Page 14 of Finding Hope

That’s how dangerous it would be to be discovered by my big brothers while I still wear the scent of stale beer, cigarettes, and Club-188-Guy.

Stopping in front of the mirror and studying my reflection, I groan at the mess staring back at me. I look like a rabid raccoon. I look like a rabid raccoon that mated with a rat in a dirty sewer.

The guy from last night was either legally blind, or he just didn’t care.

Flicking the shower on and peeling my underwear off, I throw them to the floor and step under the hot spray. Lathering up the shampoo and working it through my long hair, I close my eyes and enjoy the heavy pulse of a fancy showerhead blasting boiling water at my aching muscles.

My brother is cheap as hell, but he was onto something with this fancy showerhead. Leaning against the wall and risking my life, I doze and smile and think about the last twenty-four hours of my life.

It’s already almost the middle of Sunday. I have half a day to get my life back together, to eat something mostly made of oil, to clean the spatula’d on makeup off my face, then it’s Monday again and I go back to being a good girl.

Exfoliating from top to toe and washing my hair three times to get the stench out, I step out of the shower and wrap a fluffy towel around mypale body. Removing my nose ring and storing it in my bathroom drawer, I stop and sigh at my drawer of shame.

My brothers don’t go into mine, and God knows, I don’t want to know what’s in theirs.

Combing my hair out and stepping back into the hall, I walk out of my room dressed and presentable a few minutes later and head downstairs.

“Hey, Brat.” My oldest brother stands from the dining table with an empty coffee cup in his hands. Stopping in front of me and dropping a patronizing kiss on my forehead, he’s blind to my eyeroll as he steps away and drops his mug into the dishwasher. “You’re up late. Not feeling well?”

Stepping to the fridge and taking out a carton of orange juice, I chug until my belly turns sloshy. “No. I’m not sick. I got home late.”

“We didn’t see you leave last night,” my middle brother grumbles. Long curly hair hangs in his eyes, and his scruffy chin – though intentional – makes him look like an unemployed bum.

He was at the club last night, but we don’t hang out. He hangs with his friends, and I hang with mine.

At home, we’re all one group.

But in the club, we keep it separate.

“I left with Jess and Laine.”Sort of…

My brother’s friend frowns. “What about Kari?”

I shrug and throw one of my best friends under the bus to draw attention away from me. “She left later.”

Stormy eyed, he has me regretting my cheap move instantly. I don’t knowwhatshe was doing, nor do I know withwhom, but it can’t possibly have been as bad as fucking a strange muscled man in the club without ever exchanging names.

Note to self; text Kari. Stat!

Grabbing his phone and wallet and tucking them into his pockets, my oldest brother stops at the door and steps into boots. “What’re you doing today?”

“Dunno. Probably just laundry and sleep.”

“You nervous for your first day back tomorrow?”

I press the button on the coffee maker and inhale the sweet aroma of caffeine. I’m so tired, I could sleep standing up. “Nah, not nervous. I’m excited.”

Pulling on his second boot and smiling, he strides across the kitchen and pushes me aside playfully. “Alright, well, I’m off to work. I have a mess to clean up. Catch you guys later.”

We nod and wave, but we’re lazy and too slow for him to even see, since none of us got home before three.

Making toast and coffee, I carry my stuff upstairs and dramatically throw myself into bed. Sipping the nectar of life and nibbling on dry toast, I check my phone, only to find it blowing up with a group chat.

Kari:Who was that guy from last night?!?

Me:Where the hell are you? I think I just got you into trouble!

Jess:Which guy?I think I’m developing a thing for ink and muscles.

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