Dad had stopped calling.
Lili lay on the kitchen floor and stared at Jem’s cracked ceiling, alone in the apartment, a week and a half after telling Nick the truth—or at least part of it. She’d made it upstairs after the bus dropped her off, but had no energy to go further. Nightmares had plagued her all night.
The dreams followed a similar pattern. She woke, got out of bed, and walked from her room to find all the furniture gone. She’d search every room, but the place was deserted. She’d been left alone. Sometimes the house was Mom and Dad’s, sometimes Jem’s, once even school. But the panic each time was the same.
Still stretched on the floor, Lili pulled her phone from her pocket and scrolled through her messages.
5 OCT AT 10:10AM
Dad: Mom agreed to go to counseling. Really wanna chat about this with u. Call me?
6 OCT AT 2:37PM
Dad: This silence isn’t helping anyone Lilianna.
7 OCT AT 5:26 PM
Dad: Will I see u at church tomorrow?
She had seen Dad at church, preaching. But when the crowds left and he headed toward her, she’d panicked. Nick had been with her—what if Dad said something that revealed she’d lied about not knowing the mistress?
She’d ducked out before Dad could get to her.
9 OCT AT 9:13AM
Dad: Sorry to miss you at church. House feels empty without you.
10 OCT AT 12:10PM
Dad: WILL YOU TALK TO ME??
Her phone hadn’t vibrated in two days.
She hovered her thumb over Dad’s contact icon. Her stomach spun like a waterspout—the sensation had kept her from eating all day.
She’d checked her phone every five minutes during class, waiting for it to vibrate. She didn’t actually want to see him in person—had convinced Mom to keep him away. But his desperate attempts to get her attention had been comforting, in their own way.
She dropped the phone onto her stomach and slapped the linoleum floor with an open palm. She wanted to talk to Dad. She wished she could. But other than scream expletives at him, what else was there to say?
Hot tears pressed against her eyes. “No.” She’d cried enough lately to fill Olly’s bathtub.
She sat up and looked around the quiet home. She needed sugar, but Nat had changed where she hid her M&M’s stash again. She needed sleep, but the nightmares waited behind her eyelids.
She needed to forget.
Lili scooted on her backside toward the pantry, her black leggings picking up crumbs that Jem hadn’t had time to sweep this week. She pulled the door open.
Jem had never replaced that bottle of cooking wine Granddad tipped out, but a dusty bottle with a ribbon on it rested on the bottom pantry shelf at Lili’s eye level. A goodbye present from Jem’s old workmates—though he’d once said he never had the heart to tell them he didn’t like white wine.
She pulled it from the shelf and considered it. Its lid was a screw top, not the cork that popped like in the movies.
She unscrewed the lid and took a sniff. Her nose wrinkled, and she blew the air back out. Her father never drank, and she’d always imagined alcohol tasted like cream soda—sweet and bubbly. This smelled more like the cough medicine she’d spat out as a kid.
Still, everyone had to be hyped up about something. Maybe this would make her feel better. She put the bottle to her lips and tipped it up. She chugged down four mouthfuls before the taste made her pull the bottle away and shiver.
“Blaucgh.” The stuff tasted like it smelled. But a warm fizzing sensation unfurled in her stomach as the liquid made its way down.
She tipped the bottle back up and forced in another few mouthfuls.
By the time a knock sounded at her door, most of the bottle was gone.
Lili spun around on her backside as the knock sounded again. Jem and Nat had both been out, then planned to meet at their weekly basketball game. They weren’t due home for ages. Nat had Olly with her. She looked at her phone. Two missed messages. She slapped her hand to her forehead. Nick!
She scrambled to her feet, then gripped the bench as the room spun. Sitting on the floor, she’d had a pleasant buzz going on in her head. Now the world tipped off-kilter.
After a moment her balance returned, and she followed the straight line that ran in the pattern of the lino floor to the door. Sobriety test passed. No problem.
She pulled the door open. “Hey, Nick.”
He stood two feet back from the door, hands pushed into his jeans pockets, gaze fastened to the next apartment down from Jem’s. “I’m eighty-seven percent sure I just saw an elderly woman check me out.”
