drama class. Why would you sign me up for drama class?”

“I thought it would be good for you. And you don’t just drop out of classes. This is high school, Portia.”

“I get to pick my electives,” I argued.

“You were okay with drama.”

“Dramatic arts,” I defended myself.

“What the hell is the difference?” She was screaming now.

“Why are you getting so mad at her? What’s the big deal if she doesn’t like a stupid class?” Piper yelled.

“Both of you, relax. It’s just a class. I got humiliated and I left.”

“How’d they humiliate you? Was it bad? You want to report it?” Dad was truly concerned.

“Are you kidding, Rich? Report what? Our daughter walked out of a class.” Mom turned her anger on him.

“I left and went to the park, not to go do drugs in the bathroom.”

“People are doing drugs in the bathroom?” Piper asked, intrigued.

“Can you just put me in a different class, Mom?” I pleaded. I wanted this to be over.

“No. You need to make friends. You need to be more social. Frankly, I think you should audition for the play with your sister.”

Piper laughed.

“Fuck. You.” I picked up my plate and threw it on the ground.

Mom let out a weird cat scream.

Piper’s mouth dropped.

Dad went to clean up the mess.

I just ran upstairs and locked my room door. I blasted Asking Alexandria and did all my homework in one hour.

 

“Sweetie, it’s me. Daddy…”

I turned down the music.

“Happy?” I yelled.

“No. Why would I be happy?” he asked through the door.

“I turned it down. What else do you want?”

“To come in.”

“Fine.”

He climbed onto the bed next to me. I was not in the mood. I just wanted to go to bed and start this shitty life all over again.

“Portia…Portia…Portia…what am I going to do with you?”

“I have an idea.”

“Hmm?”

“Chop my body into pieces, grab the trash bags from downstairs, and you might as well get your gloves from the garage. Put my body parts into the trash bags and then put it in Mom’s car.”

He didn’t say anything.

“Make sure you’re not messy because you know Mom would be more upset that you got blood on her seats than the fact that her daughter is chopped into pieces.”

“See, this is why she wanted you to take drama class, because you’re dramatic as hell.” He kissed me on the cheek. “Just one more year, Portia, just one.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Three Years Ago

 

Dear Piper,

I was thinking about high school and how much you loved it and how much you loved life. You didn’t just love me, Mom, and Dad, but you loved the carpet in our living room just the same. You loved being around people. You brought everything to life. Remember when Ingrid’s husband died when we were little, and you brought her flowers from her own yard and ruined her garden? Mom was so mortified. Ingrid started crying but then laughed. Apparently, her husband hated the garden. You just got away with everything. You get that from Dad. His charm and his manipulation skills. It sounds bad, but God, was I envious of it.

 

I lit a cigarette while I was reading. I was so over being sad. I had been so fucking sad then. I was glad I didn’t feel that way anymore. I missed them every day but at least wasn’t crying over them every day anymore.

There was a knock at the front door.

It could only have been three people: Ingrid, Susan, or Grandma. Or Ethan. I had already forgotten about Ethan. It had been two weeks since I’d seen him.

He had called and texted every day, though.

“Hey.” It was Ethan.

I instantly smiled. I had almost forgotten what he looked like.                    He had shaved.

I liked it.

He looked more innocent.

“I got you guys some beer. Can I join you for a smoke?”

I grabbed the case and brought it to the kitchen. He stayed outside.

“You can come in.” I smiled.

“You smoke in the house?” He took out a cigarette.

“I do whatever I want in the house.” I tossed him a lighter from the dining room table. We had an ashtray in the middle. There used to be flowers and a tablecloth. Now it was just wood and ashtray.

“How have you been?” He sat down.      

“Same. You?” I lit my cigarette.

“Thinking about you.”

I threw him a beer. He seemed different, like there was something on his mind.

“What’s wrong with you? Usually, I’m the anxious one,” I said.

“I’m just wondering if you’re mad at me.”

“Why would I be mad?”

“You barely spoken to me in two weeks. I was worried about you.”

I smiled and shook my head. “I just didn’t feel like it.”

“Right,” he said, looking around. Did he want a tour? It wasn’t a mess. I would have never let him in if it were. “Are you good now?” he wondered.

We weren’t acting how we usually were with each other. We were uncomfortable.

“Sure. Yup.”

“Good,” he said. I was trying to read him but his soul seemed blocked.

“How’s school? Did you get your grade up in chem?”

“No. My dad wants to hire a tutor.”

“That’s smart. I would love a tutor. A lot of students have tutors.”

He smoked his cigarette slowly. “But you’re so smart,” he said.

“With online classes, it’s tough. It’s nice to have another person there. I just…you know.”

“I want to meet your dad,” he said randomly.

“Is that why you keep looking around? Are you looking for him?”

“No. We just never hung out inside your house like this. I would feel more comfortable if I met him, ya know?”

“Good point.”

