Chapter 2 TWO

Cahlia Once inside, I put my helmet on the ground and peered around after opening the front door. Hearing sounds from the kitchen, I let out a sigh. After the evening I had, I was reluctant to confront Lucas. Now that Nicko was gone and I was alone in my room for the remainder of the day, I wanted some time to gather my thoughts and carefully consider my next steps. I had no idea how Monroe was connected to my past or why she would want to kill me, but Nicko had completely disrupted my world. Even though I was eager to get home, I stayed at the hotel for just a little while because I had things to do. I slept there once more but departed almost as soon as I got up. Hearing my own gasp as it came out of my mouth, I entered the kitchen. With a cup by her side and the newspaper in her hands, my mother was seated on the kitchen island. Her appearance surprised me more than anything. I see that you have returned. I began to think that you were no longer a resident here." Grasping her cup, she took an ostentatious sip, saying something bitter. "Stayed at a friend's house." As I reached for a bottle of Coke from the refrigerator, I murmured inanely. "Hm." Disinterested, she seemed to say. "Besides, you're the one who's never home." Silently enough to make my point without being overbearing, but not so quiet that she would misunderstand me, I said. "Excuse me?" Her tone conveyed horror. "You heard me." "You have no right to talk to me like that. I put a roof over your head, food on the table, and you have the audacity to talk to me like that." She yelled. Back then, I knew I had done it. To be fair, I was ready for a fight at that time because my medications were making me reticent and overly sensitive, but at least I could talk to her about anything without feeling guilty. You're not really needed here, and if you moved on, we could survive and even thrive without you. not returning home and having to cope with this stuff. You took me away for a quarter of my life and left me with nothing; you did not even provide a roof over my head. Well done, mom; that was a really wonderful job." My mother looked like she had smoke coming out of her ears by the time I finished my speech, but I was almost grinning. In my house, you're not going to speak to me that way! Simply put, you're a slut." I could see she had been waiting to say it, but she hesitated. I suppose it was just her chance, and I could tell she relished the chance. Now, you're going to screw me for caring, aren't you? I made sure Lucas was dressed and ready for school, fed him lunch, and even obtained a job at nine years old to help pay for food—the only person in the world who understood and loved me—while you were passed out on the couch." Though not out of sadness but rather out of anger, I almost had tears in my eyes. I genuinely wanted to kill her, but I also knew that Lucas would never forgive me. "You aren't taking your meds, are you?" It kind of irritated me that she accused me and always knew when I had gone off them. "They're bullshit." Gazing down, I saw the ground. They support you. You must have them. She was a serious person when it came to my medications, despite her being a nasty bitch. How come you are concerned? You seem uninterested in other aspects of my life, so why is this? It was uncomfortable in a lot of ways to see the softening of her face as I gazed up at her again. "Because... because I don't want you to end up like your father." Dragging the last of her drink down the drain, she spoke as she got to her feet. Before I could say another word, she picked up her luggage and was out of the house. It hit me like a train what she said. When it came to regulations and penalties, she was always tougher than Lucas. Could it have been for this reason? To my great annoyance, Lucas was standing at the foot of the stairs wearing a pair of joggers when I left the kitchen and placed the unopened bottle of Coke down on the counter. He said, a little uncomfortably, "Hey." "I have shit to do." He seemed to be following me. I murmured as I shoved by him and headed up the stairs. With me, he followed me into my room. "What was that about?" he inquired. Glancing back at him, I looked. "As if you didn't hear it already." He began, "Yeah, well, I just wanted to make sure." "I don't want to talk about it." Turning around, I looked at my bed before interrupting. All the cushions were in their proper places, and the coverings had been sorted. After realizing that my medicines were on the nightstand, I debated between grabbing them and throwing them out the window. "Are you coming to school today?" He enquired? "Wait, what day is it?" My phone hadn't been on for days when I asked in a startled manner. It's Friday, he said. "Are you going to come to school?" Upon my failure to respond, he inquired. "No." Regarding Ivan and Trevor, though, Their desire is to" "I don't want to talk about Trevor," said I. And that's when it hit me—since Trevor had visited me in my room, I hadn't given him a second thought. Though I didn't have time for diversions, I ignored the rush of remorse that overwhelmed me. Well, all right. How about lacrosse? On Monday, there will be announcements. "Announcements for what?" With a second look, I asked. "To see if you get to join the team." "Oh, I don't really have time for that right now; I have a shitload of things to do." said I. All right, may I help in some way? Additionally, Rainier? Let go; you don't need to handle everything on your own. He made the offer. "This is my shit; I have to clean it, alright?" Gazing through my hair with my fingers, I muttered. With a puppy's expression, he ignored my words and looked at me as though I had just reprimanded him. "Can you tell Andy to meet me down the alley by the library at 11, please?" I asked, and I did. "Can't you do it, considering this is you, 'Shit'?" "I deserved it," he answered icily. "Please, Li, I need to do this, and I need her," I said. With a nod. "Thank you," I uttered. He was looking at me sadly, and then he was gone from my room. My blood seemed to boil, and I was suddenly filled with rage for no apparent reason. The argument with my mother and Lucas attempting to get inside my company are probably the main contributing factors. From my bedside table, I retrieved the tablets and held them up, staring at them. When too much harm could be done, I removed my fist before it got too tight—a few small dents here and there, nothing major. As soon as I entered the restroom, I removed the bottle's top, tossed it to the floor, and just stared at the tiny white pills within the orange container. I took a sly look at myself as I ripped the bottle open while standing over the toilet, letting all the pills fall into the water. Dropping the orange bottle, I flushed the toilet. It was liberating and made me feel strangely liberated.