sit up and rub my forehead. I’m still not on my game as I go to the bathroom looking for Advil. I need to get some more birth control pills, but if I’m leaving, what’s the point?
Reaching for my pack, I look at the back, trying to read the label. Bella and I found this tiny place two years ago selling bags of them cheap. We both got a year’s supply for twenty bucks I think. That was in Hollywood. I’m in Burbank with no car. The pills have nothing but the label and the expiration date.
I stare at it. Wait, that can’t be right. Flipping on the light, I sit on the edge of the sink so I can see the expiration date better.
2013
Dread hits my empty stomach. Maybe I’m reading it wrong. Maybe the real date’s worn off over time. I need to think, maybe breathe, because I’m panicking. This can’t be right, and even if they are years old, does that matter?
It’s fine. I’m being dramatic. Pills that expire still work. It’s only a suggested date.
I rush to the bed again and grab my phone, asking Siri. Her voice comes back with “Here is what I’ve found on the web.”
I glance through a bunch of articles that say expired pills should be thrown away, but most are fine years later.
“Oh, thank God.” Clutching my phone, I flop back on the pillows and try not to think. As soon as I try to clear my mind, though, it starts racing. There’s no reason for this panic. I can’t be pregnant—I don’t even ovulate. The doctor told me that.
At sixteen. He told me that at sixteen.
“Holy fuck.” I sit up again. “No.” I shake my head. He’ll think I’m trying to trap him. My head pounds and my face is flushed. God, everything on me feels hot. I wonder if I have a fever. That could be why I’m acting like this… because there’s no way.
“Oh God,” I groan. Think, I need to think.
There’s a tap on the door, and I scream.
“Antoinette? Are you okay?” I leap out of bed, grabbing my Dicks shirt because no matter what happens, this is mine. When I open the door, Eve stands there arguing with her son, clutching his hand so that he doesn’t bolt inside.
“I need to talk to Antoinette. If you’re good, I’ll let you play with Axel’s guitars.”I stare in horror as James Dean looks around me then smiles.
“Oh Eve, is that allowed? Axel never takes them dow—” James Dean runs past me and she follows.
“It’s only for a few minutes. Dewey is coming back from running some errands, and Amy’s watching Nicole.”
A loud crash makes me jump and I hear the strumming of a guitar. “Be careful, James,” she yells. “Don’t worry. He knows what to do. Axel gives him lessons.”
“Give me a second. I’m going to change.”
“Perfect. I’ll plug him in and he’ll be busy for hours.” I nod at her back as she marches into the other room. James Dean is not bad for a kid.
“Not that one, Mommy, that one.” His sweet voice makes me smile. And then I want to cry because Axel gives James Dean lessons. I pull on some dance pants but decide to leave the Dicks shirt on. Making my way back to the other room, I stop and watch Eve listen to her son play, his cute hands strumming away.
“He’s amazing.” I sit next to her. She smells like coconut and the beach. Her long tan legs are stretched out and I look over at her.
“I’m sorry about your brother.”
She turns and smiles. “Benny’s been dead to me for years. I know everyone was so concerned about how I would respond, but when he left my dad and me to pay his debt…” She looks at her son then back to me. “I’m fine. That’s why I’m here. I wanted to apologize to you. I hope he didn’t hurt you.”
“It all happened so fast. Charlie was amazing.” I get up to grab a bottled water. “Do you want anything?” I yell over James, who’s strumming the same thing over and over again, but he seems to be into it.
“Sure.” I grab two bottles out of the refrigerator and a banana and sit back down on the floor with them.
“You think he’ll be a rocker or a Disciple?”
She laughs as his blond head bops to the music. He’s terrible, but he’s four, so there’s that.
“A Disciple for sure.”
I bite my lip