“But I get it. I spent the night. Does he think we had sex?”

“No, he knows me better than that. He’s happy I have a friend,” I told him. I really didn’t know what I wanted. I didn’t feel like introducing him just yet.

“Is that what we are?” he asked. “Friends?”

I didn’t know how to answer that question, so I just shrugged.

“You know, you kissed me.”

“And you kissed me back.”

“You should come over for dinner. I’ll show you my place. You can meet my dad.” He smirked. I giggled as I put out my cigarette.

“I’m not going to spend the night and cook you breakfast for twenty the next morning.”

“No, I just…I don’t…is this me overstepping again?”

“Do you have books?” I wondered.

“Books?”

“One thing I do miss about Cypress is the library. I would read during snack and lunch.”      

“Come over tonight and you’ll see. I have lots of books. It’ll be fun,” he said, trying to convince me.

“Whenever Piper said ‘it’ll be fun,’ it was a disaster. You know what fun is?”

“What?”

“Watching The Bad Girls Club with a cinnamon raisin bagel with two pounds of cream cheese on it and a bag of hot Cheetos.       You eat both at the same time so you have enough cream cheese for both.”

“Cream cheese for both…sides of the bagel?”

“And the hot Cheetos.”

“You’re ridiculous.” He smiled.

He was beautiful. I wanted to kiss him again, but I had learned from my mistakes.

“Do they do that in Bad Girls Club?” He was still laughing.

“No, idiot,” We both started laughing.

The more time went by, the more nervous I got about going over to Ethan’s. I wanted to bring my dad so badly. I asked Ethan and he said it was okay, but Dad was not down.

“Just make sure you bring leftovers. I’m so tired of chicken noodles, canned tuna, canned chili, tortilla chips—let alone fucking rice neither of us can fucking make right.”

Tell me how you really feel, Dad. Or maybe do it yourself sometimes.

“I really don’t want to do this.” I wanted to be home but I knew Piper would want me to take advantage of this opportunity.

“It’s worth it for the food.” Dad tried to convince me.

“Dad. If you want real food so damn bad, I’ll go over to Ingrid’s tomorrow or call Susan.”

“No and no. I don’t need their help to take care of my daughter.”

But he’d take Ethan’s help, apparently. “Right.” I just wanted to drop it.

“You’re right across the street. What’s the worst that can happen? I’ll be able to hear you scream. Remember the Fourth of July when you were three and we’d just gotten Pipes to sleep when a firecracker went off but she still slept until you screamed like you were getting murdered by Barney?”

“I hated Barney.”

“Exactly.”

 

I decided to make an effort with my hair and makeup. I didn’t look like the grieving child anymore.

I knocked on the door and it was opened by his dad. I recognized him. I’d seen him like a hundred times before but I didn’t think I’d ever said a word to him.

“Portia Willows,” he said, and I smiled. “Come on in.”

“Mr. Torke, I remember you.”

“Call me James.”

“Idon’t know that I can, Mr. Torke. My mom would talk about you sometimes.”

“Hopefully good things,” he said. We walked through the house. It was a lot different than mine. I didn’t know why I thought it would look the same. The first thing you saw when you opened the door was the spacious living room. They had a red rug that matched the red pillows on the off-white sectional.       The sectional took up a lot of space. There was no television, just shelves filled with books. It was almost like a library. Now I understood why Ethan had smiled when I asked if he had books. There were pictures of him and another girl. His sister? He didn’t talk about her much. I could tell there was no way he had grown up in this house. He grew up in Florida, and now he was interested in the traumatized loner girl. But there was something strange about Mr. Torke. It wasn’t my anxiety—from the moment I walked in it was as if they were hiding something. I didn’t know why, I just felt the energy in the house.

“Mom wanted me to come see you,” I admitted.

      “She would ask me how to help you. I couldn’t tell her anything since you weren’t my patient.” I didn’t say anything. “I just gave her whatever advice I could…you know, she was a lot more worried than she had to be….”

What the hell? My mom worried about me? Yeah right. She was worried about her reputation, not me. I’d known she’d asked the guidance counselor what to do with me—but hearing it from him was just disgusting, especially since she was dead now. I didn’t know what to do or say.

I was here for Ethan, not a lecture.

There were abstract paintings on the wall. I stared at them, trying to figure out what they represented while Ethan and his dad mumbled in the kitchen. There was one that I particularly liked. It had a square in the middle, shapes and chaos lines were all around the square and going through it. I related to that square. I had been the square my entire life. I didn’t talk.

The dining room was in a completely different room—I’d only ever seen that in movies. We sat down at the dinner table. He’d made pasta with shrimp and there was a salad. I could have finished the whole bowl. I ate while they talked and stared off into the distance. I wasn’t paying attention. I just kept eating.       I knew I should stop so I could bring some home to my dad. I scraped off my plate anyway. While I was chugging my water, everything went quiet. I put it down.

