this way. I don’t want to get into a fight with Andreas over Charlie. We’ve been friends for years, whereas Charlie is just an annoying brat I have to put up with.
Do you, Troy? Really?
I’ve given her a chance, and if the last month has proven anything, it’s that we’re too different to get along. Grandma can’t say I didn’t try. However, I can’t live with a person who doesn’t trust me. Who’s to say Charlie isn’t plotting another bit of revenge right now? Fuck that. I don’t want to be looking over my shoulder in my own house.
I make the decision to ask Charlie to move out, but I don’t return home until hours later. Instead, I head to the private beach club where Dad has a membership for all of us and chill by the beach. I can’t handle pools, but the sea has always captivated me. I love surfing, and if it weren’t for football, I might have dedicated more time to it. The idea of traveling the world, chasing the perfect wave, sounds epic.
But as much as the ocean usually calms me, it isn’t having the desired effect today. My chest feels unbearably heavy. I thought that after I made up my mind, I’d feel better. Not the case.
There’s no sense in postponing what I have to do. It’s time to go home.
CHARLIE
I didn’t see Troy at the party again. Not that I was looking. Yeah, right.
We didn’t stay long. No surprise there, considering Mom’s mood. On the way back to my parents’, I wonder why Mom wanted Ben and me to come. To put on a show? I just know this is the first and last time I agree to a company family event. I’m in college, for crying out loud. There should be a rule that exempts me from bore-fest gatherings like those.
All I know is I can’t wait to go back home and try to get rid of the blue dye. I also want to speak with Troy. Jane’s comment that her brother isn’t mean made me second-guess myself. If I intend to keep sharing a roof with him, I should give him the benefit of the doubt at least. The other times he retaliated, he didn’t hide. Why would he lie about this one?
I’m surprised that when we arrive, my dad’s car is in the garage. Maybe he didn’t really have to work; he simply didn’t feel like going to the party. I can tell by Mom’s face that she’s gearing up for another major fight. I have to get Ben out of the house. Maybe he can stay over. But I erase that idea right away. I don’t want Ben around when I have my talk with Troy, and I certainly don’t want to avoid that conversation. Crap.
Mom is pulling into the driveway when Dad bursts through the garage door, holding Bailey in his arms. Something is wrong.
Mom presses on the brakes, and a second later, I’m out of the car.
“Dad! What happened?”
“Bailey is unresponsive. We need to get her to the vet immediately.”
Mom lowers her window and shouts, “Get in here!”
Dad slides into the back seat, and I get back in the front. I’m not even done putting my seat belt on when Mom puts the car in Reverse and burns rubber. All our problems become irrelevant. Bailey is our girl; we can’t let her die.
There’s a huge lump in my throat, and my eyes are beginning to burn. I turn in my seat to look at her.
“What happened?” I ask through a choke.
“I don’t know. I came home and found her passed out in the kitchen next to a vomit puddle.”
“She hasn’t been herself since yesterday. We should have taken her to the vet, damn it!” Mom hits the steering wheel hard, right before she takes a sharp curve without slowing down.
I don’t comment that they probably would have done that if they hadn’t been busy fighting. But it’s a petty remark and it would help no one. I can guess they must have come to the same conclusion because neither of them speaks again.
We arrive at the vet in five minutes—a drive that usually takes ten. Dad jumps out of the car and takes off to the entrance with me close on his heels. The vet’s assistant immediately tells Dad to bring Bailey to the examination room but forbids the rest of us from going after him. Dejected, I sit in the waiting room with Ben while Mom