Page 23 of Deeper

“I promise.” I cuddle in closer to her bright light.

“I love you almost as much as tacos.” Her lips kiss my forehead.

“I love you almost as much as ice cream.” Sometimes, that declaration is automatic, but this morning, it couldn’t hold more meaning.

The alarm next to her bed goes off, and we both get out of her bed quietly. I dress in her clothes after getting ready with her things in her bathroom, too afraid to go back to my own home. Aria attempts to hide the dark circles under my eyes with her makeup, but it doesn’t really work.

I go about another day of exams at school, even more exhausted than I was yesterday. I blow off one of my tests and hide in the girls’ locker room to get some sleep. It isn’t the first test I’ve blown off since Dad died, and I’m sure it won’t be the last.

I am now the girl from the broken home. Over the last few years, I’ve grown used to the whispered truths about my family. People pretend what is happening isn’t, but lately, my family baggage has been out there for everyone to see. Mom makes sure we can’t keep our dirty secrets hidden. She drinks, and the neighbors politely clink glasses with her. She causes a public spectacle, and with pity-filled eyes, people blame grief.

They rationalize.

They excuse.

She has a lot going on. She’s dealing with her loss the only way she can manage. She just needs time and understanding.

What about me? What about the daughter she is supposed to protect? What about my grief? Does anyone care?

I’ve quickly learned that not rocking society’s cradle is much more important than a young girl in serious trouble. I have turned into the girl people like to ignore because it’s rude to give power to what my reality has become—dark and hopeless, a sordid tale the neighbors pretend doesn’t exist. I’ve learned that friendly people are everywhere to be found when things are good but flutter like smoke in the wind when everything goes wrong. No one wants to be involved. No one wants to overstep boundaries. No one sees, but everyone gossips.

Everyone, except for Aria.

She is there for everything—the good, bad, and ugly.

But last night chipped away little pieces of my soul, and eventually, there might be nothing left.

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