Advice from a Sunflower Page 8

  I shoot Ally a warning look and leave them alone to play with their dolls again, their argument already long forgotten. I have the fleeting thought that I wish things were that simple with Marnie and me.

  ***

  It doesn’t take long before I find myself at the center of town, parked in a random spot just outside of what was formally Joe’s Pizza House. The windows are boarded up now and there’s graffiti littering the historic red brick. Another abandoned, dead spot in a decaying town.

  My phone vibrates in the cupholder of the rental car, and I don’t even have to look to know it’s my agent, Natalie, calling for the fifth time in a row. She had a meeting with the publisher to pitch my new idea today and is probably calling to share the good news.

  I shove the phone into my bag and step out of the car, realizing how far out of place it looks on this dying little street. I’m catcalled from somewhere off to the side of the pharmacy that I’m headed into, and it’s almost appalling how quickly I fall into old habits and completely block it out, tucking my chin down and speed walking into the entrance before they realize I heard them.

  Marnie has got to get her girls out of this place.

  “Mouse?” A familiar, deep voice comes from behind, disbelief soaking its tone.

  I spin around and nearly bump right into Eli’s chest before backing away with my hands up in surrender. His dark eyes have me immediately recoiling.

  “Eli,” I sigh, my eyes roaming his body shamelessly. Time has been surprisingly kind to him.

  I hate him for it.

  “You're back,” he states, not really asking. His eyes stoically remain on my face, unlike mine which are still shamelessly taking in his new appearance. My cheeks heat with offense, which then quickly turns into embarrassment. What was I expecting?

  Wake up, Lyla.

  “Denise is getting married,” I state crassly, folding my arms over my chest.

  “I know.”

  Awkward silence falls between us as the doors slide open and closed, welcoming new guests and bidding others goodbye. I refuse to be the one to break it.

  Look at me.

  See me, I will mentally, screaming the words in my head the same way I had when I was a stupid, lovestruck teenager.

  Turns out, the world isn’t any less cruel than The Hollow, and I’m still waiting for the happily ever after that I write about in all of my books. Maybe then, I can get over the puppy love I’ve always had for my childhood friend.

  I stop at that thought, internally kicking myself for completely forgetting the man back home that I just broke up with right before I hightailed it out of here for Denise and Marnie. I hadn’t even bothered to call him since, although I wouldn’t let myself feel guilty for that part. Not calling is his specialty. Not acknowledging me outside of when it's convenient for him is also his specialty.

  Eli clears his throat, his black brows so low, they almost cover his eyes. It’s odd. He looks like the same boy who dominated my every thought through my entire adolescence and stole my innocence, but there’s more now. A darkness that wasn’t there before.

  “So, how are Marnie and the girls doing?”

  “I’m not sure, she hasn’t talked to me much." Once again, I'm reminded why I had to leave her house in the first place, and I'm instantly irritated again. "I have to go, Eli…”

  I adjust the strap of my designer bag on my shoulder to tuck it further under my arm just as Crank, an old panhandler walks through the door. He’s never stolen from me in the past, but I feel more like an outsider in this town than anything else, and I’m not sure he’d even remember who I am.

  “Wait,” Eli calls, reaching out to grab my arm before he thinks better of it and recoils, his hand dangling in the air awkwardly. He looks like he's fighting some internal battle.

  “What?”

  I watch the thought pass across his face before he lets it go, shaking it away before he lands on, “tell Marnie I’ll be over soon,” and walks away.

  ***

  I park my car against the curb of my childhood home and think back to the moment that led me here. To the call that brought me back to a place I had sworn I’d never return to. I wonder if it was even worth the trouble. I want to blame Marnie for all of it, but I know that would only be in vain. She hadn’t even technically asked me to come, but I knew she wanted me to. And if there was one person I can’t say no to, it’s her.

  “Denise is getting married next week. She didn't think you'd come but I thought you should know anyway,” Marnie had somberly explained through the phone.

  “Oh.” I didn’t know what to say. How to feel.

  My heart immediately disconnected from the situation, numbing itself from any kind of feelings. It was a survival mechanism I learned long ago to protect myself from the constant hurt that came with being Denise's daughter. Then, Marnie explained that she and Josh were done, and he left her for a job and a girl three hours away. I jumped right into comfort mode for Marnie, quickly wracking my brain for any way I could help her through the situation. But the numbness went too deep this time, and I could barely muster a word about it before she was speaking again.

  I booked my flight that night and left two days later, dropping everything in my life to be there for my sister when she needed me.

  ***

  It’s dark now, a lonely fog lingering in the air just above my head. The open windows cast a mellow light onto the grass, offering a glimpse right into Marnie’s TV room and the girls on the couch. So far, she’s nowhere to be seen and I can’t decide if that’s a good sign or not.

  When I open the front door, I see her sitting on the stairs directly across from me, her head stuck between her knees. She lifts it when she hears the door close behind me, and a sad smile spreads across her chapped lips.

  “I didn’t think you’d come back.”

  “I shouldn’t have.”

