Page 118 of Composed
Chapter thirty-six
Hendrix • Then
Pressure – Paramore
Eighteen Years Old
Home,sweethome.
My mum screams downstairs.
I slip out of bed, wrap my arms around myself, and inhale the sweet scent of Cole left on the jumper I stole from him yesterday.
My room is a mess of bags and boxes. Everything of my life in the last year sits on the carpet, taunting me with my reality for another summer.
Two more to go, then I’m out of this hell hole for good.
I’ve just got to be patient and wait for the summer I graduate. Then, I’ll have access to the inheritance my nana left and I can leave this house, and the people living inside of it, behind without looking back.
Another shout breaches my door, followed by the sound of shattering glass.
I pull on a pair of leggings, slip my feet into Vans, and grab my skateboard.
This is the last place I want to be right now. But Cole is in Turkey with his parents, Saint and Theo are in Skegness, and Carter and Axel are on some stag do in Benidorm with some of their old school friends.
My only other option is crashing in Saint's shed for a couple days. It wouldn't be the first time I've done it, but his mum has a new boyfriend who is always around and the guy gives me the creeps.
So it’s just me in Chesterton with nowhere else to go.
I tip-toe down into the hallway as my mum wails.
My dad blares back at her, his voice rough, deep, and fucking terrifying as it vibrates through the house.
I freeze at the top of the stairs, my hand tight around the railing.
The front door rattles the foundations when it slaps shut. Then I hear the sound of wheels against concrete from outside and he’s gone.
Skateboard tight in my grip, I slip through the cherry scented kitchen.
Ironic, really. The house smells sweet at all times, but there’s nothing sweet inside these walls.
Glass from a broken vase crunches beneath my shoes. I grab a breakfast bar from the cupboard, shove it in my pocket, and start for the back door only to pause when my mum ambles into the room.
Her cheeks are tear-stained, eyes red-rimmed and haunting when they flicker over me. “I didn’t know you were coming back.”
“I didn’t think you’d care,” I quip. “You never have before.”
She huffs a breath. “That’s not fair.”
“Isn’t it?” A dry laugh sits on my tongue. “Be real with me for once in my life, Mum.”
Her eyes drop to the island as she slides onto a stool and hunches over the marble. “It’s complicated, Hendrix.”
“What’s so complicated?” My grip tightens on my board. “You chose this life, you choseme, and then you spent every day making sure I knew what a mistake that choice was.”
She stays silent.
I tug my lip stud until it stings.
