Beach Side Beds and Sandy Paths by Becca Ann, Tessa Marie Page A

be angry. I want it all to go away… she’s the only one who does that for me.
    But I’m not going to use her. I won’t even kiss her. I just need to hold her. Hold her all night. Hold on to the one thing in my life that doesn’t make me angry.
    I tap my screen and press the phone to my ear. It’s late, but she’ll answer, even if she’s sleeping.
    “Hey, Ry. Sorry I didn’t text back.”
    I smile just from the sound of her voice, sappy as that is.
    “That’s okay.”
    “I miss you, too, though, if that counts several hours later.”
    “It does.”
    Man, my voice is shaky, and my eyes are watering. I hate that I act like a pussy when I get overwhelmed.
    “Are you okay?”
    She can always tell when I’m not, so I don’t lie my ass off.
    “Not really. Can you come over? I need you.”
    “Ry…” She sighs, and I know what look she’s got on her face. She’s pulling on her ring and giving a semi-pout, her big brown eyes getting glossed over.
    She can’t.
    “I’m sorry, I’m out with my mom right now. She’s having a rough night.”
    “Oh, that’s okay. I’ll just see you tomorrow.”
    “No wait, don’t be upset.”
    “I’m not.” Because I’m not. Not with her.
    “Ryan…”
    “Really, it’s okay. Take care of your mom. I’ll still be here tomorrow.” If Grams doesn’t castrate me in my sleep.
    “I love you.”
    “Love you, too.”
    I hang up before she can feel bad any more about me. She’s got enough to deal with. She doesn’t need my crap too.
    Throwing myself on the bed, I set my phone to silent because I know Lex will call as soon as she can, and I’m hoping to be dead asleep when she does.

Chapter 8
    Lexie
     
    The color is back in Mom’s cheeks. It’s amazing what a burger from Skippy Lee’s can do for a girl. Funny, how only a few months ago I wouldn’t be caught dead with Mom at the local hangout, but she’s not the town drunk anymore. I’m proud of her. People should know that.
    Her hands still shake, but she kept her composure when she couldn’t keep her water from sloshing over the sides. I got her a straw , and the problem was solved. Still I could see frustration pulling at the corners of her eyes. She’s going through hell. If I could I would switch places with her. Take away the pain, the shakes, the insatiable urge to give up and go back to the bottle.
    I take the blanket off the back of the couch and lay it across her. Lately the only time she seems to be at peace is when she’s sleeping. I’m not going to wake her just so she can move to her bed. Besides she’s spent so many nights on the couch it’s basically her bed anyway.
    I tiptoe to my room and ease the door shut. She doesn’t need me anymore tonight, but there’s someone who does.
    I’ve known Ryan long enough to detect any discontent in his tone. Tonight he might as well have opened my bottle of ‘ Need Sunglasses’ nail polish and painted “I’m miserable” on the wall.
    Normally I would let it go —go to sleep and talk to him in the morning. But if it was the other way around, he would be waiting at my window for me to get home, ready to jump in, take me in his arms, and hold me until I didn’t want to be held anymore. Why does it always have to be the guy who is the knight in shining armor? I want to be the warrior princess in a glittery tiara.
    It’s been awhile since I’ve climbed out my bedroom window and when I realized Mom was serious about the whole getting sober thing, I decided my window escaping days were over. I’m taking it back though, just for tonight.
    I pull on one of Ryan’s hoodies I stole and will never give back— it smells too good and fits just right— then jump up on my dresser, reach for the perfect topping to my surprise, and slide out into the cool spring evening. Stars sparkle in the dark sky, and I make my way to the shed.
    Even though I haven’t r idden my bike since I got my license, and Ryan fixed up Roger’s old car for me, my landlord still