That is petrifying.
I jumped straight in with absolutely no rational thought. The minute we kissed, there were no alcoholic parents, no secrets, and no impossible future. It was just him and me, and it meant the world. I’ve barely spoken to my parents the whole time I’ve been away. Mum replied to a couple of texts, but once she starts drinking, she wouldn’t notice or remember my absence.
Maybe Wren or Mila will be available when I get back. I’m going to be tired, but it beats being stuck at home. I can last a few more hours until they pass out around nine or ten. That way, I can clean up the house without them ranting.
“Indie,” the very nice steward called Max says. He kept calling me Miss Croft until I asked him to use my first name. “Can I get you anything?”
“How do you feel about knocking me out so I can sleep?”
He blinks in shock, then realises that I’m joking. “Perhaps a hot chocolate might help?”
And drink the nasty water they have on board? No, thanks.
“I’m okay, thank you.”
“There’s face mask in your amenities bag if it’s too bright.”
I grab the bag from the side. “Worth a go.”
“I’ll check on you soon.” He retreats to the front of the plane, checking on anyone who is awake. I don’t think anyone is. Heavy breathing and the sound of the plane’s engines whirring are all I hear.
Okay, Indie, time to sleep.
You can continue obsessing over Spencer when you wake.
“Do you want to stay here the night?” Jodie asks as we move our suitcases from her boot on their driveway. I left my car at theirs so I wouldn’t have to be dropped off at home.
“That’s okay, I should get back. I need to shower and change.”
Andrew puts my small suitcase in my boot and slams it shut. You have to really shove it or it pops back up because my car is that crap.
“First purchase after you land your first job,” he says, tapping the roof.
I laugh. “I kind of like her.”
“We’ll see you soon, Indie.”
“Absolutely.”
I hug them both goodbye and drive home. The girls are busy but can meet me later. I have to go home first. It’s probably for the best, anyway.
Spencer is awake; we spoke when I landed. As soon as I get home, I’ll call again, and then see if the girls are free.
When I pull up outside my house, I grip the steering wheel. The last few days have been incredible. I’ve never felt so free and happy. Now I’m back, and that heavy feeling in my stomach worsens by the second. It’s like I’ve never been away.
The house seems smaller and darker.
I force myself out of the car and take my suitcase up the path. With trembling hands, I unlock the front door and let myself in. Please be okay.
Muffled voices and the jingle from a TV ad fills the air.
My heart sinks to my toes. I was hoping they’d be asleep so I could quickly check them before going upstairs.
I slip off my shoes, and I take my clothes to the washing machine.
My blood boils as I walk into the kitchen. Fucking really? The place is disgusting. Empty microwave meal tubs lie on the countertop along with used cutlery and plates. The sink is full of mugs, and it smells of old food.
Grinding my teeth, I walk straight past the mess, and into the utility room. They’re fucking useless. It’s the same in here as it was when I left. Unsurprisingly, neither of them have done any washing. Who can live like this?
Don’t they want more?
I shove my clothes into the washer with way too much force before I slam the door shut.
Taking a breath from my crouched position, I place my palms on the floor and close my eyes, wishing I was still in LA.
“Oh, you’re back,” Mum slurs.
I jump up and spin around. She’s standing in the doorway with an unopened bottle of cheap vodka in her hand.
“Yes,” I say though gritted teeth.
Her brown hair is dull, and her skin tinged yellow. Big, dark circles have sunk underneath her eyes, and her shoulder bones poke through her threadbare T-shirt. She’s ill, but she doesn’t care.
I wait for her to ask about my trip… not that she knows where I’ve really been. They think I took a trip with the girls. Mum leans against the doorframe and watches me. I’d die if I held my breath waiting for her to ask something about my life—to take just a little bit of interest.
“The kitchen is a state,” I say, my anger for this woman magnifying.
“Don’t go on, Indie. I haven’t gotten around to it yet.”
“I wasn’t going anywhere. I haven’t expected you to put down the booze to do anything since I was a kid.”
Her eyes narrow, and she spits, “Watch who you’re talking to.”
“Who? My mum? I haven’t seen her in years.” I push past her and grab my suitcase on my way to my room. I’m burning in anger. Steam would be pouring from my ears if I was a cartoon. How dare she?
Mum doesn’t call after me. What can she say? I get to my room and kick the door closed. I’ve gone from deliriously happy to being in despair in a matter of minutes. I cling to the side of my dressing table for something to ground me.
Eventually, I slide to the floor, my legs giving out, and I land on my butt with a thud. I place my head between my knees.
Breathe, Indie. Breathe.
I open my mouth and suck in as much air as I can. After a minute, I feel my muscles relax, and I raise my head. In my handbag, Alien Ant Farm’s Movies begins to tell me that ‘just like the movies, we played out our last scene’. Spencer is calling.
Blowing out a deep breath, I straighten my back and rummage through my bag for my phone.
“Hey, Hollywood,” I say as I pick
