Refuge

Chapter 27: You're Not Human If You Don't Have a Facebook

Kill me. I deserve it. SIX FREAKING MONTHS. God, I need to reprioritze. Anyways, hope this might make up a little bit. 

-A

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Chapter 27: You're Not Human If You Don't Have a Facebook 

 Basically, I had the best Thanksgiving in history. 

The details? They’re too sweet to completely give up. I have to save some for myself, to keep close to me when something goes wrong or this all falls on top of me, like all good things do.

But, I can at least give you some details, some memories that I will cherish for the rest of my life. Everyone taking their turn as we went around the table, each of us saying something we were thankful for, and everyone at least mentioning me, some more than others. Hayden refusing to let me fix my own plate, insisting that he was an expert with Thanksgiving food and that it was up to him to make sure I tried everything. Hallie laughing so hard at Dom that she almost snorted out her drink. Mr. and Mrs. Watson sharing looks across the table. Hayden sneaking a hand under the table cloth and gripping mine. 

It was amazing. 

It’s after dinner now, and everyone’s gone their separate ways. Hallie and Dom left after clearing dishes and I firmly suspect that they are up on the roof or the beach somewhere, hopefully admitting their feelings for each other. Luke and Britt crashed on the living room couch and Mr. and Mrs. Watson have retired for the night. As for me, I’m by myself in my room, on the phone with my mom. 

You can only imagine how that’s going. 

“...and anyways, your grades are much better there in Wynn than what they were back in Denver, honey,” my mom says, the sink from her hotel room audible in the background. 

“Thanks mom,” I murmur, rolling my eyes. My grades were bad in Denver because of she knows what. Obviously they would be better here. “Where are you and dad, again?”

“Helsinki, dear. Honestly, you need to pay better attention, Alexandra,” my mom says, tsking. “You would think you’d want to know where your own parents are.”

I grit my teeth. “I do, mom. That’s why I asked.” 

“Okay, sweetie,” my mom responds, her voice infuriatingly condescending. 

“So, when are you guys coming back exactly?” I ask, dreading the answer will be sooner than later. 

“Oh, we don’t have a definite date set yet, Alexandra.” I can almost see my mom examining her designer nails in disdain, wondering why her daughter’s were always covered in chipped paint and were chewed into nubs. “We’ll know closer to the end of the summer if we’re going to be home in time to see you off to college.”

“It’s no rush to come home, mom,” I say quickly, seeing an opportunity. “I’m doing really well right now and I think it’s because there’s nothing here to remind me of home, you know? The Watsons are great and are treating me really well, practically like family, and we’ve had Thanksgiving together, which was amazing, and they take me to church and-”

“Honey, could you please stop referring to the Watsons as your family,” my mother says in a bored voice as she cuts me off. “Honestly, you’d think that they treat you better than your own flesh and blood.”

“That’s not what I meant, mom.” That’s definitely what I meant, but I’m sure as hell not telling her that.  

“Of course not, sweetie.” My mom’s attitude changes at the tip of a hat. “Anyways, what would you like us to bring you back this time honey? I know it’s a shame that you’re always too busy to travel with us, but-”