“My dad had wanted me to bring some back for him,” I mumbled.

“Of course. I’ll put the leftovers in a container for you.” Mr. Torke wouldn’t stop staring at me as he got up. I smiled at Ethan. Mr. Torke came back in and handed me the container.

“Thank you. This was great. My dad is going to love it too,” I told him.

“I’m glad. I can’t get this kid to eat my cooking. It’s not like his mom’s, that’s for sure,” Mr. Torke joked, looking over at Ethan.

“Just different. I have to get used to it,” Ethan said.

“You know, your father was more than welcome to come. I didn’t know he was…uh…you know?” Mr. Torke looked at both of us.

“What? Living with me? Not sick?”

I wondered what he’d heard about us.

“I still haven’t officially met her dad, so I didn’t invite him. I want to make sure Portia was ready before she introduced us,” Ethan said.      

“Yeah, he’s not sick. It’s just that we all grieve in different ways.”

“Interesting. Did you guys ever go to grief counseling?”

“Dad…” Ethan put his arm around me. It was fine. I just didn’t understand the question.

“I’ve heard that term, but don’t know what it is. Is it like a class to learn about grief? I don’t know what it is.”

“No, it’s to help you grieve properly.”

“There’s a right way to grieve?” I didn’t think so, but he was the doctor.

“Everyone is different, but these groups—I’m telling you, they work wonders. I know so many people—”

“I get what you’re saying. My dad definitely needs counseling. I’m really just following him. When he cries, I cry. When he laughs, I laugh. If he goes to counseling and gets better, I’ll get better.” I smiled at Ethan, who looked pissed.

“Smoke?” he asked.

I nodded.

“When we get back, I can help you with the dishes,” I offered.

“Thank you, Ms. Willows, but it won’t be necessary.”

We sat on the front steps.

“He wasn’t so bad. I could have gone and seen him I guess.” I lit my cigarette.

“You think you would be different now?”

“No. Not really, but I feel bad being rude and giving him the cold shoulder for four years.”

“It’s so weird. You’ve seen my dad more than I have.” Ethan looked off into the street.

“I guess, but we didn’t even talk, and he’s your father.”

“He wants to help you. I mean, I want you to be happy too, but I already fucked up so much already…” he said quietly. I didn’t know what he meant by that.

“What do I need help with? Besides school, but I’ve got that handled. Help taking care of my dad? I do have help. Susan, my Mom’s partner, and Ingrid, who lives next door. My grandma comes down from time to time. I know what it looks like, Ethan. I know what everyone is thinking…”

“Do you?”

“Yeah. No one has seen my dad because he won’t leave the house. I barely leave the house. I’m about to be twenty years old and I drink beer like a country singer and smoke cigarettes like a sailor…I don’t fucking know, but I know it looks bad. But we’ve been like this for over a year and we’ve survived. We’ll keep surviving. It’s not the norm, but I have it under control. Tell your dad not to worry about me, but he’s so sweet for caring.” I kissed him on the cheek. “If that’s what all that was…” I said holding up the pasta. “I’m going to go home now and take care of my dad.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 6

 

Present Day

 

I still couldn’t figure out exactly where I was. I was willing to say anything to see my dad. I was sitting on the sofa now. Knees glued to together. Toes quietly tapping the white tiled ground. My hands gripped my knees. Eyes down.

“Portia…what’s the last thing you remember about the accident?”

“The police,” I mumbled.

“Were you at the scene?”

“I would have been dead, too, if I was.” I looked up with a glare.

“Okay, so the police?”

“I saw pictures, though…” I glanced down again, remembering. My mom’s crushed skull, her eyes wide open. Piper had so much makeup on—she looked really good dead.

“I heard you refused to look at some and you didn’t identify them.”

“I didn’t need to. Someone else did.”

“What did the police tell you?”

Why was I talking about something that happened five years ago? Was my family murdered? Did my dad have something to do with it? Was my dad in jail right now? Holy shit.

“No. I’m not doing this. No. I want to see my father. I have the right to see him.” I got up and walked to the window and looked outside.

“As soon as we’re done, you’ll get to see him.”

I didn’t recognize the street I was on. I’d been here before, though.

“Do you know why you’re here?”

“No. What are you investigating? My father? It was an accident.” I was looking out the window. “It was an accident,” I said again, and put my hand up to the window. There was dried blood. It had mostly been washed off but the outline of the stain was still there.

I couldn’t remember how…

“Who are you?” I demanded, turning around.

“Elizabeth Smith. I’m a forensic psychiatrist. I was hired as a consultant for this case. I’m on your side, Portia.”

“What is so fucking complicated about a car accident that happened five years ago where my little sister died at sixteen and my mother at forty-two? It had been an accident. My dad blamed himself for months, but the police reassured him that it wasn’t his fault.” I started crying.

“That’s not the case that I’m talking about.”

I looked at my hands.

Blood on my kitchen floor.

