Page 69 of Rivals
“You’ve been asking a lot of questions lately.” She shrugs and pretends to wipe the counter that’s already clean.
“You’ve been acting like you’ve been PMSing for way too long. I know you’re not simply tired. The way you stormed in here this morning is not the look of a girl who should be glowing because of a man like that. I know pissy Revna and this is much worse.”
My heart thuds in my chest, and the panic starts to rise. I almost sprint through the doors to toss back a pill, but then I really will out myself to her. Her response certainly won’t be the same as Lachlan’s, which isn’t much better. Still judgey but still reluctantly accepting. I almost tell her I would be glowing and maybe a little more relaxed if Lachlan was actually a good person, but here I am.
That tiredness is a result of the conflicting feelings that have only gotten heavier since I found out about my mom. I’ve spent most of my days running from it, only it keeps catching up. I feel like I’m getting heavier and heavier. The only way to get it out is to work, paint something, or get high. “I don’t want to talk about it, Betty.”
“Well, honey, you’ll have to talk about it sometime. Otherwise, I think you’re going to burst.”
I ignored her for the rest of the day, pulled a double, and earned triple the tips. I pull my phone out of my bag as I trek back home. I smell like gravy, and it’s not a comforting smell. It’s like it spoiled from sitting in the sun too long. Gross.
Chapter 44
Revna
Lachlan:Cometomyplace tonight, I get off at 8. I think we should start brainstorming.
I sigh and toss the phone back into my bag. I know if I don’t respond, he will just come here instead. I don’t have anything better to do, and this is my main priority. I’ve been choosing to sweep everything else under the rug because it’s a lot easier. Eventually, the dust bunnies will fade away.
It’s been almost a week since I’ve seen him. I’ve made decent tips, but even if I add them up after my own expenses and then average it out, assuming I won’t make the same tips every month, I know I'm going to lose our bet before I have a chance to fight it.
I think the smell of gravy and hash browns is a part of my hair now, and I can’t seem to wash it out since I’ve been working doubles so much. Luckily, I was able to buy more OBA since it's selling like hotcakes, so this week has felt like it’s gone a lot smoother compared to if I didn’t have it.
Lachlan and I haven’t seen each other. I assumed he was booking a lot of appointments, too. He’s been quiet. Betty has calmed down to the point she has been asking a lot less questions. Maybe I got them to believe I’m fine.
After I get out of the shower, I spot the letter I slid under a book. I wasn’t hiding it, but I don’t think Lachlan saw it when he was here. It’s stayed where I shoved it ever since. Plus, if he did see it, he likely would have asked me why I got something from a law firm in Kansas.
I sit on my bed with my towel wrapped around me, utterly exhausted. I could burn the letter. That would be the end of it, there would be no going back, and then I could move on with my life.But what if. What if she said she’s sorry? What if she left me money, and I could use that for our trip, which would definitely help me in the long run? What if she has the reasons why she left me at a fire station and then disappeared from my life, leaving me to fend for myself in ways no child should have to?
I didn’t tell Lachlan that part, but I'm sure he suspected it. It’s not information that I want to volunteer, and it doesn’t matter. It’s water under the bridge. Maybe my mom should be, too.
I flip the envelope back and forth in my fingers. If I open this, it could also be the closure I need. Then again, maybe closure is overrated. On the other hand, it may not change anything for me. It could just be meaningless words on paper.
I set the envelope back down and get dressed. I’ll be late to Lachlan’s, and I don’t want to take a cab to get there, so I need to leave now before it gets too dark. I hate that the dark has come to scare me now, except maybe a little less when I’m tripping. It’s weird how there are different forms of darkness, and this one is terrifying. I wish I could keep the one that wraps around to comfort you at night. I’ve only experienced it with Lachlan lying next to me. He would whisper sweet things in my ear and hold me tight. A small part of me figured Lachlan would try and define us because he wants more with me. He hasn’t, so that little voice in my head keeps telling me to hold back because when this is over, I’m sure he will leave, despite his words.
It’s only a matter of time because everyone does.
I glance at my little baggie of purple pills. I want to some, but I’m trying to throw Lachlan off the scent that I’m addicted to a drug that isn’t technically supposed to be addictive. It’s more of the feeling that I get when I take it that I’m addicted to. Everything else washes away, and it’s like life suddenly doesn’t feel like it constantly has its hands around my neck. It’s nice to be able to breathe every once in a while.
My phone buzzes as I finish pulling my t-shirt on.
Lachlan: I can come and get you, the sun is almost down.
Revna: good thing I can walk fast.
Lachlan: be careful little bird.
I’m not going to lie, I like that he cares enough to check in with me. It feels…good. I hurry down the busy street as the sun slowly descends out of sight. My heart pumps hard, and I try to ignore the panic, forcing my feet to move faster. It’s ok, I’m ok.
I hurry past a bakery and stop, hesitating at the glass where I can see the muffins, bagels, and other baked goods. I open the door and decide it’s time for me to treat Lachlan. I grab a couple of muffins and bagels with two coffees, hoping I don’t drop them as I run to his place.
I kick the door with my shoe because my hands are full. He answers the door without a shirt, and I drag my eyes across him. “What’s that?” he asks, looking at the bag in my hand.
“I brought something this time.” His expression drops and he stares at me like I grew another head. “Are you going to let me in?”
“Oh, yeah, sorry,” he says, stepping to the side. I go to the kitchen and set everything on the countertop. “So, did you come up with anything yet?”
I spin around and take a sip from my coffee. “Um…no.” I look at him a little longer, and he reaches for his cup. “Do you ever wear a shirt?” I ask him.
