Remember Me

Life before you

Lily's POV:

You only need to make one mistake to find yourself back on the radar. I didn't need to make a mistake, though—everything I did was wrong because that's just my life. Like I was a traffic jam, and everyone was waiting for me to restart my engine.

"Do I really need to go, Dad?" I asked, glaring at him as he parked the car in the lot. He sighed and turned to look at me.

"I only want what's best for you, honey. You know that" he said softly, offering a small smile. But I could tell he wasn't truly concerned about my well-being. He was more worried about maintaining his good name. A daughter of a best-selling author who's also an alcoholic attending AA? Not exactly a catchy headline for the New York Times.

"Remember what I told you?" he asked, and I knew exactly what he meant. "One day at a time" I reminded myself as he extended his hand toward me.

For a moment, I wanted to take it. But before I crashed, he was never really there for me. So, I just plugged my earphones back in and got out of the car. The clean scent of the air hit me as I looked around, my gaze settling on the empty building in front of me.

One day at a time.

My father followed me as I walked inside. The lady at the front desk pointed to a sign-in sheet as we approached. My heart started to race as I shoved my hands into my pockets. My dad picked up the pen and signed my name, all while dressed in his business suit, like this was just another meeting for him. He glanced at me with a look that dripped with guilt.

"I'll be alright" I muttered.

"Can I give you a hug?" he asked, relief evident in his voice.

Most parents just know when their daughter needs a hug. But our relationship was so one-sided, like a contract with terms and conditions. It felt like he needed the hug more than I did.

"Okay" I replied.

He leaned in and hugged me, smiling like he was handling something fragile. It had been so long since we'd hugged. The last time I remember was when I was thirteen. Now, at seventeen, hugging him felt like embracing a stranger.

He let go and beamed at me like I was a delicate statue. I turned toward the main hall's closed door and sighed as I approached it, pushing it open.

As I entered, the sound of conversation filled the room. I pulled my hoodie over my head as I walked toward the circle of chairs in the center. There were about nine people. At least that was manageable.

I dropped into an empty chair, staring at the floor as the voices around me blurred into echoes. I checked my phone, seeing notifications from my friends, all trying to figure out why I missed the latest party.

Homesick, I'd texted.

They just replied with "Get well soon" like they always did. We were all friends because of our parents' closeness and wealth.

Suddenly, a tap on my shoulder snapped me back. I looked up, pulling out my earphones, and met the gaze of the girl sitting next to me.

"Yeah?" I asked.

Her brown eyes caught my attention. I couldn't look away. Her face had this strength, a sort of divine beauty that was hard to ignore.

"Geris is asking a question" she whispered, nodding toward the guy leading the group. I turned to see him staring at me, and everyone else's eyes were on me too. I hated feeling like an outsider, but that's exactly how I felt.

Panic started to creep in, and I stood up. "Can I be excused?" I asked, my voice trembling slightly. The man nodded, almost like he expected this reaction. I bolted out of the gym, searching for the nearest restroom.

I burst into the women's restroom and rushed to the sink, turning on the cold water and splashing my face. The icy pressure grounded me, bringing warmth back to my body. As I slipped my hands back into my pockets, I felt the forgotten flask.

I was trapped, suffocating under the weight of my own temptations. I hated how much I wanted it, but I couldn't help it.

I looked at myself in the mirror as I opened the flask, nearly shocked by how tired and worn-out I appeared. My eyes drifted back to the bottle, pulling it closer to my nose to take in its scent.

"You have two options" a familiar voice said, breaking the silence. I quickly sealed the flask and shoved it back into my pocket, turning to see the girl from the meeting standing behind me.

"Option 1: You can drink that and start back at step one. Or, Option 2: You give AA a real shot and try to regain some control over your life"

Was she seriously giving me an ultimatum? People who gave me options pissed me off. Mostly because I rarely got them. "What gives you the right to offer me options? Who the hell even are you?" Anger and shame mixed like lava in my veins.

She didn't flinch, like she was used to hearing things like this. "No one" she replied, her lips barely parting, eyeliner glinting under the harsh restroom light. She turned and closed the door behind her.

I shouldn't have said that. I always say things I don't mean when I'm angry. Regret gnawed at me, and I immediately chased after her. "Hey, I'm sorry about what I said earlier. This is all just... new to me"

"Not used to facing your actions?" she asked, as if I owed her an answer.

"You don't know anything about me, so don't act like you do" I snapped.

"You're right. I don't know you. But I know of you. And I know you didn't just come here to advertise it on Instagram" she retorted.

Her bluntness should have offended me, but instead, I found her intriguing. She didn't care about playing nice, unlike most people who felt compelled to respect me and kiss my shoes.

"I am..sorry, but I doubt you're interested in hearing my apologies" I said, trying to sound genuine.

"You're right. I don't care for apologies, especially not from people like you" she replied, her gaze unwavering.

People like me? The phrase hit a nerve, suggesting she'd already categorized me based on one lousy conversation. "What exactly do you mean by 'people like me?'"

"You seem like the type who thinks you can do whatever you want because you have the privilege to," she said matter-of-factly.

"Why do you think that?" I stepped closer, trying to meet her eyes as they started to flicker with uncertainty.

"You like being in control. You want everything on your terms. That's how you privileged people work" she continued, nearly making me laugh. I'd never had control over anything in my life. Right now, I was on someone else's terms.

"I prefer to have as much control as I can, which is usually very little" I admitted. It felt good to say that, even if it meant nothing to her.

"You think trying to be in charge is charming, don't you?" she asked, her tone laced with sarcasm.

"I wasn't trying to be charming, just honest. Maybe it's just in my nature. Do you find it charming?" I asked, half-smiling.

She laughed and turned to open the door, but before she could, I darted forward and held it open for her. She looked at me, confused.

"I don't need your help"  she said.

"Just trying to be charming" I replied with a grin.

She scoffed, walking back into the meeting, and I followed. The conversation was dull, but I couldn't stop watching her. She was so focused, listening intently to everyone else's stories. When she caught me staring, she rolled her eyes.

I was intrigued by her. I wanted to know how someone so sure of herself could end up in a place like this.

Now, I wish I'd never gone back in.