I tried to remember more. What the hell had happened?

“Sit down, Portia.”

I had done something.

Something really bad, but I had no idea what it was…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Three Years Ago      

My dad and I were cleaning the house like maniacs because Susan was coming over with her kids. That meant all the blinds open, air fresheners, all the trash and clothes in my or his room. The kitchen needed to be full and clean. I was upstairs getting ready.

“Dad, are you dressed?”

“We have an hour.”

I went to his room. He was lying in his bed watching TV with a beer.

“You’re going to have beer breath.”

“Is she bringing the kids?”

“Yes.”

“Get your old toys from the garage.”

“You should get a shower.” Upstairs looked a mess compared to how well we had cleaned downstairs. I rushed downstairs, and through my living room window noticed Ethan coming back from a run without a shirt. I decided to open the garage door and walked outside to see if he’d notice me. I crossed my arms and smiled at him. He nodded and ran toward me.

“Hey, Portia, what are you up to?”

“My mom’s best friend is coming over to check on us. It sucks. Her kids are coming, too. We had to clean up the whole house. I can’t even drink a beer. I just want to get it over with.”

“Would it help if I was over? I’m sure if she saw that you made a friend…”

“That would be awesome, but you’d have to put on more clothes and you’d have to deal with kids.” I looked at his body. Jesus, there wasn’t one unattractive thing about him. It wasn’t like he had a six-pack or anything, but it was just perfect.

“I love kids.” He started jogging in place. I gulped and looked away.

“You’re crazy.” I smiled as he ran back over to his house. Then I realized Ethan would have to meet my dad. This would be interesting.

After I brought the toys in and saw my dad dressed to the tee, I was excited. Everything was going to work out. He looked like my old dad, my mom’s husband.

“Dad, look at you.”

“I do not want to do this.”

“I want you to meet Ethan. He’s going to come over. Ethan and I will distract her while you go do whatever you want.”

“I don’t want to meet Ethan and I don’t want to see Susan. Can you just tell her I died?”

“Dad. I’d get taken away, idiot.” Would I though? I was over eighteen.

“No, you won’t. You’re an adult.”

Ethan knocked on the door. Dad started to run away but I grabbed his arm—there was no way he was going to look this nice ever again. He was meeting Ethan now.

I opened the door with my dad right by my side. I kept looking at him. He was acting like a five-year-old boy, quiet and just smiling.

“Daddy…this is Ethan. Ethan, this is my dad, Richard.”

Dad half smiled.

“Come in,” I told Ethan.

“It’s great to finally meet you,” Ethan said. They shook hands.

Dad didn’t say anything.

“Dad, don’t be rude, say hi.”

“Hi,” he mumbled.

“You see where I get that from,” I giggled.

Ethan looked around. “The place looks nice.”

I was pleased he noticed. “Thanks, we cleaned it together. So, Susan is on her way. We definitely have time to down a beer.” I grabbed three beers from the fridge. Dad and Ethan were just staring at each other in silence.

“Let’s do this fast. Cheers.” My dad and I were chugging. Beer was getting everywhere. Dad was making stupid faces. I started laughing and sprayed beer everywhere.

“Stop. You’re making me make a mess.” I laughed at Dad. Ethan didn’t find it amusing.

“I got it,” Ethan said as he went to grab napkins.

“You’re just embarrassed because you couldn’t finish the beer,” I said to Dad as I grabbed his.

“Uh, you guys got this,” Dad said. “I’m going to go upstairs. If Susan wants to see me or the kids, tell them to come up.” He walked upstairs. “It was nice meeting you, Ethan,” he called.

“He said it was nice meeting you,” I repeated.

“It was nice meeting you too,” Ethan yelled back.

I rolled my eyes.

“What?”

“Nothing. Thank you for cleaning that up and for being here.”

Finally, I heard the kids. I opened the door and Stefan, the oldest at fifteen, came in followed by Cassie, who was ten. Then there was McKenzie, six, and the twins, Joey and Jesse, who were three.       They instantly ran all through the house.

“The toys are in the living room,” I yelled to them.

Susan hugged me for the longest time. She and my mom were a lot alike, except Susan was blonde with hazel eyes. They had the same style—blazers, pencil skirts—but today she was wearing blue jeans with black pumps and a low-cut long-sleeved blouse. If you’re wondering how a mom with five kids could wear pumps, you didn’t know Susan. She was more insane than my mother. She did what she wanted when she wanted—kids or no kids. She was skinny, just like my mother. They both wanted to be young—go out for drinks after work, lie to their husbands about where they were. At least my dad only had to deal with Piper and me. Susan would leave Gary with five children. No wonder he cheated.

“Sorry it’s been so long.”

“This is Ethan Torke, he lives across the street.”

“Oh, nice.” She gave Ethan a hug. Ethan couldn’t help but look at her cleavage. I giggled.

“Water, juice, anything?” I asked.

