My Civic rolls to a stop in front of the small garage, and I push my door open while silencing another call from Colby. Not trusting this shitty, run-down area, I quickly lock my car before racing toward my front door. The dark and I don’t exactly get along, and while I know the likelihood of someone actually jumping out at me is low, my brain can’t help but take me there.
Mom’s car wasn’t in the driveway, so I have to assume that she’s still out on her hot date with the fancy lawyer, and I roll my eyes as I shove the key into the front door. I met this new guy last weekend, and I can only assume that she’s going to fall madly in love with him. She’s always been that way. Either all in, or nothing at all, and after eighteen years of life, I still can’t figure out if it’s a good thing or not.
Our home isn’t exactly falling down, but it’s certainly no McMansion either. We live out in the dodgy part of Hope Falls, though to be fair, when we first moved here, the crime rate wasn’t so bad, and the area had a good name. That shit went downhill fast. Now, we’re all just trying to get by each day without getting jumped on the street.
Stepping through the door, I go to close it just as Erica’s familiar yellow Beetle pulls to a stop. I hover in the doorway, watching as she quickly locks her car and races toward me.
She runs at me, only slowing a few feet away before coming to a full stop in front of me, her face falling as she takes me in. “You okay?” she questions, her voice low while trying to hide the heartbreak she holds for me.
My bottom lip pouts out, and without warning, she crashes into me, throwing her arms around me and squeezing the life out of me. The momentum has us falling back into my home, and she kicks the door shut behind her. “You’re going to be just fine,” she promises me as we move into my cramped living room. “Now, I don’t really know what I’m doing, but I googled voodoo dolls on my way over here and I think I can pull something together.”
I laugh and she finally releases me. “Uh-huh,” she beams, grabbing my shoulders and looking at my face. “I knew I could make you smile.”
And with that, I flick the lock on the back of the door, and she loops her arm through mine before dragging me to my bedroom. My room is an absolute mess, but Erica is more than used to it by now. I’m not proud of it, but it is what it is.
Four different outfits lay scattered across my bed after not being able to decide what to wear to the private party, and I groan at my hair straightener on my dresser. I didn’t use it tonight, but clearly Mom did, and that one piece of knowledge has me sailing across the room to double check that she remembered to turn it off.
Mom is my world. She’s amazing and I love her. She works crazy hours and puts up with the worst kind of shit at her job just to keep a roof over our heads, and I respect that. She’s a smart woman and would do anything for me, but put an attractive, rich man in front of her, and the woman turns to Jell-O.
Pushing the clothes off my bed, I drop down at the end of it and fall back against my pillow while Erica does the same, only flipping around so her feet are up near my face. “Tell me all about it,” she says as I grab the other pillow and throw it down to her.
“Which part?” I question with a breathy scoff, leaning across my bed to reach the old blinds above the small window, knowing that my neighbor likes to look in, especially when I have friends over. “The party or the awkward, sweaty fucking?”
“Definitely the awkward, sweaty fucking,” she laughs. “We can get to the party later.”
Pushing up onto my elbow, I look down at her at the opposite end of my bed, a grin pulling at my lips. “Did I ever tell you how Colby does this weird grunting thing? Like he matches his grunts to his thrusts. It’s very off-putting. A girl doesn’t stand a chance with him. It’s impossible to get in the zone with that going on in your ear.”
Erica snorts a laugh, which only makes us both crack into uncontrollable fits of laughter, and just as I expected, all thoughts of Colby fade away, leaving me with nothing but talk of Mr. StickUpAss and his spilled beer.
Just as I finish telling Erica all about our intense stare-off and my bold attitude, my bedroom door flies open and Mom stands in my doorway, her lips pressed into a hard line. I didn’t even hear her come in, but I rarely do. She’s more than considerate when she’s coming in late and always takes her heels off at the door so she doesn’t wake me.