COLE
Half an hour later, I pulled into our driveway with a passed-out Ava. Bree and Honey had put her in a clean shirt, but she still smelled awful. I killed the engine, went around to her side of the car, and pulled the door open.
“At least you stopped puking,” I muttered, hoisting her up from the front seat. At first, she was dead weight, but then her limbs fought against me.
“Mmmm,” Ava groaned. “Cole, put me down. I think I’m gonna be—”
She heaved once in my arms, and I managed to set her down on her knees in the grass. Ava vomited at the base of an azalea bush, and I thanked God she’d missed me and herself in the process.
I checked my watch. It was almost midnight. My father’s plane was probably making its final approach even now. I scanned the skies and thought about him up there, looking down. I shuddered and returned my gaze to Ava. She coughed and spat.
“Done?” I asked. “We can’t stay out here. He’ll be home in like twenty minutes.”
Ava nodded. “Just get me upstairs to my bathroom.”
I got her to her feet, but as soon as I did, she doubled over and wretched again.
“Jesus, Ava.”
“I’m sorry,” she groaned.
If she puked upstairs, even behind the closed door of her bathroom, my parents would hear. If Mom got up to check on her, the truth would send her into panic. And I was pretty sure my father could smell her panic. He’d find out for sure.
I considered my options. There weren’t many.
The changing room by our pool was probably my safest bet. There was a toilet, a sink, and a shower. It was adjacent to the guesthouse, so we ran the risk of waking Flora, but she’d never turn us in. Of course, she wouldn’t help us either. Not because she didn’t care. Flora ran interference whenever she could, but only when she could make it look like she wasn’t running interference. Tonight, if she heard us, she’d help us by saying nothing, leaving the lights outside off, and acting like everything was normal.
I swept up Ava in a cradle-hold. “Let’s go to the back,” I whispered.
She didn’t argue. She just rested her head against my shoulder and held on. For someone whose welfare weighed so heavily on my shoulders, Ava was incredibly light. Carrying her seemed a lot easier than worrying about her. She was only fourteen. How was I going to keep her safe and out of trouble for the next four years?
And what was I going to do about her after I graduated? That was still a year and a half away, but I knew I didn’t want to stay in Lafayette and go to UL. I wanted to get out so bad. MIT was my dream school, but even if I could get in — and my odds were okay at best — Boston was impossible.
Tulane was more realistic. Getting in wasn’t the problem. Tuition, I knew, wouldn’t be a problem. My father would salivate over the bragging rights. But going to Tulane would mean I’d still be two and half hours away from Mom and Ava. And that was too far. Hell, LSU was too far. My only hope was finally convincing Mom to leave him. But I’d failed at that for years.
I sighed as I carried Ava through the back gate. The yard was dark except for the one floodlight off the porch that shone toward the pool and the cement skirting. The sight of the poolside loungers gave me an idea. I could pull a few cushions off the outdoor furniture and make a pallet for Ava in the changing room. That way, she could be somewhat comfortable while we waited for her sober up and feel better. And I could pull a lounger to the door and rest there until she needed me.
I was tired, and it wasn’t from carrying Ava.
Leaning my sister against the wall by the changing room door, I ran my eyes over the guesthouse. All of the windows were dark. Flora turned in early, and for all I knew, Elise wasn’t even home. It was rare that I ever saw her, but I once overheard Flora tell Mom that Elise spent most of her weekends at her best friend’s house.
Within a minute or two, I had Ava settled on cushions, her folded arms on the toilet bowl beneath her head as she groaned. I was carrying a lounger across the patio when a figure in white stepped in front of me.
“What are you doing?”
“Jesus Christ!” I jumped a foot and nearly dropped the chair, catching it before it could clatter against the cement. “You scared the piss out of me.”
Elise Cormier stood staring at me. In a white cotton nightgown, her dark hair spilling over her shoulders and glinting black in the moonlight, she looked like a freakin’ ghost.
“What are you doing?” she asked again.
Before I could answer or send her on her way, the sound of Ava retching yet again tore through the yard.
Elise turned. “Ava? Are you okay?”
“Elise, wait—” But she ignored me and moved to the changing room.
“Ava, what’s wrong?” she asked, leaning against the doorsill, the faint light from the changing room falling on her bare arms and feet.