so why don’t you go sit down?”
“Is there, um, anything I can do to help?” Granted, I had been forced here, but they didn’t have to take me in. They could have said no.
“Don’t worry, sis. You’ll be on the chore chart soon enough,” Renee said, steering me toward the dining room table. Someone had already set out the plates, and there was a place set for me, with a card sitting on the plate, and yes, it was handmade.
“Taylor and Darah made that, so you have to gush about it even if you hate it,” Renee hissed as I opened it. How could I hate it? Someone had made some really cool designs with paint on the front that looked like fireworks, and there were letters cut from magazines spelling out the words WELCOME TO YELLOWFIELD HOUSE.
“Yellowfield House?” I said.
Renee rolled her eyes and sat down next to me, Paul on her other side. I caught him taking her hand under the table and giving it a squeeze.
“It was Taylor’s idea. She wanted it to be like in one of those British novels, where the house has a name. It was, like, the only way she’d agree to let us all live here. It was her one stipulation,” Renee said with a shrug.
“She wanted to make a sign and everything, but the rest of us vetoed it,” Paul said. “It was really cute, actually. She was so excited. And then we shot her down.”
“Um, weird,” I said.
“Shh,” Renee said as everyone else carried dishes and pans and other dinner paraphernalia. The second everyone sat down it was a chaos of passing plates and bumping elbows and trying to get everyone what they needed. Taylor had made spaghetti with an olive oil sauce with tons of vegetables and garlic bread and a salad. It was crazy delicious, and even though I’d consumed several of the cookies, I put away more than my share of dinner. It beat the hell out of the cafeteria food, or eating ramen for the millionth time.
Everyone laughed and talked about their day, and for the first time, I wasn’t the center of attention. It was really...nice. They were all just so damn happy and smiley and in love. It was enough to make me sick, but instead it somehow had the opposite effect. I’d really wanted to hate it here. It would have been more appropriate for me to hate it.
“Um, I still have some...stuff to unpack,” I said, getting up as soon as I could. I needed to get back to the loneliness of the basement. All the happy was screwing with my head. Renee shot me a look, but nodded.
“Are you sure you don’t want to hang out up here? You haven’t even seen the rest of the house yet,” Darah said, giving me a hopeful smile. I couldn’t really get out of that.
“Yeah, sure.” She led me upstairs, showing me her room, which was immaculate, as if they were selling the house and had a decorator come in to make it look good for prospective buyers. Renee refused to let us see her room, and Taylor only gave me a quick glance at her and Hunter’s suite on the top floor.
“Just ignore the clothes on the floor. I know I do.” Hunter and Taylor had tagged along for our little tour. It was technically his house, after all.
“Thanks. For...for letting me come here.” For letting my parents force me on you. I’m sure you had lots of choice in the matter.
“You’re welcome. Any member of Renee’s family is part of ours,” he said, putting an arm around Taylor. Did they have to do that all the time? “I hope everything...works out. I know what it’s like to go through a rough time.” Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’d heard all about Hunter’s and Taylor’s tragic pasts and subsequent “getting their shit together” moments. They were probably planning my intervention right now. Luring me into a false sense of security before springing it on me.
“Yeah, thanks,” I said as he closed their door and we went back downstairs.
“Are you sure you don’t want to join us for some music?” Darah said as she and Mase canoodled on the couch. What was this, the Partridge family? Seriously, these people were a Cleaver short of a heartwarming fifties family show. “Hunter’s a really good guitar player.”
“I’m good. I still have...stuff to do.”
“And things?” Renee said, giving me a look. Yeah, stuff and things, Renee.
“Am I not allowed to do stuff and things now? Was that the fifth rule on your list?” I snapped, realizing only after I’d said it that everyone could hear me.
“Whatever,” I said, heading for the basement. “I’m going to bed.” It was only eight, but I couldn’t take being around them anymore. They were just so damn happy. It was killing me. I needed to go back to the basement of doom and comfort myself with more cookies and heart-wrenching music.
“Good night,” they all chimed almost in unison. Sick, this was sick. Maybe there was something in the walls that seeped into their pores when they were sleeping. Or maybe it was the water?
I shook my head and walked back down to what I was quickly deciding was my cave. My basement of solitude.
My room reeked of the delicious cookies, and even though I was stuffed from dinner, I ate two more before heading to the shower. The water pressure was significantly better than the dorm, and I took my time, savoring the sensation on the back of my neck. All the showers in the world couldn’t wash away the darkness in my life, but that didn’t stop me from enjoying it.
The charm bracelet caught in my hair as I was brushing it and I spent a good five minutes and several curse words getting it undone.
We’re friends, right? And friends give each other gifts. I know how much you love elephants, so...here, he’d said when he’d presented me with the box. I remembered opening it and falling in love with it. Such a simple, sweet gesture. He’d helped me put it on, and I’d worn it every day since. Especially after...
I shook my head and turned on some music. Something nice and harsh and loud to drown out the Sing-Along hour going on upstairs. After scrolling through my recent purchases, I found the newest Skillet album. Perfect.
I could feel the joy seeping through the floor and invading my cave, so I turned the music up so loud that it was hurting my eardrums. I should have just put on my cost-an-arm-and-a-leg-and-a-kidney headphones, but I didn’t. I unpacked the rest of my stuff and deleted the voice mails from my mother and father, demanding that I call them when I’d gotten to Renee’s. I was sure she’d already called them and shared the news of my safe arrival.
My room was outfitted with a small television and DVD player, but I didn’t turn it on. Instead I got out my laptop and scrolled through my pictures from a year ago. I was torturing myself, I knew.
I remembered that girl. The one who always had her hair perfect with cute clips and had lots of cardigans and pumps. The girl who had a boyfriend who was headed for the White House, and had friends who never let her down. It wasn’t picture-perfect, but it had been as close as it could get. And it had been a complete and utter waste of time and energy.
I slammed my laptop shut and yanked the covers back on the bed and got in. My music was still blaring, but it seemed to be quiet upstairs. Finally. They all probably had class or whatever tomorrow. I was surprised Renee hadn’t been up my butt about registering for classes yet. I had all my paperwork to become a UMaine Black Bear, just like her.
I turned over on my side and closed my eyes. Sleep was far
