Missing You

Chapter 3: If this Is All I Have

Alex's P.O.V.

***The Next Day***

I woke up this morning with one hell of a hangover to hear the sound of my phone ringing loudly on the other side of the room.

Somebody better be fucking dead if I'm getting a call this early in the god damn morning.

I looked at the caller ID on my phone and saw that it was Rachelle. I'll go ahead and take that last comment back.

I answered the phone and heard her talking almost immediately.

"Oh my god! Baby, I am so freakin sorry about last night! I didn't- well I mean, I had an idea that things would go badly, but I didn't think it would go that badly!" she said getting spastic.

"Baby, it's all good," I said almost regretting picking up the phone.

"Okay but... Wait, what's wrong with your voice?" she said.

"What do you mean," I asked realizing that my voice was scratchy and almost at a whisper.

"You sound really quiet. And rough. Like you're loosing your voice or something."

"Nothin', baby. I'm just kinda worn out, that's all." Lies. I hate lying, but she flips her shit when I drink.

"Oh. Okay," she said, I could hear the skepticism in her voice. I'm pretty sure she knew I was lying, but my headache was too bad to allow me to care.

"Yeah. Hey, I'm gonna get some sleep. I'll call you back in a few."

"Okay. Well, get some sleep, and I guess I'll talk to you later."

"Okay, hun. I love you," I said.

"Love you too," she said.

I hung up the phone.

I walked my ass downstairs to find myself alone in the house. Excellent.

I dragged myself to the medicine cabinet and got some Excedrin.

This shit was great.

I took like four (I think that's too much) then went back upstairs. I found the bottle of sleeping pills I had hidden in my drawer. Yes, they were prescription. No, they were not prescribed to me.

I hadn't taken pills in a long ass time. Or drank. I know it sounds cheesy and lame, but since I've been with Rachelle, I haven't needed anything like that. I was happy without the pills, just being with her.

I didn't want to be negative (I usually try not to be), but I couldn't help thinking that without her, I would be completely fucked.

What I mean is that, in a way, Rachelle saved me.

If it weren't for her, I kinda don't think I'd be sober today. Or alive, at that.

With that in mind, i opened up the little bottle with the white pills, took two, then closed the lid and put them back into their hiding place.

I closed the drawer like my past was inside of it.

I walked back toward my bed and hopped in. I decided to sleep like my life was depending on it.

Rachelle's P.O.V.

***A few hours later***

Why hasn't he called yet?! I know he said he needed to get some sleep, but DAMN. It's been like seven fucking hours. What, did he not sleep at all last night?! Well, maybe he didn't. Maybe I'm just being paranoid. I should just breathe, and find something to do. If I'm busy, I won't think about him.

I walked down the stairs of my house and could almost taste the smoke in the air.

But who in the Hell was here. Mam didn't smoke. She just drank herself sick, that's all.

Thomas, I thought to myself.

Thomas was a man who dropped by occasionally. One of many men who dropped by occasionally. He was one of my mom's *ahem* "boyfriends". Yeah. If that's what you could call them.

He was a smoker. One who didn't even have the fucking decency to walk his ass out of somebody else's house and smoke on the porch. He just smoked inside. And all he left every time was a nasty smell, cigarette butts and a very uncomfortable feeling inside me.

He never touched me. Ever. But he looked. He was always looking. I could feel his eyes burning through my shirt when I was in the kitchen with him and Mama was in the bed, I could feel his stares as I walked away. Always staring right at me. As if he could see through my clothes.

I searched the whole house and outside but there was no sign of Mama and (thankfully) no Thomas either.

I decided to keep myself busy until Alex called by de-Thomasing the entire house. Starting with (eww) Mama's room.

I never really went into Mama's room, so it always looked different every time I went in there.

Today, there were clothes (Mama's and Thomas') on the floor, dishes next to her bed, trash piling over the top of the trash can, makeup and hair products knocked onto the floor by the dresser, cigarette butts everywhere, and (eww) condom wrappers but (thankfully) no used condoms anywhere.

So I started by getting a trash bag, laundry basket, and some cleaning supplies. This was gonna take a while.

I threw all of the clothes on the floor into the basket and threw the sheets, blankets, and pillow cases in there, too.

I put all of the dishes on the rug next to the open door of her bedroom.

I threw all of the trash from the trashcan into the bag, picked up all of the condom wrappers and threw them in, then emptied out all of the ash trays into the bag and put the ash trays and the nag next to the door by the dishes and the laundry that I moved over there.

I picked up everything that had fallen off the dresser, put it back on, and straightened it all up.

I finished by spraying down the entire room with Lysol, then walked out with all the trash, dishes, and laundry and closed her door behind me.

I threw the clothes in the washer, the dishes into the dish washer, and took the trash out.

The rest of the house wasn't really bad (I guess because they didn't really leave her room). I just straightened up the couches and the coffee table and sprayed Lysol in there, too.

I had just sat down on the couch and turned on the TV when my phone started ringing. It was Alex, finally calling after what was now nine hours.

"Hey, baby," I said.

"Hey," he said back.

"What's up?" I asked him.

"Nothing," he said back. "Just thinking."

"Well, what about?" I asked.

"I was just thinking that... Well, it's obvious that we're not going to change your mom's mind. Not now at least. But the time I have left with you...If this is all I have, I want to make it count."

I almost cried then.

"Good point," I said. 'Well, what do you want to do?"

"I wanna take you out," he said. "Like old times."

"That sounds great. When?"

"Tonight," he said. "Right at nine. I'm taking you somewhere special."

"Okay," I said. "Well, it's three now, so I'm gonna clean my room and start getting ready in a little while. I'll see you at nine?"

"Yeah. I'll pick you up then."

"Okay," I said. "Well, see you in a few."

"See you, oh and Rachelle?" he said.

"Yes?"

"I love you. Don't ever forget that," he said.

"I love you too," I said and I hung up the phone.

I did cry then.