“Do you have wine?”

“Uh, I think so…”

“Do you want me to watch them?” Ethan asked me.

I shook my head, thinking, Why would you offer to do that?      

“Would you please? Oh my God, I like him already.”

I poured both of us a glass of wine and we sat at the dining room table. She drank half of it in one gulp. Like I said, what she wanted and when she wanted—kids or no kids. To be honest, she already seemed a little buzzed. Whenever Dad had raised concerns about Susan’s lifestyle, Mom shut it down completely.

“It’s been a long day. Gary has been on an extended business trip with that whore from his legal department and the babysitter went to an out-of-state college. Why would she do that to me?”

“I’m sorry.”

Susan talked and talked, or more accurately, she complained and complained. I went in and out of listening.

“Stefan’s stupid teacher made me leave the office to come get him just because he threw a fucking muffin. Are you kidding me? It’s a goddamn muffin. If he threw a knife, call me. A muffin isn’t going to hurt anyone. The twins, they were sick for two weeks straight. I thought they were going to die, and between you and me, I wasn’t going to be that mad, but then they got better and it was the happiest moment of my life.”

Holy shit, I thought, I really hope Ethan isn’t hearing all of this.

“I almost left Gary, but I didn’t. Do you have a cigarette?”

I got up to walk to the kitchen drawer where I had the cigarettes and took out two for each of us.

“Do you want to go outside?” I started walking out of the kitchen.

“No, I smoke in front of them all the time.”

I sat on her other side.

“Mom, can I have one?” Stefan asked. Stefan looked twenty. He was as tall as me, with long dark hair that went over his eyes. He always wore a beanie, black sweatshirt and skinny blue jeans. Not to mention, he suddenly had a deep voice. I remembered the first time I saw him after puberty, I had jumped when he said hi to me.

Ethan was playing with the kids, looking over at me. He threw two thumbs-up. I mouthed, “I’m so sorry,” to him. I felt so bad for him, but he was the one who wanted to come over.

She gave him the cigarette and lit it for him. I nodded at Ethan to join us. I could tell Ethan was about to say something about Stefan smoking, but I shook my head at him. It wasn’t worth it.

“Are you guys, you know…?” Susan waved her cigarette between us.

“No. I mean, I don’t know,” I told her.

“No, we’re not,” Ethan said. He knew what she was talking about. Right now, I was feeling overwhelmed and weird.

“I’m going to check on my dad. I’ll be right back.”

He was sleeping. I climbed on the bed, waking him up. “I feel like she got crazier,” I whispered.

He got up and smiled. “She’s as crazy as crazy gets.”

“I don’t understand how she and Mom were best friends.”

“There was a side to your Mom you girls never knew…” I overheard a bunch of mumbling and kid screams. It seemed like Ethan was having a conversation with Susan, so I didn’t rush down there.

“Between us…it was her better side,” he whispered.

“Her better side was her crazy side?” I asked.

He nodded. “She was so focused on being a mother with a career that she didn’t spend much time being herself. I fell in love with a wild child who loved to party, drink, and make bad decisions.”

“That explains why she loved Piper more.”

“No. She just didn’t want you to grow up without experiencing life and all of its opportunities.” Dad was getting teary-eyed.

“Why didn’t she ever tell me? I just wanted her to talk to me more…”

“She never got the chance.” My dad broke down and I started to cry. He coughed and pulled himself together. “How’s it going down there? It sounds like a madhouse.”

“We really owe Ethan one.”

“He’s a quiet one. I like him. I see why you do, too.”

“I think he was just really nervous. I’m going to go get rid of her and maybe he and I can watch a movie or something. Is that okay?”

He nodded.

I went back downstairs.

“Okay, Susan, Stefan…Ethan and I have to get to school,” I lied.

“We do?” he asked me.

I nodded.

“Yeah, well, we have to go anyway.” Susan started to get her kids together.

“Well, it was nice meeting you, Susan. Maybe we can talk again soon?” Ethan asked.

I smiled.

“Yes, of course…come here.” Susan hugged Ethan. It was a long hug. I looked at them like there was something going on between them, then she hugged and kissed me on the cheek.

After they left, Ethan asked, “Do you need a ride to UCLA, is there something we have to get?”

“No. You like that? You want that? Five kids? You want your fifteen-year-old smoking cigarettes?”

“Whoa. Whoa.” He held his hands up in mock surrender.

“I just don’t get it. Is it that she’s older?”

“It sounds like you’re a little bit jealous.” He came close to me—really close. I looked down and shook my head. He took his finger and placed it under my chin, lifting my head up. We were inches apart. I moved in, staring deeply into his icy blue eyes.

“I’m not jealous.”

I could tell he wanted to kiss me, but I shoved his face away and giggled. “Want to watch a movie?”

“I should flirt with older women in front of you more often.” He sat down on the couch and I sat on the other end. He smiled. I put my feet toward him. He looked at them and then I put them down.

