Page 64 of Habits

Hard and fast, I’m sliding from one side of the rink in what seems like seconds. I’m pushing my body, muscles tensing, the rage boiling my blood.

Taking a swing, the stick connects with the puck, sending it into net so hard I’m surprised it’s not broken, but not even that slows me down.

Missing the goal by just an inch, I let my body collide with the Plexiglas behind it, my gloved fist punching the hard surface.

“Now that he’s decided to enter politics, the guy thinks we can be one big happy family and everything will be alright again,” I say when I hear the familiarwhooshof skates nearing.

“I’m so sorry, man. That sucks.”

I give the glass in front of me another frustrated hit before I turn around. “Yeah, well… it’s not like talking about it will change anything.”

Derek opens his mouth to say something, but just then, the rest of the team enters the rink.

Practice. That’s what I have to concentrate on, and tune out everything else. Only that way I’ll be able to keep the last bit of sanity I have left.

Jeanette

“What the hell is this supposed to be?” I shove the hanger into my mother’s face.

She blinks a few times before her eyes concentrate on me and the offending object in my hand.

“It’s a dress.”

“That I realized for myself,” I say dully, looking at her taking a sip of her wine. A half-empty bottle sits on the table beside couch, all before five o’clock in the afternoon. I guess it’s all about perspective, right? It has to be five o’clock somewhere. “It’s a sorry excuse for a dress, fit for five-year-old playing dress up. The real question is, why is it hanging in my closet?”

Another sip followed by a wave of her hand. “It’s for the party.”

“I’m not going to any party.”

“Oh, yes you are.” She wiggles her finger in my direction, giggling.

Frowning, I look at her more closely. Her usually composed hair is messy, her eyes glassy and there are frail mascara smudges under her eyes. Not only is she drinking before five in the afternoon, she isdrunk.

Reaching a new low, I see.

“Both you and Max are going. It’s the annual charity event here in Greyford. Red and black Christmas gala. All the donations go toward your father’s new hospital. And since we had to move here because a certain someone …”

“Okay,” I grit through my teeth, not wanting to listen further. “I’m going. But I’m not wearing this.”

I let the hanger fall off my finger, then I turn on the heels of my feet and storm out of the room.

After all these months, she still resents me.

Better.

Moving here was for her and Max’s benefit more than mine. They don’t even know half of the truth behind our moving.

Better.

Let them believe in lies.

After all, they’re prettier than the truth.

* * *

Looking at myself in the mirror, I add another swipe of red lipstick.

I went with neutral, nude eye shadow, but winged black eyeliner and red lips give the whole look a dramatic tone and go well with my red dress.

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