Lili doubled over in giggles.
“Do you have weird neighbors . . . or am I that hot?”
She broke into another round of laughter.
He walked around her to enter the apartment. “I’m glad you find it funny. This is going to come up in my next counseling session.”
Lili shut the door and leaned on it, gasping for breath.
He peeked into the cookie jar Natalie had bought last week. “Are you on a sugar high or something? ’Cos I want in on some of that action. What about those birthday-cake M&M’s of Natalie’s you told me about?”
She regained her breath and stood up straight. “I think she’s on to me. She moved the stash again. I managed to get Jem blamed for most of the ones that went missing.”
“Got your art brain ready?”
“No. Why?”
He gave her a weird look. “That’s why I’m here. You’re teaching me some of this art junk.”
“Oh, I totally forgot.” Whoops. They’d arranged for this on Saturday.
Nick spotted the bottle on the floor. “What’s this?” He picked it up.
Uh-oh. “Just some stuff Jem cooks with,” she covered.
He stepped in close to her and inhaled. All teasing drained out of his face. “Lili, what have you been doing?”
She looked down. “I just had a taste.” He had no way of knowing how empty the bottle was before she got to it.
“Your breath says otherwise.”
She jerked her head up. “How can you tell?”
“Think about the house I grew up in, Lili. I can tell.” He frowned. “Is that why you’re so giggly? It shouldn’t hit you that hard. Have you eaten or slept?”
“I’ve been having nightmares.” Her eyes puddled with tears. “It’s just been so hard. I thought skipping art class would make things easier, and I thought about going home, I really did, but the thought of Dad bossing me around or trying to ground me—it’s just so stupid.”
“Hold up. Go back. What does art have to do with it?”
“And I’ve managed to avoid seeing him so far,” she rambled on as if Nick hadn’t spoken, “but I still see her all the time, and she smiles at me like nothing’s wrong and—”
“Lili, are you saying your Dad’s sleeping with an art student?”
“No,” she scowled.
Nick’s face changed.
Realization hit, and Lili slapped her hands over her mouth.
He put a hand on the counter, as if to steady himself. “Are you saying”—he paused, like he couldn’t make the words come out of his mouth— “that . . . Aunt Trish?”
She shook her head. “No, no, ah—”
“I thought you said you didn’t know who she was.”
“I, um—”
“All this time, you’ve been thinking my aunt Trish was sleeping with your dad?”
She gave a small nod.
“Not Aunt Trish. She’s the good one. She’s a Christian.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Christians can make mistakes too.”
He shook his head. “Not Aunt Trish.”
“What are you saying? That I made it up?” Her voice neared ultrasonic.
“There’s no way she would do this.”
“I caught them making out in the art room.”
His eyes nearly popped out of his head. “That . . . that doesn’t mean anything.”
“I traced his phone back to her house.”
“They could have been working stuff out for Stephen.”
“At two in the morning?”
“No!” He slammed the countertop with his fist.
She jumped.
“You told me you didn’t know who it was. You either lied then or you’re lying now.”
“I didn’t want to hurt you! I know how important she is to you. But it’s true.” Her tone turned to pleading. How could he think she’d make this up? All this time, all the secrets, and now, when it was finally out, Nick wouldn’t even believe her?
He stared at her. “Don’t say that.”
Her emotions spiraled as her voice rose. “Don’t say what? That she’s been banging my dad and then saying hi to me at school? That she’s been lying to everyone? That’s she’s a hypocrite?”
“Shut up.” Nick took a step forward.
Lili backed into the door. She felt behind her for the handle, wrenched it open. “Get out.”
He shook his head and stomped past her, out into the hallway. He turned around, as if to say something, but she slammed the door in his face.
Then she walked over to the bottle and chugged the rest down.
* * *
Lili curled around the porcelain toilet bowl as her stomach spasmed.
Maybe it hadn’t been the best idea to drink almost a whole bottle of wine on an empty stomach and no sleep.
A knock sounded at the door.
She retched again.