“What’s going on with you?” he asked.

“Nothing. I felt bad that you were stuck with Susan, but little did I know you were getting a hard-on the whole time,” I said.

“Piper would be so proud of you.” He smiled.

“Because I said hard-on?”

He crawled closer to me. “No, because you have feelings for a real person and not a character on a television show.” He kissed me on the cheek. I couldn’t understand why anyone would want to be around Susan, the kids, or me for that matter. It was that moment that I realized he really liked me.

“My mom would be proud, too.” I grabbed his face and kissed him on the lips, but not like last time. This time was harder. Intense. This was for Piper.

I pushed him off of me. “We’re just friends,” I said, and smiled. I cleared my throat and crawled back to my side of the couch.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Present Day

 

“I don’t remember anything. I mean, I remember the fingerprinting, being naked, being brought water. I don’t know how blood got on my kitchen floor or on my hands. Is my dad okay?”

“I want to work up to what happened last night.”

“Last night?”

“Let’s go back to the night of the play. You saw your sister at lunchtime and that was the last time you saw her.”

“It was a normal school day. I went home…I had a lot of homework. Dad had ordered pizza. I reminded him to record the play because I wanted to see her as Beatrice, but I didn’t want to go.”

“Why didn’t you want to go to the play?”

“I didn’t want to. I didn’t even want to go to school. I was terrified of being in public. Piper told me it was social anxiety disorder. She understood and didn’t mind me staying home.”

“So, you were at home the entire time everyone was at the play. Did you see your mom before the play?”

“No, Dad picked her up from work. I watched television. It was nice,” I choked. I remembered being happy it was just me in the house. It was like I’d secretly wished for this to happen.

“No one saw you? No one called you or texted?”

“Nope.”

“Then there was a knock at the door at twelve twenty-five a.m.?”

“I didn’t realize how late it was or I would have called my dad first. Piper probably went to a party so I didn’t expect anything from her, but it was strange because Mom had to go to work early so she should have been in bed already.”

“You know, Portia, I want to try something with you. You’re doing great, but I want you to sit back, close your eyes, take a deep breath, and think back to the exact moment there was a knock on your door.”

I did as she asked, but I didn’t think back to that moment.       Instead, there were flashes.

My dad.

Blood on his hands.

A baby crying.

Blood everywhere—all over the baby, Dad and I in the living room against the couch.

I screamed and opened my eyes. I started hyperventilating. I screamed again. I couldn’t stop.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 7

 

Five Years Ago

 

There was someone knocking on the front door. I opened it slowly. I was still chewing a piece of pizza I had just put down on the dining room table on top of a napkin.

It was two policemen. “Portia Willows?” one of them asked, and I nodded, still chewing. They took off their hats. I knew something was wrong, so I kind of just went into a zone. I heard them say Carol Willows and Piper Willows were confirmed dead at the scene and Richard Willows was in critical condition at the hospital. They wanted to know if they could take me to the hospital. I just stared.       I didn’t even realize they had asked me until one of them put their hand on my shoulder.

“We are sorry for your loss.”

“Dad,” was all I said. I followed them to the police car and sat in the back. I didn’t cry. I didn’t ask what happened. I just sat there, swallowing the rest of the pizza that was in my mouth.

When we got to the hospital, I ran up to my dad. His heart was stable. I lay next to him the entire time.

He was in a coma for a week. I didn’t move or leave his side.       Everyone we knew stopped by. I got flowers, letters, everything. Grandma said her goodbyes even though I knew he was waking up. I was in the middle of writing one of my letters, waiting for him to wake up.

 

Dear Mom,

They want to know what to do with your body. I told them to make it alive again. I don’t know what happened. I don’t want to know. I know the facts. Dad is here and you’re not. At least you have Piper and Piper has you. I’ll take care of Daddy, I promise…

 

“Whatcha doing, buddy?” Dad mumbled from the hospital bed. My heart could have stopped. My whole world changed. My daddy was back. I just cried and hugged him so tight. I didn’t want to let go, ever. The nurses had to come peel me off of him.

“I knew it. I knew it. I knew he was going to be okay,” I said, and ran out of the hospital room. I was so happy I wanted to call someone, anyone, to tell them the good news. But everyone whose numbers I knew was dead.

“Portia Willows, I’m so sorry for your losses, but we need this paperwork signed.”

I felt guilty for being so happy my dad was alive that I put my mother and sister’s deaths on the backburner.

“I’ll sign the papers, but we’ll meet with the funeral directors once my dad is in recovery,” I told the woman, and gave her the paperwork.

Someone called Susan to pick me up.

 

 

 

Three Years Ago

 

“Dad?” I was in the living room brainstorming an essay I had to write for school while watching TV and smoking a cigarette. Dad had come downstairs to grab a beer from the kitchen.

“Yeah?” He sat next to me on the couch. “Are you watching this?”

