A triumphant light shines in his eyes, and as he leans down, a sneering smirk pulls at his mouth. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He stops the music again before walking away.
Standing by the kitchen table, I glance down at the floor that needs to be mopped as hopeless emotions spread through me like dark shadows.
I can’t do this anymore.
I suck in a quivering breath, and picking up my phone, I browse the available jobs. It’s a waste of time, though. I only get thirty minutes for lunch. I can’t commute to other areas and go for interviews in such a short amount of time.
The trapped feeling I’ve been getting more frequently grips my chest.
It’s like my spidy senses are telling me I’m running out of time.
All the times Austin has hid his phone screen from me flash through my mind. The empty distance between us. The way he looks at me. The way we talk to each other.
A lonely feeling mixes with the hopelessness wrapping around me, and not wanting to complain to Elise again, I do something I know I’ll regret.
I bring up my mother’s number and send her a text.
Hi, Mom. It’s been a while. How are you?
It’s been more than a while. I haven’t spoken to her since I called her on Mother’s Day. I had to leave a message, and she only replied a week later, saying they were on a cruise. She went on and on about it and how good Ashley, my stepsister, is doing with her studies. Her Dad’s paying for medical school.
It’s been five months since we last had contact.
And even longer since I spoke to Dad. I only exchanged the generic ‘Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year’messages with him.
What are you going to do if Mom replies? You can’t ask her for money, and even if you have the guts, she’ll say no.
I also can’t go home. Mark, my stepfather, won’t allow it.
I was nine when my parents divorced and started their new lives. Mom had full custody, but that didn’t mean she wanted me. Instead, she started dating almost immediately, and I saw more of my babysitter than I did her. Once things got serious between her and Mark, she fawned over Ashley, who is five years younger than me.
By the time I turned thirteen, Dad had stopped making time for me. At first, there was always some stupid excuse. Either Tracey’s family was visiting, or Emily wasn’t feeling well, or Dad had a deadline at work. There were also all the times they made plans to go away for a weekend, accidentallyforgetting about me.
Dad would always promise we’d do something soon, but there was always another excuse.
I remember sitting on the porch one Saturday morning with my backpack ready to go, because Dad was finally coming and I’d get to see him after eight long months.
I waited all day, getting excited whenever a car came down the road.
By seven that evening, Mom finally told me to unpack my things because he wasn’t coming. She sounded annoyed, like I was the inconvenience, not him.
After that, the visits stopped completely, and I haven’t seen him since. He built a life with his new family.
I saw the matching Christmas pajamas photos on Tracey’s social media pages. My stepmother loved posting everything. The vacations at the lake. Family dinners. Birthday celebrations.
At fourteen, I learned the hard truth that no one wanted me. Mom focused on Mark and Ashley, while Dad poured everything into Tracey and their kids.
Somewhere along the way, I stopped being someone my parents loved and started being the leftover part of their old life they both wanted to forget.
As soon as I graduated, I packed my clothes and left. I used my savings from working every weekend and during vacations and moved to New York.
When I told Mom I was leaving, she looked very happy.
She was finally rid of me.
The first few months in New York were tough. Mom never asked how I was doing or if I needed anything, and that only made me more determined to survive on my own.
Then I got the job at Mitchell’s Construction, and for the first time, it felt like things might work out.