“Lili?” Granddad’s voice sounded concerned.
Oh no. Granddad had to pick today, of all days, for a surprise visit. The wine bottle was on the table, and she hadn’t locked the door after Nick.
Another contraction of her abdomen kept her on the floor.
“Lilianna?”
The apartment door whined as it opened. A moment’s silence, punctuated only by her gags.
“Lil.” Quick footsteps approached the bathroom, paused at the door. “Oh my—”
She couldn’t turn to see him, but thick fingers gently grasped her hair from behind, shifting it out of the way.
She lost what was hopefully the last of her stomach contents, then sank back on the tiles, eyes stinging with tears.
After a moment, Granddad grasped her arm and supported her weight as she stumbled to the sink. She twisted the faucet on full blast and shoved her face under the stream. Cool, cleansing heaven. She kept her face under the rush of water for long moments after she’d already rinsed her mouth and washed her face.
Finally she raised her head, water dripping from her chin and wet wisps of hair. She risked a glance at Granddad.
“Your elderly neighbor just asked me if I was one of those police strippers.” Granddad’s face held no mirth, his mouth set in a straight line. “And then I find my granddaughter drunk. I can smell it on you, Lili. Is this upside-down day?”
Despite the situation, her lips twitched in a smile. “You don’t get old ladies hitting on you regularly?”
Steam practically sizzled from his scalp. “This is not funny, Lilianna.”
Her gaze fell to the floor. “Yes, Granddad.”
“Where’s your uncle?”
“At basketball with Natalie.”
“What are you doing?”
“Nothing. I wasn’t drunk. I’ve been sick all day.”
“So you decided to treat it with a bottle of wine? I saw the bottle. I can smell your breath.”
She shrugged. She couldn’t tell him the real trigger for her behavior. If his reaction to a little alcohol was anything to go by, news of Dad’s affair would destroy this family—permanently.
Granddad perched on the edge of the bathtub. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing. I—I just had a fight with Nick.” Her lip trembled. “I think he hates me.”
“That’s it? You had a fight with a boy?” His tone indicated that was not a good enough reason.
“It—It was a big one.”
He gave a huff as he stood. “I’m taking you home.”
She pulled her gaze from the ground. “I am home.”
“No, to your parents’. Your uncle clearly doesn’t have his head on straight.”
Her eyes widened. “What about my things?”
“Grab what you can fit in your duffel, and you can get the rest later.” He strode from the bathroom, and after a moment there came a clink of glass against metal. Probably the bottle landing in the trash.
Lili ran her fingers through her hair, heat expanding through her chest and face. Another adult trying to boss her around. And his life in no more order than hers—one son a cheating hypocrite and the other estranged.
She sat on the bathroom floor, drew her knees to her chest, and locked her arms around them.
After a minute, Granddad stomped back in. His face slackened. “What are you doing?”
“I’m not going.”
His eyes narrowed. “I’ll put you over my shoulder and carry you.”
Boldness, perhaps from the residual alcohol, pumped through her veins. “I’ll scream. Mrs. McCarthy next door has a taser and wandering hands.”
Granddad drew in a slow breath, his intense gaze burning holes into Lili. Rage built behind his eyes, tinged with something else. She recognized it from her own reflection. Fear.
She pushed herself up off the ground. “What are you going to do? Shout at me, like you do to Uncle Jem? Throw me out of your family unless I behave like I’m perfect? Tell me you don’t love me anymore?” She folded her arms. “Whatever. I don’t care.”
Had she performed a spontaneous jazz number, Granddad couldn’t have looked more stunned.
After a moment he wiped the frozen-fish look off his face and replaced it with a scowl. “You’re talking crazy.” He strode to the door, then turned back, face set. “I’m walking down to the car. If you’re not there in five minutes, I’m coming back to handcuff you and sit you in lockup for underage drinking.” He glared at her. “Don’t think I won’t. Just ask your father.”
She watched him go, stood still for a full thirty seconds. Then she dashed to her room and stuffed her laptop and clothes into a backpack.
Few things could be worse than going home.
But one of them was sitting in lockup.