  “I’m sorry, Mouse. I didn’t mean what I said. I know you’re just looking out for us.”

  She stands just when the girls come running toward me, their feet pitter-pattering against the hardwood floors.

  “You’re back!”

  “Are we getting ice cream now?”

  I send Marnie a forgiving smile, letting her know it was all forgotten.

  “You’ll have to ask your mom.”

  Chapter 13

  Eli

  Present

  She’s come back after all this time away, somehow even more stunning than before. As if that were possible. As if there was any room for her to become any more perfect than she had been when she left this cesspool.

  But that's Mouse. Always pushing boundaries. Always evolving beyond the rest of us and so, so far out of my reach.

  She's back and I have a feeling this might be the one and only exception she’ll make to her vow to stay away from this hellhole. Marnie and Denise have always been her one exception.

  “Stick your tongue back into your mouth, Eli. You look like a dog,” Marnie scolds from beside me, her arms crossed against her chest.

  “You didn’t tell me she’d be here,” I point out accusingly, my brows furrowed deep.

  “I didn’t know,” she lies.

  I always know when Marnie’s lying, especially when it comes to Mouse. The past seven years have been an uphill battle getting any information about her from Marnie. Eventually, I just gave up.

  She was protective of her sister and the relationship they shared, especially after the night I almost ruined it all for them. Ever since I came back home to help Ma out, Marnie’s kept our friendship on a completely different planet than the one she has with Mouse. I’ve been forced to pick up any scraps about her that I could find on my own; a task that I’ve found increasingly easier as she became more successful in her writing career.

  Five bestselling novels in the past three years. Book signings and tours all over the globe. Her Facebook profile isn’t even managed by her anymore. She’s hired someone else to do it for her. Rich people do that, I g
uess.

  That’s right, while life has been shitting all over those who have been wilting here in The Hollow, my little sunflower of a best friend bloomed beautiful and bright on a stage for the whole world to see.

  And I couldn’t fucking stand her for it.

  The last night we shared together took something out of me that I could never really quite find a replacement for. Sure, I took her innocence, and it was the sweetest, most decadent thing I’ve ever tasted. But she carved me up from the inside out, leaving nothing but an empty shell behind.

  My own personal Leatherface.

  The day she left for Cornell without so much of a, “see ya later,” was the day my life took a turn downhill, and it hasn’t stopped since.

  “She has a boyfriend, you know.”

  Marnie elbows my side as we both watch her headlights turn onto the next side street, the shiny new rental car disappearing from sight.

  Unfortunately, I do know. Although, in my defense, it's only because Ally pointed him out in a magazine one time while we were grabbing ice cream. She'd excitedly bragged that her aunt was dating the ‘Most Handsome Man in the Universe’ and promised her that she’d get to meet him one day.

  His name is Brad Highwaters. B-list actor with a reputation for being a world-class asshat everywhere he went. Mouse seems so far out of his league; she might as well be in a completely different solar system from him.

  “So?” I ask innocently, grabbing my keys from my hip and flipping them around my finger as I make the decision to follow her.

  I flash Marnie a sarcastic smile, which she returns with a shake of her head and a knowing smirk.

  Marnie is a stunning creature, even after she’s managed to pop out two kids and become run down with the weight that responsibility held. She deserves the world, but settled for a microscopic corner of it, and I don’t think she’ll ever forgive herself for that. She’s become one of my closest friends since I had to come back home to take care of Ma. With Marnie, it’s mostly because she's one of the only people who understands the weight a dysfunctional parent can put on you. She’s the one who called me back in the first place.

  She'd found her wandering around the streets downtown without shoes on, mumbling something about making a homecoming dinner for when my dad arrived home. He’d been dead for almost three months by then, so when Marnie could finally make out what she was saying, she ushered her home before any of the countless creeps and meddling housewives this cesspool of a town has tried to take advantage of her.

  I packed up my small studio apartment and was back home within a week. I hate The Hollow. Never understood why my parents picked this spot on the map to settle down in. Ma had always claimed she had family and roots here, but I’ve never met them. I think she was just done packing houses up every two years to follow my dad around the country, especially when he couldn’t have cared less if we were around or not, so she picked a random, lowkey town.

  Either way, I begged them to move away after I graduated college. Anywhere. I knew that going someplace on my own wasn’t a viable option. They needed me, and because of that, I was tethered to the tiny speck of land they insisted on staying within.

  Dad waited to retire until he was so physically weak, his doctor revoked his driver’s license and practically had him on permanent bed rest. Ma was losing more of her memory each day, often getting simple things like dates and names confused. Each phone call home from college solidified the fact that sooner rather than later, they would be calling me back to that place to care for them. It was no use packing up and moving across the country—hell, across the world—the way I always wanted to, when I’d inevitably end up back here before I was ready to admit. That, and I had my own family to care for.

  Mouse wasn’t the only one itching to put The Hollow in her rearview mirror, she was just the only one to successfully do it. Seven years later, and I’m still stuck in the same spot, watching the world pass by me as I watch from the sidelines and lose the people who matter most.

