Selling My Soul to His Royal Nerdiness.

Selling My Soul to His Royal Nerdiness. (29)

Annabel

I had a very pleasant buzz when someone knocked on the door twice. In a drunken panic, I tried to shove the empty wine bottle--and the bottle of booze that I'd stumbled down the stairs and gotten once the wine was drained--under my pillows. Of course I wasn't quick enough for my mom, who looked at me with a mixture of weariness and pity. Or whatever her face was. I honestly couldn't tell--my eyes were kind of blurry and I was putting most of my energy into not puking. 

"Anna." She closed the door behind her and came over to me. I pictured myself: eyes bloodshot and cheeks red from crying. I was still in my wrinkly ass school clothes and sitting in the middle of my messy bed. At some point--I couldn't remember when--I'd decided to put on an old cartoon to cheer me up. It didn't, but it was still playing in the background, too loud for my ears. 

"Can you turn that off?" My voice cracked. 

Mom did it without comment. Unusual for her. Then she came over and sat on my bed. She had a bump--I couldn't remember how far along she was, but now I could at least look at it without feeling the swarm of emotions that I'd   felt these past few months. I liked being drunk, I decided. I'd never been drunk to the point where I was numb before, but this was really working for me. Emotions, sounds, feelings seemed like they were miles and miles away. 

Maybe that was why the next few words slipped out of my mouth so easily.

"I wish it never happened." 

My mom's brow wrinkled. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, the way you might if you were sharing a bed with a bear or something. The mental image made me snort, which I could tell confused her even more. 

"You wish what never happened?" 

"I wish I never snuck out. I wish Noah never came here, or got that stupid makeover, or needed protecting. Hell, sometimes I wish you and dad never had me. I was born because you wanted a new car. You ever think about that?" 

Either I was drunk, or she was crying. Probably both. That hurt me in a really distant way, like the softest punch to the gut ever. 

"I think about that all the time. But Annabel Taylor..." Suddenly, I wasn't a bear anymore. I was her daughter. And she was hugging me. Her voice was muffled, because she didn't do sap, but maybe the hormones allowed her to push out those last few words. "You and Chase, Kolbie, even your father...You all are the best things that ever happened to me. And I think, deep down, you know that Noah is the best thing that ever happened to you too." 

I felt my numbness slowly seeping away, like she was soaking it up in her hug. I realized that I was getting her shirt wet with my own tears. "Why does it have to be so fucking hard though?" 

"Sometimes the hardest things are the ones that are most worth it." 

"God," I laughed wetly, pulling back from her a bit. "You sound like a Christmas card." 

"Oh please. You think giving birth to twins was a freaking cake walk?" She laughed a bit herself and ruffled my hair. "32 hours, and the epidural--" 

"--didn't take completely, I know." 

"You know, carrying twins is genetic." She looked wicked. "So joke all you want! You'll find out sometime soon." 

I waved my hands trying to ward her curse off, but of course I was super drunk and my hands flapped around uselessly. We looked at each other and burst into laughter.