Oh, right, sorry. She doesn’t have a heart.
I’d decided that being abandoned on my birthday earned me a few hours of bitterness. I sure hoped Mommy dearie wouldn’t mind that I invited the football team over to spend those hours with me.
I didn’t know why I’d expected this year to be different. The note on the fridge was the same. So was the empty house. The previous year, her excuse to avoid pretending that she was happy about my existence had been work—at least she’d left me with my siblings that time. But since she’d just lost her job, she’d had to be imaginative.
She’d really thought this whole thing through, even found something she couldn’t invite me to in case my dad asked why she took off on my birthday. She knew damn well Jaden and Maika’s grandmother didn’t want a relationship with me. She’d made it clear that I was in no way blood related to her son Harry, therefore not a part of their family.
Lauren was probably going to blame it on Harry’s mother’s heart condition, say that Claire was getting old and the kids needed to spend as much time with her as possible, and my sweetheart of a dad would buy it. Of course he would.
He’d had to go out of town for work this weekend and promised to celebrate with me when he returned, which I knew he would, but waking up to an empty house and finding that note had ruined my day before it could even start. You know how they say you only remember the bad comments?
My mom’s the bad comment I will never forget.
I played the note over in my head.
Went to visit your dad’s parents. You’re an adult now. I trust you to be responsible while we’re gone.
I tipped the bottle back, letting the alcohol course down my throat. I winced at the taste, squeezing my eyes shut so tight a tear fell out. I’d never been much of a drinker, but, hey, like she said, I was an adult now. Well, technically, I’d be an adult at midnight, but who cares? She sure didn’t.
There was a knock on the door.
“Someone’s sick in here,” I shouted.
The person strangled a curse and walked off.
Technically, it wasn’t a lie.
I was sick. Sick of school, sick of being denied by my own mother, sick of never feeling good enough. Maybe spending the last few months of my senior year in Florida wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all. When my mom told me I had to move there for a bit, I wasn’t keen on the idea, but now?
Anywhere was better than here.
Another knock, this time louder, made me jump. He really couldn’t take a hint.
“I said someone’s sick!”
“Winter?” a familiar voice asked.
Ah. Shit.
“Nope. Sorry. No Winter here.” I took a sip and muttered under my breath. “What kind of whack name is that anyway?” I always did wonder what my mom was thinking. She could’ve chosen something more common like Sarah or Jennifer, but nope, she’d given birth to me in Canada, a place where it snowed almost all year long, and called me Winter—freaking Winter.
“How fucked-up are you?” He tried to turn the knob. “Open the door.”
“Go away, Caleb.”
“You told Allie you were going to the bathroom two hours ago. We were worried.”
“I’m fine. Go back to the party.”
There was a beat of silence.
“I can just get the key your mom keeps in the kitchen drawer, you know?”
Downside of being friends with someone since you were three: they know everything, even the stuff you don’t want them to.
I considered my next move for a few seconds and groaned in defeat, pulling myself up to unlock the door. The knob twisted open, and I drooped back down, leaning against the tub and cradling my knees to my body.
Caleb stood with one foot in the doorway, not completely inside but not out into the hallway either. He took in my breakdown, zeroing in on my mascara-tinted cheeks, red eyes, and finally, the glass bottle at my feet.