I should have known today was going to be a bad day when one of my children’s parents almost made me cry after criticizing me during a meeting to talk about his son failing my class. Then, two of my students were caught skipping school during my period.
All it takes is a certain number calling me to push me right over the edge and straight into meltdown territory. I consider ignoring my sister’s call, but my guilty conscience won’t let me.
I’m great at setting boundaries for everyone in my life except my sister. It’s a massive problem that she exploits, and the reason I spent a large portion of the inheritance Brady left me trying to save her from self-destruction.
The phone vibrates in my hand.
Finish it once and for all.
I close the door to my classroom before answering the phone. “Hello.” “Alana!” My sister’s overly excited voice makes my speaker crackle.
“Antonella.” I keep my tone flat despite my racing pulse. “I’ve missed you. How are you?”
“Labor.”
She laughs. “Of course. How’s your work at school going? “The same as always.”
“And Cami?”
My spine straightens. Unless my sister needs something from me, she never bothers to ask about Cami.
“What do you want?”
She snorts. “Do most people need a reason to call their little sister?”
“People? Not you? Absolutely.” Antonella usually asks for two things: money or housing, neither of which she can already provide. I made that mistake right after Mom died, and the result almost broke Cami’s heart. Although my little superstar didn’t know that Anto was her mother, she became attached to my sister and was heartbroken when she disappeared.
It was my fault for being stupid and optimistic.
Although not anymore.
“I didn’t like how we left things last time,” he says as if it hadn’t been more than two years since we spoke.
“It’s been two years and you decide to call now ?” My hand gripping the phone tightens.
“I’m in a bit of a hurry and I was hoping you could help me.”
“No.”
” But-“
“I’m not helping you anymore.” Pure intentions haven’t worked for me in the past, so maybe a little tough love will work better. And even if I wanted to help my sister, I can’t. Between paying my mother’s medical bills, supporting Cami, and then saving Antonella from herself, I have no funds.
“But I’m really sober this time. All thanks to you. More like thanks to the money you stole from my safe. I closed the eyes. “That’s good.”
Assuming he’s telling the truth , says the skeptical voice in my head. I learned a long time ago not to trust my sister. It only took a hundred different disappointments to get there.
“Does that mean you’ll let me stay at your house?” “No, but I’m happy for you.”
She makes an imperceptible noise. “Come on, Alana. Just give me a couple of weeks to sort things out. I’m struggling to pay the rent and bills since Trent moved out. He covered half of it until the end of June to give me some time, but after that, I’m on my own.”
I’m not sure who Trent is or what his connection to my sister is, but at least he paid his share of the rent. I can’t say the same for most of the men my sister has hung out with.
She moves on “I can’t stay here after June, and I have nowhere else to go. It’s not that I want to return to Lake Hysteria, but
What other option do I have? I won’t be there for long. “I promise.” He pinches my chest.
Don’t you dare fall for his usual shit. Think of Cami.
“I’m sorry, Antonio. That’s a horrible situation to be in…
But you won’t help me. Her voice is higher pitched this time. My sister has always acted the same way, being sweet as a coconut custard until she doesn’t get what she wants.
I shake my head. “It’s not fair to Cami.” “Really? Or is it not fair to you ?”
I take a breath. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“It’s obvious that you’re intimidated that Cami won’t love you anymore if I come back.”
I swallow a bitter laugh. “I’m not intimidated by you. Nothing you can do or say will change the fact that I am his mother.” Anto made sure of that the day she renounced her parental rights and made me a mother to a premature baby who was saved from neonatal abstinence syndrome due to her premature delivery.
“You wouldn’t even be his mother if it weren’t for me, so how about you show some gratitude?”
Anto’s harsh comment shouldn’t surprise me, but the great disappointment that hits me does. I thought he was used to this kind of treatment. Yet despite all the pep talks I’ve given myself over the years, my sister’s words still have the ability to cut through me faster than any sword.
It is the people we love the most who always hurt us the most.
It’s hard for me to accept that this version of Anto is the same person who wiped my tears every time I cried and held me during entire storms because I was afraid of them. The sister I grew up with would never talk to me like that, which can only mean one thing.
She’s not sober. She is hanging.
The pain blooming in my heart pushes me to end this conversation before it gets worse. I have to return to work. “I’m sorry I can’t help you.”
