I settle into bed and decide to let her stew, I’ll talk to her again tomorrow. Just as I’m about to fall asleep my phone pings.
I reach over and grab it, anxiously swiping it open to read her message,
Ivy: Once bitten, twice shy.
Sundays are always lazy days for me, but I have a certain brunette with ocean eyes on my mind, and I know I won’t be able to relax until I speak to her.
I’ve come to accept that I have feelings for Ivy, the type that could grow into something more if I let them, and I want to believe that Charlotte would be happy for me.
On my quest to find out about Charlotte in the last few months of her life, I’ve spoken to Amelia, and some of the things she’s told me are brutal. She says Charlotte was extremely moody, anger being the most prevalent mood, and physically violent if triggered.
Amelia showed me a scar on her calf when Charlotte threw a toy at her and it lodged into her skin. She pulled out papers she had kept that Charlotte used to slip under her door.
Ugly whore.
Dyke bitch.
Die lesbian.
All really angry, deep pressed pen strokes into the paper, and nothing like the Charlotte I knew. As much as I want to believe my sister could never do such things, I also see the lasting effects it’s had on Amelia, and I can’t disbelieve her anymore.
She says my dad was sure Charlotte was doing drugs but unsure how he found out. Only that they fought a lot about it and he was worried when she’d go back home to me and Mom. Was she getting drugs from our high school? It’s possible, because that place was teeming with enough drugs to fill all the local pharmacies.
Amelia says she heard him asking her to give him the pills frequently. Which would make the most sense because Charlotte didn’t smoke and was petrified of needles. But then again, what the fuck do I actually know about my sister?
There is someone that would know everything but Ivy is fucking fragile right now and I don’t want her pushed over the edge. I also can’t keep pushing it off too much longer, I want to show Ivy I can help her be relationship material but first, I need to reconcile all the things I didn’t know about Charlotte.
Only when I know the complete truth will I be able to move on and I want to move on with Ivy.
NEIL: Have you done anything harder than weed?
Me: I’m assuming you mean recreationally?
Neil: Yeah.
Me: Once. After my Grandma died.
It was the worst experience of my life and that night ended with a catastrophic event. That’s why I swear off the hard stuff and stick to the mild shit. Like weed.
Neil: What was it?
Am I being interrogated? And what do I say if he asks where I got it from? What’s making him even ask these questions?
Me: Oxy.
There it’s out but if he asks where and how I got it, I’m not answering him. I breathe with relief when the line of questioning stops.
“Ivy!” I hear Flower’s little voice as the front door opens, “Saxon! Did you guys miss me?”
I step out of my room at the same time Saxon does and we both head down the stairs.
“Mommy and Daddy found another old car!” She giggles when I pick her up and kiss her cheek.
“Cool.” Saxon says and kisses her other cheek.
Mom and Dad come in the house and give us both hugs. Then Mom heads straight upstairs to her room, she looks exhausted and there’s what looks to be a bruise on the edge of her jaw.
“Did she have a fight this weekend?” I ask Dad.
“Nah,” Dad replies, his eyes following her up the stairs, “she took a hit while sparring with Uncle Trent.”
Uncle Trent never gets the jump on Mom and I see his jaw clenching, telling me that he’s not being completely honest.
“Thanks for sticking a stalker on me this weekend.” I tell Dad, changing the subject.
“He’s a good kid,” he smiles at me, “and you guys used to be tight. Thought you could help each other forget the hard things you’re going through for a short time.”
“He wants to bone her.” Saxon states.
“What the fuck?” I turn on him.
“Oh!” Dahlia squeals, “five dollars, Ivy!”
“What do you know about boning?” My dad chuckles as he locks Saxon into a headlock, “let’s go discuss it further.”
I laugh as Dad drags Saxon into the family room.
“What’s boning?” Dahlia asks me.
I step out of my car and stare across the parking lot towards Precious Blood Academy. I decided I was ready to come back despite feeling nauseous this morning and wanting to crawl back in bed.
This recent bout of depression has taken its toll more so than the others, I’m tired, and my body feels like lead, but it was time to drag myself out.
I walk through the large wooden doors and head to my locker, I have a bag stuffed with ten textbooks and there’s no way I’m carrying this around.
Lucky me, Veronica, Amber, and Tanya are standing in a small group as I’m making my way by.
“Oh look,” Veronica sneers, “she didn’t kill anyone else after all.”
I stop at the vitriol in her words and turn to look in her face.
“What’s up, Veronica?” I drop my bag, “not enough attention from me since I’ve been back?”
“My sister got enough of that.” She huffs, “you ruined her.”
“Veronica,” Tanya tries to grab her arm, “don’t.”
“Ruined her? How?” I ask this time getting right up in her face.
“You turned her into something like you.” Her spit flies with the force of
