Survivor - By Kaye Draper Page 0,44

do whatever the hell I want to do. I don’t need to ask permission for anything.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re brain damaged, Mel. You need Mom and Dad to help you make decisions. You know that. How could you just leave town without telling them? And with some guy?”

I wheeled to the sink and tossed my bowl and spoon in with a thunk, too tired to care about rinsing them out. “Wow. Thanks for the vote of confidence. And he’s not some guy. It’s Peter. You all know him. I’ve been seeing him for months now.”

Chelsea shook her head and gave me a sad, pitying look. “Come on Mel, what’s with this guy anyway?”

I spun around to face her. “You mean why would he waste his time with me?”

She sat back and gave a half shrug, not denying my statement. “Look at him Mel. Jesus, he looks like a model and he sounds like an English professor. Why is he dating someone who can barely hold down a job at the library? What kind of a scam is he running?”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. It was no use screaming at her. I’d been here before. Well, not exactly here. We typically weren’t arguing about my dating beautiful, intelligent men- but the script was similar. I just wished for once she would see me. I mean really see me. Nope. To Chelsea I wasn’t so much a person as an inconvenience.

“You’re just jealous that for once it’s not beautiful, perfect, wonderful princess Chelsea getting all the attention. God forbid I have one good thing in my life.”

She glared at me for a solid minute. I counted the seconds as the little kitty clock above the sink ticked away in the silence.

“You think I want this?” Her voice was cold and flat. “I never asked to carry all their hopes and expectations. I have to live up to everything they wanted you to be.” I started to speak, but she stopped me, slamming her hands flat on the table with a bang that made me jump. “I’ve never had a chance to live my own life. No, I have to live yours instead. Well, I don’t fucking want your life Melody. So don’t you ever talk to me about jealousy.”

She pushed her chair back and stood, getting her things to go. “It’s always poor little Melody, isn’t it?” Her voice was almost a whisper now. “Poor little fucked up Mel. Had her life taken away. But it wasn’t just your life that was fucked up. Take a good look at everyone around you once in a while. We’re all suffering because of you.”

With that, she left, slamming the door behind her. I sighed. At least now she could tell Mom that I was fine; that I was just being my usual selfish self. My eyes watered as I let the bite of her words sink in. I made everyone around me unhappy. How dare she blame me for everything that had happened? How dare she complain about her perfect life when I was stuck. Stuck in this fucking chair, stuck in this little apartment, stuck with a job that was nearly volunteer, never moving forward in anything because I was too damned slow. She could leave. Move on. Get a great job and move to another country if she wanted to. I’d always be right here having people think they needed to make all of my decisions for me. I wish I had been out of town with Peter. Maybe on some romantic getaway. Instead, I had been sitting around in someone’s basement hoping they weren’t going to find my body in the river come morning. Talk about not having the life you want.

It was only a matter of minutes before my doorbell rang again. I pushed myself into motion, in no mood to forgive my arrogant, selfish, spoiled, bitch of a sister. “What?” I jerked the door open, irate.

Haine blinked at me in surprise. “Ah…I’m sorry to bother you,” he said quickly. I bit back my anger and shooed him inside without thinking about the consequences. It would be just my luck for Chelsea to come back at that moment. Then I would have to explain Haine standing on my doorstep. I wasn’t in the fucking mood.

He glanced at me, his bright blue eyes full of surprise, and then followed me inside. I went to get a glass of water in an attempt to calm down. Being