Dare You to Hate Me

My eye twitches at her abrupt stop. I stare down at the dirt on the floor I must have tracked in after coming in to meet Aiden at our fort until I hear another sigh escape her. “I want what’s best for both of my children. Parents have to learn lessons to help teach their kids. I’m saving you from making my same mistakes.”

When I finally find the courage to lift my head and face her, she’s not even looking at me. Her eyes are trained on the coffee dribbling into the half-full pot in front of her. “And what mistakes are those? Having us in the first place? It seems like that’s a reoccurring regret you like to remind us of.”

The room grows eerily quiet save the drip, drip, drip of coffee as it fills to the top of the pot.

“I swear, I don’t know how to handle you and your mouth sometimes,” she replies a few long heartbeats later. She pours herself a cup of coffee before walking over to the table without glancing at me once. “I don’t need all this extra chaos right now, Ivy. And that’s all you are when you throw these little tantrums. I’m sorry I can’t be like your friend’s mother, but you’re stuck with me. If you don’t like it, perhaps you should go to Grandma Gertie’s for a little while.”

I stiffen at the comment. “What?”

Mom sets her cup down and picks up her checkbook again. Her eyes shift to me. “I’m not saying I don’t love you, but you create more problems than I need. It seems like nothing I do is enough. I give you money for food and you complain about not having money to go to the city. I ask you to watch Porter while I go to the store and help your father and you act like I’m ruining your life. What do I need to do to show you I’m trying here? What do I have to do to get it through your head that life isn’t fair?”

My lips part to say something, but I realize I have nothing. No suggestion. No comeback. Not even an apology. Because I’ve learned not even those can mend what distance is separating us further and further from each other with every conversation we have.

“Maybe going to Gertie’s wouldn’t be so bad,” she admonishes. Gertie lives clear across the state, close to the Canadian border. “She loves baking, I’m sure she could teach you a thing or two. And it’s no big city, but she lives in a far bigger town than Haven Falls. There are opportunities for you that we can’t offer here.”

“Are you really trying to get rid of me?”

She closes her eyes and says nothing.

“You’d feel bad if I left,” I inform her, standing up and waiting for a reply. “You’d miss me, especially because I wouldn’t be around to distract Porter while you and Dad argue about something stupid.”

Her voice is pained when she says, “Go to your room please. I don’t want to see your face for the rest of the day.”

I do as she asks, but her words echo in my head as I slip on a pair of shoes, open my bedroom window as quietly as possible, and throw a leg over the pane.

I don’t want to see your face.

It’s not the first time she’s told me that.

I know as soon as I walk in the house after a long shift at work and see all the girls stuffed into the small living room that there’s some sort of house meeting going on. And since I wasn’t invited, their cautious eyes as I enter say it’s about me. I stop by the archway and look around, meeting Raine’s eyes that instantly drop to the floor.

“What’s going on?” I ask.

Sydney flattens her shirt that looks way too fancy for a night in. She always dresses to impress whenever Remi comes over. “We’ve been waiting for you. I have some bad news that I had to discuss with the girls to prepare them.”

Dread fills my stomach.

She walks over and gives me the fakest sympathetic smile known to man. “I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but we can’t let you live in the basement anymore. The owners came over and said we could get in a lot of trouble if anyone finds out you live in a room that isn’t thoroughly inspected. I’m sure you get it.”

My heart thumps wildly in my chest at the news that bitch slaps me in the face as my eyes snap to the others, specifically Raine who still can’t look at me. “So, what?” I let out a sharp breath before gripping the strap of my bag until my fingers are white. “There’s no other room I can take? I can sleep on the cou—”

“We all decided,” I’m cut off, the she devil smiling at me with her inte

ntions leaking out of her eyes. “We’re sorry, Ivy. If you need help packing I’m sure one of the girls can give you a hand.”

A million thoughts swirl in my head as I’m dismissed, but none of them can be verbalized past the shock. Jaw tight, I walk downstairs and hear the sudden chatter from the living room fade into nothingness.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, I drop my backpack on the floor and look around. I shouldn’t be upset, but now it’s back to square one and I’m staring at defeat in the form of stained ceilings, half-finished walls, and poor hospitality. Once the shock wears off, I won’t miss the horrible smell, the leaks, or parties.

I’ll be better off.

Happier, even.

It isn’t until hesitant footsteps come down some minutes later when I make myself stand and pretend not to care that any of this is happening. The aching feeling to release some of the stress in my body comes back full force when I see Raine pop up at the doorway. I’ve managed to push off the feeling before, telling myself not to go back to that place that demands relief. With every heavy blow I’m dealt, it becomes harder to ignore the need to succumb to old habits.

“Ivy?” Raine’s quiet voice does little to ease my clenched fists as she walks further in. All I can think about is which way to release the pressure crawling under my skin. How I can get back some semblance of control. “I’m so sorry. She sprung this on us out of nowhere. I mean, her godparents did come and look around but none of us knew they told her you had to go. It seemed like they were just here to check in.”

I don’t want to fault her or anyone else here for what Sydney and her pretentious connections do. “She makes the rules around here,” I murmur, squatting down and collecting my duffle bags from underneath the bed. “There isn’t anything you could have done.”