  Chapter 14

  Lyla

  It’s unusually bright in my bedroom, and I’m cowering behind my bed, hiding from whatever it is that’s attempting to bust through my childhood bedroom door. I watch as it rattles on its hinges, the soft metal and dark wood trying unsuccessfully to keep the threat out.

  Eventually, the door bursts open, although I never get a good look at whatever it is that’s coming after me. I try to scream, but only soft whispers and whines make their way out of my lungs. As the threat closes in, I attempt to run away only to find that none of my limbs work. I’m stranded in the middle of the floor, unable to move or call for help.

  Just as a hand reaches out to grab me, I’m awoken, cold sweat beading on my forehead and pooling at my neck. I look around to find it’s still dark outside, the air pregnant with a sleepy silence. Just then, I hear a loud noise coming from somewhere downstairs. Marnie took the girls room so that I could sleep in hers. I almost wish she would have stayed so I didn’t have to be alone in this nightmare of a house once again.

  It had been nearly impossible to fall asleep with the unsettling fear that was gnawing away at my mind all night.

  Fear of the noises that I’d long since forgotten about coming from the old house.

  Fear that I’ll end up stuck here again, trapped against my will with no voice and no freedom.

  Fear that Marnie and the girls will never make it out.

  After a couple of hours of my mind running wild, I’d exhausted myself enough to pass out. That couldn’t have been more than three hours ago. What the hell could be making that horrible noise now?

  I can hear Marnie mumbling something to the girls through the wall, and then her bedroom door opens just as I stand from my bed. We lock eyes and the alarm I find in hers unsettles me even more.

  “I thought it was you,” she says, cautiously peeking down the steps. From my spot in the doorway, I can see that one of the lights downstairs has been turned on.

  We both jump at another loud bang that makes its way up the stairs. Marnie reaches for my hand and I reluctantly grasp hers, taking each step down at the same time as she does. We round the corner and head toward the kitchen, where a sickly blonde stands against the counter with her back toward us.

  “Denise?”

  My mother turns to face us with a bowl of pancake batter in her arms and Marnie sighs beside me, placing both of her hands on her hips in annoyance.

  This is a scene she’s encountered before.

  “What is she doing here?” Mommy Dearest croaks, her upper lip lifting in disgust as her eyes menacingly roam my body from head to toe.

  “She came for your wedding and to help me and the girls. What are you doing here so late, Denise?”

  Marnie’s voice is even and patient, completely contradicting the uneasiness that seeing my own mother has unleashed onto my nerves.

  “It’s Saturday morning, Marnie. I always make the girls breakfast on Saturdays.” She pours a glob of pancake batter onto the heated skillet and then turns toward me. “We don’t need you here, Mouse,” she spits in my direction, looking through me, the way she always had before.

  “Come on. Don’t be that way. You two haven’t seen each other in seven years. You're getting married! It's supposed to be a happy time. We’ve talked about this, Denise. Why don’t I make a pot of coffee and we can all catch up? Mouse can finally tell you about the amazing things she’s done.”

  Marnie sends me an apologetic smile and then walks over to the sink to start filling the coffee pot with water, carefully keeping Denise in her peripherals. Our mother lets out a sardonic laugh, flipping the pancake with her eyes locked on me. “We don’t care what you’ve been doing, little girl. As long as you do it somewhere away from here. I didn't invite you for a reason.”

  I’m a rubber band being pulled beyond its limits as Denise playfully strums me for her own amusement. She knows how much it hurts me when she talks like this. She’s used her words as weapons agains
t me my entire life, carefully stringing together the most menacing insults she can fathom to nail me as deeply as possible. I thought putting distance and time between us would change things. It’s only made them worse.

  Somehow, Marnie has formed calluses against the years of abuse, shielding her from any more hurt or resentment that might have come from it. Or maybe physical abuse was easier to get over, I’m not sure. All I know is, the moment I saw her tonight, I was an eighteen-year-old again, desperate for my mother’s affection.

  Even though I know it will never come.

  “That’s enough! This is my house now, and you don’t have the right to talk to her like that anymore. If you’re going to keep being nasty, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

  “I want to hear it from her,” my mother’s voice rumbles, a grittiness added to it from years of abuse to her body and bitterness toward others. Negativity has a way of wearing you down until there’s nothing left, leaving you even more sour and resentful than ever before. “Go on, Mouse. Tell me to get out of this house and leave you alone.”

  “Stop it,” Marnie warns again.

  The coffee pot begins to gurgle in the background, brewing a fresh pot. Under normal circumstances the noise would soothe me, but I’m too wound up. My fists ball at my sides as I consider finally speaking to my mother for the first time in years. The last thing I told her was that I loved her, and it was probably the most irritating and insulting thing I’ve ever served to her. I can’t do anything right for her.

  When I leave, she’s angry.

  When I come back, she’s downright nasty.

  “I know you want to say something. Isn’t that what all those books were about? To vent about what a horrible little life you had here in a small town? How mean your mommy was to you when she was just trying to instill good morals into you?” Denise goads, casually pouring more batter onto the skillet, as if it meant nothing for her to deliver such cold words.