“God, I forgot what a cold-hearted bitch you can be. No wonder men always run away from you. His words penetrate with the power of a missile, destroying my last remnant.
Goodbye, Antonio. I end the call and put my phone in the bottom drawer of my desk. My eyes sting, and I do everything in my power to hold back the tears. Fast flashing. Without blinking at all. Fanning my eyes with my hands and then holding my head back to keep them from falling out.
Despite all my attempts, a single tear escapes in an act of betrayal. I slide it away with angry fingers.
You will not shed another tear for her.
Singing seems to center me. I take a few deep breaths, lessening some of the weight pressing against my chest.
You made the right choice.
However, no matter how many times I tell myself, I never feel like I did it. And that’s what hurts me the most.
 |
On bad days like today, once Cami falls asleep, I hang out alone on the dock. Ever since I was a child, I found something relaxing about lying on the boards and listening to the water lapping against the wooden posts.
One of the wooden planks beneath my sandals creaks, and a large shadow the size of a black bear moves at the end of the dock, putting the fear of God in me. I stumble, and the toe of my shoe catches on a half-exposed toenail.
I fall hard . The baby monitor flies out of my hand and lands with a plop somewhere in the water. My palms hit the wood, breaking my fall, though the momentum of my landing pushes them forward. A piercing sensation of splinters piercing my skin brings tears to my eyes.
“Oh.” Just when you thought today couldn’t get any worse.
“Shit! Are you okay?” Cal bolts from his seat and I groan internally.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I remain in the same position, too scared to see the damage on my palms. Fortunately, the leggings I chose prevent my knees from suffering a similar fate, although they do hurt from the impact.
The old planks creak under their heavy steps. He stops in front of me, and I look up at him from my position on my hands and knees.
Well, of all the positions to get caught in, this might be the worst.
The blush on my cheeks is hidden by the limited lighting.
“Are you planning to get up or…?” Humor seeps into her voice. Shadows cling to the sharp edges of her jaw, drawing my eyes to them. “I think I’m fine here. Feel free to return to the guesthouse after giving me a heart attack.”
His harsh laugh makes my stomach flutter.
You’re hopeless, Alana. Absolutely desperate.
“Sorry for scaring you.”
“I thought you were a bear,” I hiss under my breath as I sit back on my heels. I’m not sure how many splinters I have pressing into my palms, but it feels like hundreds.
“What’s wrong with your hands?”
Damn Cal and his ability to notice everything about me. “Nothing. Just a couple of splinters.
“A couple?” He grabs my hand and turns it palm up. I snatch it back. “Stop!”
“I’m just trying to check the damage.”
I can choose to be difficult or allow him to help me, only because I have no chance of removing the splinters without help.
“Good.” I extend my hand for him to assess the splinters.
He takes out his phone and turns on the flashlight. “Hmm.” It traces delicately over the soft skin of my palm, sending a wave of goosebumps across my arms. At least ten splinters are piercing my skin at different angles.
He accidentally brushes against a splinter and takes a deep breath.
“Sorry. What did your mom used to say? Healthy, healthy, little frog’s tail?”
“If you don’t heal today, you will heal tomorrow,” I finish for him with a small smile. My mom always made any hurt feel ten times better with just one little song. Cal remembering that…
It makes my chest feel warm and tingly.
He looks up from my hand. “Do you have tweezers and a needle inside?” I don’t like the sound of that at all. “No.”
He smiles as his hand reaches out to trace the curve of my wrinkled nose, giving me a sharp breath. “Liar,” he whispers close enough that he can smell his aftershave. The proximity of him sends every one of my cells into hyperdrive, making me feel like my body is plugged into an outlet.
He shakes his head and walks away. “Let’s get those splinters out before you chicken out and end up with an infection.”
I cross my arms and lift my chin. “I’m not a chicken.” “You cried once over a paper cut .”
The tips of my ears get hot. “To be fair, it was a pretty deep cut.”
“You’re okay. It was almost fatal, if my memory serves me correctly. I’m pretty sure that if it weren’t for that Hello Kitty Band-Aid, you might not have made it.”
I turn it over, though my lower belly warms as I remember the smallest details like what kind of Band-Aid he had on.
“Does that count towards the swear jar?” Her wide smile makes my heart race in my chest.
“Asshole,” I mutter under my breath as I walk around Cal and into the house.
