Page 12 of Falling With a Spin

“Okay, that sounds great, sweetie. Don’t worry about paying for your flight ticket. Leslie and I will get it for you.”

Leslie is my dad's wife, my stepmom, and the mom to my three younger siblings. They got married when I was three years old, and had my siblings shortly after that. Aurora is the oldest of my younger siblings, Lakeland is the middle child, and Caden is the youngest. If I could pick a favorite, Lakeland would be the winner. That thirteen-year-old has more sass than anyone I know. But Caden, who is seven years old, is learning from him. I haven’t seen them in at least two and a half years, and I miss them terribly. I haven't had the best relationship with my father since my sister was born. He put all his focus on his new family, started canceling our plans, forgetting my birthday, or not including me on any family trips. After a while, I gave up, realizing that blood doesn’t make you family. I made a promise to myself that I wouldn’t let the lack of a relationship with my father get in between my siblings and me.

“Are you sure, Dad?” I nervously start to bite my nails, which is another one of my many bad habits. I don’t want him to buy my ticket because he thinks he has to. I want him to want to do it. “I have some money saved up that I can use.”

“Em, please let me do this for you. We want you to come out here, so let me pay for it. Okay?”

Sighing and deciding to either fight this some more or just give in. “Okay, Dad. Let me know when you need me to send over the information for the flight.”

“Will do, sweetie. I’ve got to go, but I promise we will talk soon. I love you.”

I don’t hold onto that promise as each one before has been an empty one.

The line goes dead, and I stand in the hallway with my phone still up against my ear. A small weight falls off my shoulders at the realization of my dad wanting to spend time with me. I turn back around with a slight smile on my face.

As I walk in, Taylor is sitting down and scrolling through her phone, her face flushed red. Caleb is running his hands through his hair and flipping through an old magazine with the biggest smile on his face.

“Hey guys, we can start back up the movie. Sorry about that.” I give them both a questioning look when they look up at me. Once I sit back down, we resume the movie, but there’s something that lingers around us that I can’t quite name.

After the movie was over, we started cleaning up the mess from the popcorn fight that we had during the second half of the film and the beer bottles. We ended up drinking the rest of the Mike Hard along with the Corona, and we might be tipsy. When I say we, I really mean just me. Being the lightweight of the group has its perks, except when you have to nurse your drinks in order to have fun and not end up plastered.

“Emma, please just go to bed. Taylor and I will clean this up. You’re only making it worse.” Caleb says, shaking his head and dumping the contents from the dustpan into the garbage.

“But I love cleaning. Please let me stay.” I try to give him my best puppy dog eyes, but in reality, it probably looks like someone is strangling me.

“Come on, my little lightweight, let's get you to bed,” Taylor says, pulling me off the couch. I will be right back to help you with the rest,” she looks over at Caleb. Taylor guides me to my room and the bed. She lays me down, and I instantly close my eyes, letting the darkness once again wrap me in its warmth.

I wake up to the light shining in from the curtains and a pounding headache, and my mouth is drier than Arizona’s desert. Looking over my side table, I see two small blue tablets and a glass of water.

Taylor.

A small smile spreads across my face. I'm fortunate to have her as my best friend. Grabbing my phone from the charger, I check my messages. There are a few from my mom just checking in, one from my dad showing me flights, and one from my sister saying how excited she is to see me soon.

“Nothing is going to ruin today,” I tell myself as I rip the covers off and throw back the pills, chugging the water.

I drag myself out of bed, hoping a shower will help wake me up. Once the hot shower hits my body, a small groan escapes. It soothes my body aches from the last few days of pent-up stress and worry. It’s that type of shower where you just sit on the ground with your knees tucked against you and let the water fall around you while you replay everything you have done in your life. Wondering where you might have gone wrong or what you would have done differently.

The water turns icy cold, and I realize that I’d been in here longer than intended. I quickly finish up, trying not to freeze to death from the water, and wrap myself in my black robe, welcoming the warmth it provides. I keep my hair down, letting it air dry to bring out the natural waves that my dearest mother provided to me, and throw my pajamas back on.

I’m barely out of my room when I hear soft voices flutter from the kitchen. Unsure of what they are saying, I tiptoe carefully to make out what they are saying, but the conversation is halted just as the front door slams shut.

Who was that?

I walk into the kitchen to see Taylor starting up a pot of coffee. “Oh, thank god, I really need some of that right now.” I sit at the breakfast bar that's connected to the kitchen.

“Holy fuck. You scared me.” She turns around, placing her hand on her heart. Her grip on the cup that she holds in her other tightens, turning her knuckles white.

It reminds me of the night with Chad, and my heart starts frantically racing. Sucking in a breath, I attempt to control my emotions.

“Sorry,” a sheepish smile spreads on my face. “Also, who just left?” I question, and Taylor halts what she is doing.

“Um, yeah, it was Garrett. He came over once Caleb left last night. We watched TV, and then we fell asleep. He’s in a rush to leave since he’s running late for class.” She turns around, putting her attention back to the coffee maker.

“Oh, okay, he was kind of weird when I first met him. How long have you guys known each other?” This is the first time she has mentioned him in the year I have known her.

“We met in English class last year. We had a group project together, and ever since then, we’ve been casually seeing each other.” She hands me the coffee, warming my hands.

Looking down at the coffee with pressed lips, wondering how she could keep this from me. We’ve always told each other everything.

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