Trouble Times Two

Chapter Forty-Seven

Monday

I don't even talk to Jess and go straight to my room and into my balcony where I smoke another cigarette and I stay there for hours.

Donovan comes out a couple of hours later, crying, but he's stone cold sober.

"What's wrong?" I ask and he sits down.

"My parents are giving me an ultimatum. I either sober up in time for the end of the new semester or I get out of their house."

"Well you're sick. They don't know to do anymore Donovan, they're at an impasse. Your social worker back there probably told your one here how you behaved and they have to relay that to your parents. Your parents are probably scared and they likely didn't want to make this decision but they sort of have to at a point. You're going to drink yourself to death if you continue like this any longer." I turn back to in front of me and stare out into the distance.

"I've been trying really hard but I'm scared I'll just start drinking again because of my friends." I did notice that but any amount of alcohol past one unit made him belligerent.

"Let's be clear. People like that are not your friends, they're not here to see you succeed, they're here purely to see you fail. People like Lola and Luke and Tom are your friends, not some drugged up Skins wannabes who take drugs and drink purely because they think it's cool. Talking to your friends again will make your life considerably easier but also you need to address whatever happened to you to make life easier because you're clearly deeply traumatised." I do wonder what happened because he was so scared and I can tell. I felt the same thing.

"I was ten. I insisted on going places by myself when I was younger. It was just a normal day and I was walking past Swindlers Alley when I saw a couple go down it and I was going to warn them to come back when I watch them get shot and robbed. I never ran so fast in my life, I ran all the way back to my house and I was just sick everywhere and then I had to tell my mom what happened. It truly was sickening and I was scared that I'd somehow get tracked down and killed. The next incident happened when I was fourteen. My friend Mehmet and I were ice-skating together on Lake Mead and all of a sudden he fell through, no one tried to help me get him out of the ice apart from one girl and so we held his hand but when someone finally came to help us bring him up, he was dead. He died in our hands and no one helped us. If someone had, he'd maybe still be here today." A few tears roll from his eyes and I hand him a tissue.

"You'll be okay. I know many places you can go for help and they'll do so without questions and they'll offer you resources for free." He nods.

"How do you know about these places?" He asks and I shake my head.

"I still hate you for everything you've done to me." I light another cigarette and start smoking it but he takes it out of my mouth and stubs it.

"They're bad for you." I whip around to him.

"Are you fucking serious? Don't even talk to me about them being bad for me." I say but stand up to stretch as I've been hunched over in this position staring at my feet for hours.

Donovan grabs me and I try to resist but he, for some weird reason, sniffs me.

"I knew someone smelt like cigarettes, I just never thought it would be you." He lets go of me.

"Oh Giana!" Vincent shouts and I see him above us, in the loft.

"Don't play with me Vincent, get out of my house." I say but he just sighs contentedly and leans over the balcony edge.

"Dacre!" Donovan shouts and Dacre comes out and asks what's wrong. "This guy is in Giana's house without her permission and she's told him to get out."

"Interesting. I can get Carter and some other buddies to get him out. I remember you Vincent and you haven't changed one bit. Just know that Carter will not be kind to you." Vincent gets the hint and leaves my house very quickly.

"I guess you don't want Jess and I to be together then?" Vincent says, as if I'm his mother.

"Don't be fucking daft you ugly, moronic, dick. Of course you can be together, just not in my house. Get off my driveway before I beat the hell out of you with my own hands." Vincent walks off and gets into what I assume is his car and just drives off.

"Dacre what do you mean you remember him? How? Why is Carter going to not be nice to him?" Donovan is asking questions that Dacre doesn't want to answer and I can see that he's trying to ignore the question by drinking his coffee.

Dacre looks at me and I shrug.

"He used to live in the area." I say and Dacre runs off before Donovan can ask any more questions.

"So you lived in the area too?" He asks and I nod.

"Of course, we're siblings." I am so confused at that question.

"But I don't know who he is and more importantly, I don't remember you and I'm sure I'd remember you." That definitely didn't sound positive.

"What do you mean by that, Donovan?" I ask as I turn around and look at him again.

"I mean I'm sure I'd remember a girl with a potty mouth, foul temper who could also pack a punch. I just can't put my finger on it." He scratches his head. "Where'd you say you lived?"

I shake my head in amusement. "I didn't tell you where I lived."

I go back inside and lock the door, draw the curtains and leave my room.