Going Deep (Imperfect Love 2)

“I was looking for your eyeliner. I’m sorry. Now, tell me you’re going.” Her voice is demanding, and her hand goes to her hip. I have to bite down on my bottom lip to stifle my laugh at my little sister’s attitude. “Giselle, tell me you’re going,” she repeats.

“Addy…”

“No, don’t you dare ‘Addy’ me. I don’t want to hear some bullshit excuse about you needing to stay here for Mom. She’s been like this for as long as we can remember, and it’s never going to get better. This is your out.” She snatches the paper back from me, waving it in the air. “Run, Giselle, and don’t look back.”

“One, you’re thirteen, don’t say bullshit.” She rolls her eyes and tilts her head to the side, waiting for me to continue. “And two, I can’t leave you—” Before I can finish my sentence, Adrianna cuts me off.

“One, you’re not my mother, and mine is too depressed and out of it to give a shit what language I use.” She purses her lips together in defiance, daring me to argue. I know her words aren’t meant to be hurtful. We’ve grown up taking care of one another. But with my being five years older, I’ve always tried to be the mother she’s never really had. However, as she gets older, she often says she prefers me to act like her sister and not her mom, which is understandable. But that doesn’t stop me from trying.

“And two,” she continues, “this is your dream, to study interior design in Paris, and there’s no way you’re not following it, just to stay here in this hellhole for me. I’ll be fine. You’re going to do whatever you’re supposed to do to let them know you’ll be there, and then you’re going to get on that damn plane after graduation and get out of here.”

Tears prick my eyes as I stare at my beautiful, grownup sister. Sure, she’s only thirteen, but because of the life we’ve had to endure, she’s been forced to grow up twice as fast as other kids her age. I can’t imagine being across the pond from her for a week, let alone for years, and with us having no money, who knows when I’ll be able to come back and visit. But for her, I will find a way. If I have to work full-time while going to school, I will. I’ll do whatever I have to do to make sure she’s okay.

“I’m going to miss you,” I tell her.

She snakes her arms around my waist and rests her head on my shoulder. “And I’m going to miss you, but in five years I’ll be out of here as well, and I can tell you one thing. I’m not staying here for mom. I love her with everything in me, but I can’t live like this forever.”

“Promise me that if you need me, you’ll call. I don’t care what I’m doing, I’ll come home,” I murmur.

“I promise. Now, can I borrow twenty bucks? I’m meeting some friends at the movies.” She backs out of our hug and bats her lashes innocently. I sigh dramatically then giggle.

“Sure, how about I drop you off on my way to Christian’s house?”

Adrianna rolls her eyes. “I don’t need my big sister to hold my hand on the subway.”

“I know you don’t need me to, but I would feel better if I did. I’m heading that way anyway.”

Adrianna huffs in annoyance. “Fine, but only because I know you’ll withhold the money until I agree. Let’s go.”

After checking on our sleeping mom, we head out to the Rye Metro station. After making sure Adrianna makes it safely to the IMAX theater in Rochelle—and only once I see her and her friends go inside—I head back to the station, jump on the 6 and take it to Lafayette. I get off then take the F to the Lower East Side. The entire trip is a good seventy minutes, and I’m lucky enough to get an actual seat, so I use the time to pull up the online application to NYU Paris. Without giving myself time to second-guess my decision, I click accept. Even with the help of financial aid, I’m not sure how I’m going to be able to afford it. But my sister is right, this is my dream, and I will always regret it if I don’t follow it.

When East Broadway lights up, I stand and make my way to the doors, so I can exit. I climb the steps and glance around for Christian. He said he would meet me here. I spot him across the street and wave. I know he sees me when his face breaks out into a huge grin. With black curly hair, onyx eyes, and dozens of tattoos running up and down his arms, he is the epitome of a bad boy. He’s also my best friend and boyfriend. I run across the crosswalk and throw myself into his awaiting arms. He lifts me up, twirls me around in a circle, and kisses me passionately.