years. Then she says, “I promise.”
But her promise wasn’t enough for Mom. Edenville was over. Until now.
Now, Callie’s snoring lightly right next to me, warm and close. It’s three years later and we’re not little girls anymore. The vodka bottle we drank from to play that stupid game earlier is on the bedside table. For my mother, the best way to deal with nights like this is oblivion. I run a finger along the side of the bottle, telling myself I’m not going to drink the burning liquid, let it rush down my throat. It’s one thing to drink for fun. But no matter how dark I feel, I’m going to rise abovethe past. I’m going to let the darkness inside me fade. I imagine breathing in light. Focus on the
now,
Ivy.
Callie’s here.
I kissed Kurt at BEneath.
New town.
New life.
New me.
ELEVEN DAYS EARLIER
Callie
It’s the morning after and I wake feeling revolting. My head hurts, my mouth is furry and my back kills. I roll onto my side and bump into Ivy. I’ve turned upside-down in my sleep so the two of us are lying head to toe in Ivy’s massive bed. I’m snarled up in bedsheets and my face is way too close to her feet, the toenails painted with bright pink polish. I’m reminded of all those sleepovers we had, whispering together late into the night. I shiver and sit up, but immediately wish I’d stayed lying down. The roomspins and I remember tumbling into bed like a starfish tumbles through the ocean, if they even do that. Even my thoughts are confused, as if I’m still drunk.
I got
drunk
last night. I try to piece together the details. The fake ID, Kurt and Xander, dancing with Ivy, then me insisting we buy more drinks, vodka, paying for it, even, then drinking two disgusting shots in a row. After that, Kurt and Ivy. Dancing together, Kurt looking down at her. Then Ivy dancing with me again, pressed close, doing that thing I’ve seen other girls do when they get physical on the dance floor, all sexy and showy, turning on the guys. I’ve always thought it was slutty but it’s fun.
I don’t remember much more. Ivy saying she’d take me home. This bed, this comfortable bed.
I check my phone. Wow. It’s not even six. I should get home, but I really don’t feel like it. Even if Cosmo wakes her, Mom won’t go into my room this early. She’ll never know I’ve been gone.
Ivy sleeps while I shower in her huge ensuite bathroom; she sleeps while I put on my jeans and blacksweater, leaving that slinky green dress hanging over the back of a chair; she sleeps while I scrub my face and brush my teeth, trying to remove the taste and smell of last night. Ivy’s still asleep while I slip out of the house. I wander down toward the river, ignoring the way my head hurts and the way I’m dizzy, the dawn brightening around me.
At around six thirty, I text my mom: Went out for a walk, up early. Lovely day . It’s weird to think she’ll never know I snuck out last night.
My phone rings immediately. It’s her. “Are you okay, Callie? I didn’t hear you leave.”
Since our fight, she’s alternated between being over-concerned and distant. Clearly, right now she’s over-concerned.
“You don’t have to check up on me. I’m only going for breakfast.”
I can tell from her exhalation of breath that she’s annoyed. After a short pause she says, “How about I come with you?”
I’m way too hungover and tired, but I can’t tell her that. Fortunately, Cosmo starts yelling and she says, “Sorry, my love, actually there’s no way this morning. Next time, okay?”
My head throbs. “Okay, bye.”
I text Ivy to tell her I’ve gone for a walk. She doesn’t reply, so I assume she’s still sleeping. I feel like we’ve switched places from that first day with her jogging and me slouching under the covers. I’m in the weirdest mood, antsy, awkward, headachy. I know it would be smart to go home and crawl into bed, but the thought of Mom hassling me about sleeping all day is too much.
Then I
But her promise wasn’t enough for Mom. Edenville was over. Until now.
Now, Callie’s snoring lightly right next to me, warm and close. It’s three years later and we’re not little girls anymore. The vodka bottle we drank from to play that stupid game earlier is on the bedside table. For my mother, the best way to deal with nights like this is oblivion. I run a finger along the side of the bottle, telling myself I’m not going to drink the burning liquid, let it rush down my throat. It’s one thing to drink for fun. But no matter how dark I feel, I’m going to rise abovethe past. I’m going to let the darkness inside me fade. I imagine breathing in light. Focus on the
now,
Ivy.
Callie’s here.
I kissed Kurt at BEneath.
New town.
New life.
New me.
ELEVEN DAYS EARLIER
Callie
It’s the morning after and I wake feeling revolting. My head hurts, my mouth is furry and my back kills. I roll onto my side and bump into Ivy. I’ve turned upside-down in my sleep so the two of us are lying head to toe in Ivy’s massive bed. I’m snarled up in bedsheets and my face is way too close to her feet, the toenails painted with bright pink polish. I’m reminded of all those sleepovers we had, whispering together late into the night. I shiver and sit up, but immediately wish I’d stayed lying down. The roomspins and I remember tumbling into bed like a starfish tumbles through the ocean, if they even do that. Even my thoughts are confused, as if I’m still drunk.
I got
drunk
last night. I try to piece together the details. The fake ID, Kurt and Xander, dancing with Ivy, then me insisting we buy more drinks, vodka, paying for it, even, then drinking two disgusting shots in a row. After that, Kurt and Ivy. Dancing together, Kurt looking down at her. Then Ivy dancing with me again, pressed close, doing that thing I’ve seen other girls do when they get physical on the dance floor, all sexy and showy, turning on the guys. I’ve always thought it was slutty but it’s fun.
I don’t remember much more. Ivy saying she’d take me home. This bed, this comfortable bed.
I check my phone. Wow. It’s not even six. I should get home, but I really don’t feel like it. Even if Cosmo wakes her, Mom won’t go into my room this early. She’ll never know I’ve been gone.
Ivy sleeps while I shower in her huge ensuite bathroom; she sleeps while I put on my jeans and blacksweater, leaving that slinky green dress hanging over the back of a chair; she sleeps while I scrub my face and brush my teeth, trying to remove the taste and smell of last night. Ivy’s still asleep while I slip out of the house. I wander down toward the river, ignoring the way my head hurts and the way I’m dizzy, the dawn brightening around me.
At around six thirty, I text my mom: Went out for a walk, up early. Lovely day . It’s weird to think she’ll never know I snuck out last night.
My phone rings immediately. It’s her. “Are you okay, Callie? I didn’t hear you leave.”
Since our fight, she’s alternated between being over-concerned and distant. Clearly, right now she’s over-concerned.
“You don’t have to check up on me. I’m only going for breakfast.”
I can tell from her exhalation of breath that she’s annoyed. After a short pause she says, “How about I come with you?”
I’m way too hungover and tired, but I can’t tell her that. Fortunately, Cosmo starts yelling and she says, “Sorry, my love, actually there’s no way this morning. Next time, okay?”
My head throbs. “Okay, bye.”
I text Ivy to tell her I’ve gone for a walk. She doesn’t reply, so I assume she’s still sleeping. I feel like we’ve switched places from that first day with her jogging and me slouching under the covers. I’m in the weirdest mood, antsy, awkward, headachy. I know it would be smart to go home and crawl into bed, but the thought of Mom hassling me about sleeping all day is too much.
Then I
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