“Eh, not really.”

He changed it to the Discovery Channel. “What’s up?”

“Grandma hasn’t called in a while.”

“Yeah…well, did she ever really call? We only saw her once every two years. If your mother and Pipes never—”

“I know. I just think she would at least call you or me, unless there was something going on between you two.”

“I’m sorry. I know you miss her. It does get kind of lonely around here.”

“Don’t be sorry. I don’t care, she’s your mother. And lonely? After having Susan over and being around Ethan all the time, lonely is nice.”

“So…you two…just friends?”

“Dad, don’t even think about having the talk with me.”

“Did we ever give you guys the talk?”

“Nope, it was never necessary. Piper would just ask Mom questions. I tried to leave the conversations, but she always told me to stay because I should hear the answers, too.”

“What were the questions little Pipes was asking?”

“I’ve tried hard to forget.”

“Eh…I guess I don’t want to know either.”

 

Later that night, I was having a movie marathon by myself. I watched A Walk to Remember, Remember Me, LOL, and Stay. I was feeling super romantic. I didn’t want to be just friends with Ethan. I wanted to be something more, but I didn’t know what exactly. I guess I wanted to be his girlfriend. I wanted us to be a thing. I just didn’t know where to even start or where his head was at. Thinking about it made me think of Piper. I looked up articles on how to be a girlfriend. I knew it was something I was capable of, but the more I read, the more nauseated I became. I wished there was someone I could talk to about this besides my dad. There had to be someone.

I didn’t get much sleep. All I thought about was Ethan. I wanted to be with him constantly. He was always so busy texting me where he was at and where he was going. I always wanted to be with him, but I couldn’t, and even though he never pressured me, I felt inadequate. He even went to the store for me. He did so much for me and all I’d done was give him beer.

I went into Piper’s room. I hadn’t been in here in a while. I had stopped when it stopped smelling like her. It was more artistic than my room. She had painted the walls lavender when she was ten years old. She started to hate the color when she got older, so she covered it up with posters that she got from J-14, M, and Seventeen magazines. Her desk was still covered with the play script and the homework she had been supposed to start weeks before her death. I sat on the edge of the bed, looked around, and took a deep breath. She had a collage of pictures above her bed. I crawled to the headboard and placed my fingers there, tracing all of her different memories.

“Piper…tell me what to do.”

Maddie, her best friend, was in most of the pictures. She lived across town. I wondered how she was doing. I hadn’t seen her since the funeral.

I lay on Piper’s bed to try and take a nap, but instead I just thought of her and everything we had done together. Starting with the day she was born. I was so excited. I wanted to be with Mom the entire time, but Mom didn’t want me in the hospital for that long, she was in labor for over twelve hours.

After lying there for about an hour, I decided to do something I never thought I would do. I grabbed Dad’s keys.

“Dad, I’ll be right back,” I said as I was putting on a jacket.

“Where are you going with the keys?”

“For a drive.”

“Portia, you haven’t driven since you first got your license when you were sixteen.”

“Actually, there were times I had to go pick up Piper. You guys didn’t know.”

“Well, what are you doing? Going to pick up Piper?” he said sarcastically.

“Kind of. I’ll be back soon.”

 

I couldn’t believe I was driving. I’d only ever driven to Maddie’s house and a few other houses in the area, always with or because of Piper. It was early, but it was Saturday. Maddie could be sleeping, but I didn’t know. I had no idea what her life was like—it’d been over a year. She never talked to me when Piper was alive.

She lived fifteen minutes past Cypress High. It was a nicer neighborhood. There were a lot more people around walking their dogs. I was anxious but felt safe inside the car. I pulled up to her driveway and smoked two cigarettes before I got the courage to knock on the door.

It wasn’t like how I remembered. There used to be high trees bordering the yard, but now the front yard was like a garden with a pond near the door. There was even a fake bridge going across it. It was cute.

I got out and slowly walked up the steps that went in between the yard. I knocked softly on the door. After two times, I swung back and forth and convinced myself this was a really bad idea. I walked back to my car and banged my head on the window in frustration, when I heard a voice.

“Portia?” It was Maddie’s mother. She was a lot older than our mom. A lot more old-fashioned, too. I always liked her but I never could talk to her. I turned and smiled a little.

“Oh my gosh, the spitting image.”

I didn’t know what that meant, but she was looking at me intensely. I gave her a small wave and she ran up to me and hugged me. I didn’t hug her back.

“Come in. Would you like some tea?”

I just nodded. I had completely forgotten what I came there for and instantly regretted it. Inside, the house hadn’t changed at all. It was small but they had nice things.

It was bright.

Really bright.

Sky-blue walls, light grey sofas with knitted blankets over them. There was a floral tablecloth on their dining room table.       She led me into the kitchen where the stairs were. I didn’t know what to say or where to sit.

