Ritual - Palm South University

But he’s right.

I can’t make choices for him, and he’s grown enough now to know the possible consequences of the decisions he’s making. And hadn’t I done the same, given our mother chance after chance until she’d burned me enough times that I learned not to get close to the fire ever again?

I scrub my hands over my face, trying to soothe my uneven breathing enough to get through the rest of the night. My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I yank it out, expecting to see Becca’s warm smile on my screen.

Instead, it’s a black screen with the name ERIN XANDER in white letters at the top.

My stomach drops, and I stare at the vibrating device for what feels like an eternity with my heart in my throat. When I don’t answer, she goes to voicemail, a missed call notification taking the place of her name on the screen. But before I can put the phone back in my pocket, it rings again.

Erin.

I answer quickly this time, snapping back to reality like waking from a dream. “Erin? Are you okay? What’s going on?”

“Hey,” she answers softly, tentatively. “Oh gosh, yes, I’m fine, I’m sorry if I worried you. I just wasn’t sure if my first call came through but… oh, you’re probably busy. I’m sorry. I’ll just—”

“Don’t hang up.”

A silent moment passes between us as my racing heart slows to its normal rate, and I run a hand through my short hair, turning away from where I can still see my mom and brother through the backyard gate.

“Did I catch you at a bad time?” Erin finally asks.

I want to laugh, because every time is a bad time for me — ever since the last night Erin and I talked.

“Why did you call me, Ex?”

I hear a shaky inhale on the other end, a shuffling of papers. “I’d like to talk to you.”

“So, talk.”

“Not on the phone,” she explains. “I was wondering if we could have dinner.”

My heart stops, skipping a few beats before it hammers back to life. “Dinner.”

“If that would be okay.”

I glance over my shoulder and see Mrs. Harrison and Clayton leading Mom back inside the house, and I nod to my little brother, signaling that I’ll be right in.

“I’m out of town.”

“Oh…” Erin pauses. “Okay. I’m sorry, I—”

“I’ll be back next week.”

I swallow, my stomach so fucked up from the emotions of the day, I’m not sure I’ll be able to hold down the beer churning inside it.

“Okay,” Erin whispers. “How about the Sunday after Halloween? Eros?”

Eros is a small Greek restaurant off campus, and one of my favorites.

“What time?”

“Seven okay?”

I nod, more to myself than to her, as if I need that assurance from myself that I can do this, that I can have dinner with Erin and somehow live through it. “See you then.”

I don’t wait for a response before I end the call, and I don’t allow myself to simmer on the sound of her voice, or the fact that I’ll be meeting up with her when I get back to Florida. Instead, I shove the phone in my pocket and put out the bonfire on my way back inside to suffer through whatever time I have left with my mother.

One monster at a time.“ALRIGHT, LET’S MAKE THIS happen,” I say, blowing a whistle through my teeth when I flip over the bottom card in my dealer stack. The top one was a Jack of spades, and the bottom is a three of hearts.

“Come on, come on,” Chelsea says from the edge of the table. I learned earlier tonight that she’s in banking, and the hot stud next to her who can’t be any older than me is James, her “friend” from out of town.

They’ve been making out all night between hands, and judging by the ring on her finger, I’d say Chelsea is up to no good.

But it’s not for me to judge. My job tonight is to lose as many hands as the cards will let me.

Because the more the Blackjack dealer loses, the more she gets tipped.

Casino Boat 101.

I flip the next card, and it’s a two of hearts, giving me a fifteen.

“Bust! Bust! Come on!” Roberto says. He’s short and spunky and has been smoking like a chimney all night, but he’s also been the only one tipping me between hands.

I like Roberto.

I cringe, eyeing the next card before I flip it with a satisfied grin.

King of clubs.

The table roars, everyone thrusting their hands up into the air and high-fiving each other as I pay out the winnings and clear the cards.

I’ve been working on the boat for a couple months now, and one thing I’ve figured out for sure — I love it. I love being on a boat with people letting loose for the night. I love the freedom we all feel in international waters, like nothing is off limits, like the night is forever young. I love the clouds of smoke and the dinging bells of the slot machines and the distant roars of each table when they beat the dealer or get a good roll in Craps.