Page 48 of I Knew You Were Trouble

“So you have enough to spot me for the month.” Relief starts to replace the bite in his tone. I better stop him before he gets too happy.

“Dad… I have enough to provide Demi a good Christmas. I was gonna ask her to spend the night on Christmas Eve at my place. Mad and I will make sure she has a good breakfast and a few gifts.”

A buzz runs through the phone, and I pull the screen away to see if he’s still on the line.

“Dad?”

“Why would you take her for Christmas?” he spits out.

“You just said you didn’t have anything for her.” Frustration runs under my tired skin, waking it up. I push my hair back and grip it, trying to iron out my temper. “I’ve been saving up for it.”

“And my mortgage?”

“That’s not my responsibility,” I blurt, and the ingrained guilt he planted in me long ago starts growing in my chest. “But I will try to help. I can’t pay for it all.”

“You have enough for pointless presents, but not enough to keep a roof over her head?” He lets out a humorless laugh. “I thought I taught you priorities, PJ.”

I grit my teeth so hard I can hear them rub against each other. I sit up straight, resting my elbows on my knees. He’s one to talk about priorities. His pills and booze have always been up there at the top, and it’s exactly why he’s out of workagain.

“Demi’s happiness is my priority.” It is myonlypriority right now. “Bailing you out over and over again isn’t helping anyone.”

“Bailing me out?” His voice rises, and I brace myself for the wrath. “Boy, I provided for you your whole life. Now when I need your help, you turn your back.”

“I didn’t say I wasn’t helping, Dad.”

“You should be grateful. Happy even.”

The guilt weaves around my organs, squeezing the life out of me. Thorns from its branches pierce my stomach, my heart, my brain, and I put my head in my palms, wheezing for breath. He’s so blind to how much he relied on me and my sister. He’s so out of this world, preferring to live in a haze, unable to process just how resentful I am for my upbringing.

I never got to finish high school. My senior year, he practically forced me to work more hours, get a bigger paycheck, help out more at home. And the expenses were my fault; I ate too much food, spent too much time on the TV, left lights on… and I believed every word of it.

“How could I be happy about this, Dad?” I ask him, my voice utterly defeated. I won’t win this argument. I never could. I’ll be sending a payment to his mortgage company just as soon as I get to a computer. Unfortunately, I don’t trust him with cash. “You chose your drugs over your family.”

“I don’t smoke anymore.”

I’m not talking about the weed, and he knows it. “The drug test was a fluke?”

“Yes.”

He’s always denied it, and there he goes again. But I know where the stash is. I know what times of day he pops one. I’ve stolen some of it before, back when I was fourteen and in the first stages of my rebel years. Candace would probably shit a brick if she knew that I once stole my dad’s fentanyl and then dumped it after one dose just for spite.

And he didn’t say anything. Still hasn’t. He doesn’t abuse drugs, after all.

“Look, I gotta clock back in,” I tell him, not completely untrue. I want at least ten minutes of shut-eye. “I’ll make a payment to your mortgage company tomorrow, okay?”

“And Christmas?” he grunts. “You still taking Demi for that?”

“Yes.” I won’t let him decide that for me, too. “Mad and I will pick her up on the 24th.”

He hangs up the same way he answers—no warning. I put the phone down and rest it on my leg, rubbing out the stress from my eyes. Maddie won’t be too happy with me; with paying his mortgage and Christmas, I won’t have much left to contribute to our own utilities. She’s been out of the house as much as I have, but she’s preparing for her boarding competition and hasn’t had much luck on the second job front. Not many places are willing to be so flexible.

I take note of the time. She’s boarding in the Wheel Zone right now. I should probably go warn her.

Right as I go to stand up, another vibration from my phone pauses my butt mid-rise from the couch.

Mom.

I let out another groan and flump back down. “Hi, Mom.”

---