I’ll be waiting for you in the kitchen. She disappears around the corner, leaving me to gather supplies. I find everything I need in my bathroom. My mom took enough splinters out of my hands so I knew how to do it.
I return to the kitchen to find Cal sitting at the island, completely unaware of my presence as he watches a YouTube video describing how to remove splinters in the least painful way possible. He pauses and plays a specific part twice before continuing with a satisfied nod.
My chest tightens at the intense look of concentration on his face. This is the reason why I want to create distance between us. Because it’s the little things Cal does, the things that most people don’t even notice or care much about, that get me every time.
Sober Cal is a dream. He’s witty, charming, and almost impossible to resist. It’s the drunk version of himself that I have a hard time accepting. That version is depressing, angry, and extremely difficult to love.
And it’s the version of him that still bothers me years later. He left all the supplies on the counter.
“Ready?” He looks up with a smile.
I wrinkle my brow. “Please, he’s trying to seem a little less excited about torturing me.”
“There are many ways I would enjoy torturing you, all of which you would be excited about.”
My head empties of any coherent thought.
Are you surprised? You always knew he was a flirt.
Knowing and experiencing are two very different situations. My heart rate skyrockets when he hits the stool next to him, and I fall onto him with the grace of a newborn foal.
Cal gets up and washes his hands like a doctor preparing for surgery before cleaning the tweezers and needle with alcohol again. I close my eyes as I place my hands palms up on the counter.
The first prick of the tweezers on my skin makes me shudder. “Do you still like to sit on the dock at night?” Cal asks. I appreciate the distraction. “Yeah.”
“What about Cami?”
“I have—had—a baby monitor before I tripped.”
His lips turn down into a frown. “That thing is a death trap.”
Another nip against my skin makes me grind my teeth. “Then why were you out there ?”
“Because one of us was blessed with a gift called balance.” I open one eye to look at him badly. “You scared me and I ended up tripping over a nail that was sticking out.”
“This place is a lawsuit waiting to happen.” He shakes his head with a sigh before pushing and poking at my hands again.
“It is not too bad.”
“You have about twenty splinters embedded in your skin that say otherwise.”
I can’t tell if his annoyed tone is due to the splinters in my hand or the fact that he’s the only one available to remove them all.
“One down. Nineteen more to go.
Motherfucker.
|
“There. Everything ready.” Cal solidifies his place in hell as he wipes my hands with alcohol.
“It feels wrong to say thank you after you tortured me for an hour, but thank you.”
“It was twenty minutes tops, big baby.” He still doesn’t make an effort to let go of my hands.
“You smiled when I screamed, psychopath.” “It brought back good memories.”
I punch him in the chest, only to wince when my sore skin makes contact. “Oh.”
“Let that be a lesson that physical violence is never the answer.” Shake my nose.
“Says the man who tried to strangle a police officer.”
His nostrils flare. “Are we back to this again?”
“I’m not sure I’ll let it go as long as I live.” I pull out my phone and show him the photo Isabelle sent me.
His mouth opens. “Did she send it to you?”
“Yes. Right before she promised to delete it from her phone.” “So, you’re the only one who has a copy?” He steps forward.
“No.” I focus so much on him invading my space that I don’t notice my nose twitching until after it happens.
Damn.
He extends his hand. “Let me see your phone.”
“It’s not happening.” He presses the lock button on the side as I take another step back.
“Alana.”
Callahan .
” Give me the phone.”
“No.” My butt hits the counter.
Cal’s smile widens. “Understood.”
I pretend to leave, but he anticipates the movement and easily slides the phone from my hand.
“California!” I jump for the phone.
He lifts it above my head. “Only a moment.”
I’m no match for his height, so I pathetically jump up and down. She gets distracted by my breasts at one point, staring at them like she hasn’t seen a pair in a long time.
“Oh really?” I cross my arms
He winks at me before unlocking my phone in three tries. My mouth opens. “Are you kidding me?”
“It’s nice that your password is my birthday.” “I don’t—” 0720.
Oh shit. I totally did it.
I haven’t changed it since I was sixteen. I offer a logical explanation.
“Of course, you haven’t.”
“It’s easy to remember.” At this point, I’m grasping at straws.
He opens the photo and deletes it before handing the phone back to me with a smile. “Here you have.”
“I knew I should have sent it to a gossip magazine like Violet suggested,” I mutter under my breath.
“A real shame.” She leaves with the biggest smile on her face.