“Maddie? Honey? Come downstairs, guess who’s here.” I started shaking. Her mom sat the tea down on the table. “Have a seat, sweetie.”

I sat down. I could barely pick up the teacup. Maddie was walking slowly down the stairs, texting. She was wearing tight black jeans, barefoot, with a Twilight shirt and a jean jacket over it. She had short brown hair and was wearing thick black eyeliner and really dark lipstick. She looked so grown up. I guessed she must be eighteen now.

“What, Mom?” She always had an attitude. She looked up, saw me and dropped her phone, then picked it up.

“Oh my God. For a second I thought you were her.”

I’d never really noticed the resemblance. Our personalities were polar opposite, so neither of us mentioned anything about it. Neither did Mom or Dad. She sat down next to me and I cleared my throat.

“It’s good to see you. I wanted to call or visit but…” She wouldn’t look at me. She just looked down at the table. Her leg was shaking, and it was distracting me. I watched her mom look at her like she was worried. I hoped me being here was not causing them more pain.

“It’s okay. I was just in her room looking at pictures. There was something I wanted to talk to her about and you told me if I ever needed someone to talk to…” I stuttered.

She turned to her mother. “Mom, can you give us a minute?”

“Of course. Let me know if you need anything, Portia.”

I nodded and smiled. She walked upstairs, looking back at me.

“What did you want to talk to her about?” She finally made eye contact.

“You guys were like the same person. I remembered that in her room.”

She smiled.

“I know, it’s weird. We never talked besides that one time, but you’re the closest person to her and you’re still alive.” I started tearing up so I took deep breaths.

“Take your time. I’m going to get a cup of tea.” She quickly got up. I tried so hard to relax but I couldn’t. I wanted her to be, but she wasn’t Piper. It would have been so easy for me to talk to her.

“What is it, Portia? You can tell me. I always kept her secrets.” She took a sip and sat back down.

“It’s not really like that. I just think I like a boy.”

She sighed and started laughing with her head down. Then she started to cry.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“Yeah…it’s just…oh my God. She always wanted you to get out there more and she wanted you to hang out with us, and she always said that even if you got yourself a weird boyfriend, it would be cool.”

I started crying, too. I knew Piper wanted more from me but she never said it out loud. It sucked hearing it from someone else.

“I wanted to, but I just felt like I had the whole rest of my life, you know…”

“Yeah, it’s okay. So, tell me about this boy.”

“His name is Ethan Torke. He lives across the street.”

“Wait…the guidance counselor has a son?”

“He was living with his mother but he moved in with his dad to go to school out here.”

“Oh, okay. What does he look like?”

“Nothing like his dad. He has icy blue eyes, longish dark hair, and he has a little bit of scruff. He’s very tan. He loves the beach and stuff like that, but he likes me, too. He does stuff for my dad and me.”

“Has he met your dad?” She seemed concerned.

“Uh-huh. And he’s met Susan, my mom’s best friend. He’s my only friend, but we kissed…”

“Oh really? Your first friend becomes your first boyfriend. Wow, now I miss Piper even more.”

“I don’t know if I should take it to that level and that’s why I went into Piper’s room. I wanted answers. I wanted to know what I should do.”

“She would say to follow your heart. Do whatever you feel like doing and don’t worry about the consequences.”

“What are the consequences?”

“You know, getting hurt, getting pressured into something you don’t want to do.”

“Like go to the beach?” I said.

She giggled. “She did say you were pretty funny when you did talk.”

“Yeah, I just don’t want to end up spending too much time with Ethan when my dad still needs me, like, twenty-four seven.”       

She sipped her tea. “You can do both, especially if he’s already met him.”

“Would you like to meet him someday? I really would like to know if Piper would think he’s cute.”

“Girl, Piper wouldn’t care what he looks like. She would just be stoked that you kissed a boy.”

Just then, my phone rang. It was Ethan. “Speak of the devil.”

“Answer! Answer!” She was so excited she bit her bottom lip and smiled. Now that was Piper.

“Hello?”

“Hi. Where are you?”

“Uh…Piper’s best friend’s house. Maddie’s.”

“You drove?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Okay, well, I was just worried.”

“I should have told you, but I’m on my way back now.”

“Drive safe.”

“I will.”

“See you soon.”

“Yup.” I hung up.

“Oh my God. You guys are already boyfriend-girlfriend.”             She was smiling. She had stopped shaking and I could tell she was getting more comfortable with the fact that I was there. =

“What?”

“Only boyfriends call asking where their girl is.”

“My situation is a little different. I haven’t left my block in over a year besides to go to school and he took me.” I started to get up.

“Well, it was good to see you. Bring him next time.”

“Tell your mother thanks.” I was walking towards the front door as she followed behind me.

“I will. It was good to see you. Bye, Portia.”

“Bye, Piper…” I left. I didn’t realize what I said until I got to the car. I looked back. She was still standing at her door. I was embarrassed, so I hopped in and raced home.