I felt a lot better after last night. Bill went into work late just to make sure I was ok.
When I woke up, Bill was making me and him waffles with strawberries for breakfast. He never cooked, unless he felt bad.
He didn’t do anything wrong, it was just my fucked up head and past that made me so insecure about everything.
I grew up in a very unstable house. My dad was in and out of the picture. He had a big drinking problem and he would bring other women home when my mom was out. I haven’t heard from him since I was 10 years old; he left.
My mom was even worse, she was a drug addict. She got hooked on heroin right after she had me, and she’s been smoking weed since she was in high school. Her other addictions include cigarettes, cocaine, opioids, steroids, meth, PCP, LSD, psilocybin, ecstasy, and morphine. And there's probably more.
I’m honestly really surprised she’s not dead yet. Then when she got pregnant again, she and the baby almost died. My mom was hospitalized for months to keep her off the drugs, she almost died in the hospital from the withdrawal her body was going through.
Then as soon as the baby was born, she was on all of it again. Then my dad left us, my mom was in and out of the house, so I pretty much raised my younger sister for six years, until my grandpa paid for a boarding school in St. Louis and I’ve been there since then, until now.
I don’t even know where my sister is anymore. She had brown eyes and the same shade of brown hair that I had. She had little dark flecks in her eyes that young me was so jealous of.
I bet she’s beautiful now. I hope she’s okay.
I haven’t talked to anyone in my family since I left for school.
Me and Bill ate our breakfast on the island, sitting so close to each other. He’s the only good thing that’s ever been in my life.
We sat in comforting silence for a half hour until Bill had to leave. He gave me a long, loving kiss until he pulled away.
“I love you, babe. Text or call me anytime you want me here today, I’ll come home immediately,” he said.
I nodded. “Love you too,” I said.
He gave me a warm smile and he walked out the front door.
I put our dirty dishes in the dishwasher and went upstairs to the bathroom to check.
My pregnancy test was negative, again. I was so disappointed. We’ve been trying since the engagement. I wanted to have kids so bad.
Even though I went through so much as a kid, I know I can do better than my parents could do, even if they had tried their best. I also just want to prove to myself that I am better than my parents and that I can give a child better than what I had. Because my childhood was really fucked up.
I organized and slept a lot that day, and around 1 p.m, I heard a knock at the front door.
I went from the living room where I was watching The Bachelor to the front door. I opened it to see a teen, ginger girl with puffy, red eyes. The one I saw yesterday outside Marjorie’s house with the boy.
“I’m Augustine, I live next to you, um, my grandma said that you might be able to help me?” she said.
“Yes, Marjorie told me about you yesterday, come on in,” I said, opening the door to let her in.
She walked in the door, looking around. “This place is nice. Our house is a mess,” she told me.
I smiled. “Thank you, Augustine,” I replied.
I led her into my living room where I sat on the couch, where I was. She sat down on the other end.
She looked at the TV and gave out a small, quiet laugh.
“Are you watching The Bachelor?” she asked me.
I returned her small laugh. “Yes, I am. Me and my fiance like to watch it and make fun of all the petty girls fighting over one boy,” I said.
She frowned. “Well, that’s what I’m here to ask about,” she quietly told me.
I turned my head. “Oh, what’s wrong?” I asked.
Augustine gave out a heavy sigh.
“Well, I’ve been hooking up with this boy all summer. My grandma is the only person who knows about him, but she thinks he’s my boyfriend. He’s not. He’s my ex best friend’s boyfriend, and he was cheating on her with me all summer. The girl I paid off to keep her mouth shut about me and the boy told the whole grade at lunch today, and now I’m the most hated girl at school. I broke up the school’s favorite couple, and I don’t know what the fuck to do now,” she said.
“Oh. Um, is that the boy that came to your house last night? I saw you guys, um, kissing, when I was waiting for my fiance to get home from work,” I said.
Her face turned red. “Yeah, that’s him. And I’m just so disappointed in myself because I know I’m better than that and I just feel so bad for her. We were best friends for years, and even though we’re not friends anymore, I still respect what we had, even though I hate her and I’m jealous of her. I helped her get through a lot of shit over the years, and I feel terrible,” she said.
“It’s not your fault. If he was loyal and decent, he would’ve stayed loyal to his girlfriend. It’s normal to feel bad, especially when you were once really close with this girl. But I’m sure that you two could talk this out,” I told her.
She shook her head.
“There’s no talking this out. I helped her through so much, she has a really terrible home life. She couldn’t afford clothes, I always gave her some because she had too much pride to ask for help. I was so selfish, too. I was so mad and I blew up at her when she told me that she was going on a date with him, the boy I’d been crushing on for years. I should have sucked it up and been happy for her, but I was too selfish and caught up in my own head. That’s why she went off and found new friends, the girls more popular than I was. And she could fit in with them now because she had the jock-y, attractive, perfect boyfriend,” she said.
“Don’t think that the end of your friendship was your fault. If her boyfriend was like what you said, then there’s a chance that you guys would’ve grown apart. But you still might be friends, just not as close as before. I’m sure this whole thing will blow over soon anyway,” I told Augustine.
She shrugged. “I just can’t believe that Inez announced it to the whole grade. I paid her so that she wouldn’t tell anybody, because it’s so embarrassing and so disappointing. I feel so bad for doing this to Betty,” she said.
I was shocked.
“I’m sorry, did you say Betty? Who’s that?” I asked.
She sighed. “That’s the girlfriend who got cheated on, she was the one who used to be my best friend,” she replied.
“And she had a really bad home life, you said, right? How bad was it?” I asked, immediately following her response.
“Um, yeah, it’s pretty bad. Her dad left her as a baby, her mom is a drug addict, who’s hooked on so much stuff that Betty doesn’t even know all of it. She’s been living by herself and providing for herself since she was seven. To put that in reality, we’re seventeen now. It’s crazy, and it’s really sad,” Augustine told me.
“Does she have brown hair and soft, brown eyes? With dark flecks?” I asked.
Augustine looked puzzled. “Um, yeah, why? How do you know this?” she asked.
Fuck, I was right.
“Because that’s my sister.”
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