mother encouraged me to, saying they would help erase the shame and dirtiness I’d been feeling. I’d just had sex for the first time with a guy who pretty much used me and it turned out the pill worked brilliantly, numbing almost all of my emotions. So I’ve been taking them ever since.
Sighing, I get dressed in a light-blue sundress, twist my hair up with some clips, and head to the kitchen to clean up the floor. Last night I spilled a bunch of wine on it, but I was too drunk to clean it up and now it’s stuck to the tile and is stinking up the house. I grab a barely touched sponge and some cleaner out from under the sink, then try not to gag as I put a pair of rubber gloves on and get down on my hands and knees.
I hate cleaning up the house and try to avoid doing any sort of cleaning at all cost. I’d been having someone come clean the house since Ella left, but I’m running low on cash and can’t afford her anymore. I get down on my hands and knees with a bucket of water and a sponge. As I’m scrubbing the floors, my mother calls me and I almost laugh to myself, wondering what she would do if she saw me on my hands and knees scrubbing dirt off the floor with a sponge.
I turn around and sit down before answering my phone, noticing that I’ve missed a call from Ella, like Ethan suspected. “Yes, mother,” I answer.
“Have you changed your mind about coming home?” She’s been saying the same thing to me ever since I announced my sudden decision to move to Vegas and attend UNLV over a year and a half ago. I’d just graduated from boarding school and had returned home for the summer. My family thought I was going to Yale in the fall, only because I’d lied to everyone and told them I was. I felt ashamed and I was angry at myself for feeling that way, like I couldn’t just admit that I wasn’t smart enough to go to a fancy school. I’d felt ashamed for the last four years and I didn’t want to feel that way anymore. I knew eventually I’d have to tell everyone that I didn’t get accepted to Yale or any other Ivy League school, so instead of facing it, I left. I packed my shit, opened a map, and pointed to a random place, which ended up being Vegas. I said good-bye to my mother and she fought me the entire way, yelling and screaming and saying that I’d never make it on my own. But I had money and decent grades and UNLV accepted me in a heartbeat.
“No,” I respond with the same answer I always give her. “And I already told you I wasn’t going to change my mind.”
“Well, I was hoping that your mind decided to be smart,” she counters. “But then again, I guess I should know better. You’ve proved over the last many, many years, just how stupid your decisions can be.” She sounds more and more like myfather the more time goes on. She’s almost like clay, easily pliable and shapeable.
I pick at my nail polish, debating whether to go to my room and take another pill. She’s taking a jab at me for the huge mistake she’ll never be able to forgive me for, not only because of what it made me look like but because it made her and my father look like they raised a slut.
“Did you call for a reason?” I ask calmly “Or to just complain about me?”
“Your father wants you to come home,” she states in a subdued voice. “He says if you do he’ll give you back your car and credit cards.”
“As always, I’m going to have to decline his offer.”
“Well, as always you’re going to make dumb choices that make this entire family look bad. Between your sister being a waitress and having an illegitimate child and your living in Vegas in an
apartment
, we look like the low-lives of the community.”
“Well, maybe you should just tell everyone we’re dead, then.” I feel numb as I say it and I’m thankful for the medication in my system. “I mean, we both know how great you are about making up cover stories when one of us screws up.”
She laughs cynically into the phone. “Well,
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