Dedicating this chapter to the wonderful cheese_lova, for being such an awesome friend and always a faithful reader!
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I stood there nervously, my phone in my hand with my thumb hovering over the contact.
Justin Harper.
We haven’t spoken to each other in almost five months, since our mom’s funeral. Thanksgiving was three days away and I heard nothing about whether or not I was welcome.
I sighed and bit down the urge to get sick, and called him. I paced around in my small room, trying to rid the nervous anxiety that was building with each ring.
“Hello?”
I almost dropped my phone in surprise when I heard his low voice come from the other end.
“Hello?” he repeated with annoyance laced in his voice.
“Hey, Justin-it’s me,” I sat on the floor, not trusting my shaking legs.
“Ana?”
“Yeah,” I mumbled.
“Oh my god, holy- I mean, how are you?”
I almost cracked a grin at his tendency to curse. We are truly related in all aspects. “I’m fine, how are you?”
“Fine, fine. Why you calling?” I felt my breath get caught in my chest. Does he really not know?
“Well, it’s almost- like, I know what dad said, but maybe-“
“Ana, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“What?” I couldn’t help the disappointment seep through my voice.
“Look, I want you to come. Everyone misses you. Hell, even I miss you,” I didn’t smile at his attempt to tease me. “But this being the first Thanksgiving since mom…I just- I don’t think Dad is ready for that.”
“Are you fucking serious?” I whispered.
“I’m sorry, Anabel-“
“Don’t,” I hissed. “You don’t get to call me that,” I ran my hand down my face in attempt to collect myself. “It’s not my fault,” I whimpered. “It was an accident, Justin. I didn’t mea-“
“I know. I’m sorry. Just not this year, sis. Not this year.”
“Well. Be sure to pass my thanks for such an accepting family. Maybe I’ll see you in five years from now, or how about my graduation? Or would that still be too soon?” I hissed.
“I’m sorry.”
I didn’t respond, I just ended the call and stood up.
“MELISSA!” I screamed.
“What?! What is it? Is there a fucking spider?!” I saw her wide eyes searching the floor as she ran to my room.
“Let’s get drunk.”
“What?”
“I’m getting shitfaced tonight, you with me?”
***
Two hours later, it’s only four in the afternoon and I’m currently hugging the couch cushion (that somehow popped off the couch?) and telling it how sorry I am for always sitting on it.
“I’m saawwrry,” I slurred.
“Ana, this was a bad idea,” I saw Mel sitting at our shitty excuse of a dinner table while watching me.
YOU ARE READING
Falling to Flying
General FictionHer name is Anabelle and she didn't mean to cause her mother's death. With the disowning of her father and burden of her past, Ana struggles to pick herself back up. Her roommate, Melissa, forces Ana to come with her to the grocery store in attempt...
