Page 77 of Without You, Scotch and Sammy 2

And I find myself missing home. I miss my life back here, even if it was living under my parents’ patriarchal roof. Even if my mother ruled with an iron-fist and an ivory hairbrush. Even if I hated them both with every fiber in my body, the years we spent here in this town were the best years of my life. And for that, and that alone, I owe them thanks. I owe the universe thanks, but once that’s done, I owe it a big fat ‘fuck you’ because I’m so unequipped to move on to happiness.

I pick up my cell with shaking hands. I look around Sam’s empty kitchen, then standing, I begin dialing and I wander through the apartment to the spare room to check on Lily.

The phone begins to ring in my ear, so closing out Sam’s voice from the iPod, I shut the bedroom door and walk back to the kitchen.

“Hello?”

A lump forms in my throat at the familiar, but at the same time, unfamiliar, voice. I swipe away an errant tear and move back to my chair in the kitchen. “Hey Snitch. How are you?”

“Soda? Honey, you sound sad.”

I laugh nervously and wipe away another tear. “You haven’t heard my voice in forever, how would you know what sad sounds like?”

“Because you’re my squad, and someone has upset you. Tell me and I’ll come and take care of it.”

“Actually, a mean girl tried to kick me in the head recently.”

“What?” Meg shouts down the line, and I’m imagining her literally sitting in a recliner chair then dramatically jumping up. I laugh louder than before as her actions release something inside me that was wound so tight, I was scared it would pop right through my stomach. “Who’s hurting you, babe?”

I scoff. “Jesus. You’ll never guess. How are you doing, Meg?”

“I’m alright. Now don’t change the subject. Who’s the bitch, and is she still right there in front of you? Pass the phone and lemme take care of you.”

Tears slide down my cheeks and I sniffle into the sleeve of my sweater. “I miss you, Meg.”

“I miss you too, honey.”

A desperate sob breaks past my lips as my jaw wobbles in an attempt to stop it. “I’m sorry we fought. I was wrong.”

“No. I was wrong. You were in a really dark and shitty time, and I didn’t help. I added stress by being mad at you. You were having a lifetime crisis, Sammy, and I wanted you to come back to town. I laid on the guilt trip about Scotch, but really, it was because I wanted you back. The thing with him was just totally an aside.”

“I wish I didn’t leave.”

“I wish you didn’t, either. But only because I’m a selfish bitch and I wanted to keep you to myself. I ditched town barely a month after you did, because without you, I didn’t wanna be there.”

“I love you, Meg. I’m not sure I ever told you that.”

“Aww, Soda.” She’s not teasing or laughing anymore. Her voice has turned soft and genuine. “I love you too. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that. I was so focused on my own life, I didn’t even try to help you with yours.”

“You did try to help, Meg. You told me I was wrong and to come back, and instead of listening, I got mad and stopped taking your calls…” I take a deep breath before continuing. “Did you know they think I had an abortion?”

Meg pauses on the line, her breathing shallow and light, and the only sound around her is of walking feet and closing doors. “Yeah, babe,” she eventually answers. “You did.”

I choke on a sob and shake my head. “I didn’t, Meg. I didn’t even know that’s why everyone was so mad at me.”

“You didn’t?”

“No. I lost my baby, but my dad told Sam that I aborted.”

“Did you talk to your dad about this recently?”

“No.” I scrub my palm over my face to catch the traitorous tears. “I actually talked to Sam.”

“YOU WHAT?”

I giggle and glance around the kitchen. “Yeah. I’m actually sitting in his apartment right now.”

“You went back? When?”

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