Boots and Billionaires

14~Birthday?

Maisie's pov
     July 4th

I'd thought getting the phone call this morning would hurt, but truthfully I don't think it's hit yet. The thought that both people responsible for my presence are just.. gone? It's insane. And I feel bad for not blowing a gasket. I've never been one to be so emotional, but within the past month alone, I've cried at least five times, so why not now? Why not when my father has kicked the bucket? I should start journaling my every thought, so I remember what to say when people ask how I'm doing. I could jot down multiple different scenarios of which I'd cried, broken everything in sight when I found out, ignored the world and turned into an evil bitch. But I'd be a liar. I'd been sitting in the truck, legs hanging out of the window, my back on the seats and sulking in my lonely bubble. When I got a call from my dad's girlfriend. 'Im so terribly sorry, baby doll. He couldn't make it past last night.' I laughed to myself when I hung up the phone, hysterically. 11:59 pm. My dad hit it almost perfectly. What was I supposed to do now? Live on with my birthday? Act like I didn't get a call about his impending death. Fuck, I'm going to be miserable all damn day.

"Hey, love. Could you step out of the truck?" Lucille won't know until I'm ready to tell her. It's selfish, but I have to protect her for as long as possible. "I was about to sleep away the day in my cozy hiding spot, maybe tomorrow." Lucille opens the door from the other side and rolls the window down, letting her legs hang out of her side. She lies down with me, her cheek resting against my own, smiling when she looks up at the signatures we'd put on the ceiling of the truck our junior year. "I wish it could be simple again, back when all we had to worry about was making it back inside before the porch light came on." I let out a sigh, biting my bottom lip as I contemplated telling her about dad. "Lucille. I've got something serious to tell you." I pull my arm over my head and lace my fingers in with hers, comforting not only myself, but her too. "Is it about dad?" I bite the inside of my cheek, listening to her breathing get kind of heavy, her hands now fiddling with the ring on my thumb. "It is.. He officially passed at 11:59 last night." She gasps and moves her face to look at mine, as if she'd been expecting me to break down. Though, my stone cold heart has yet to offer me tears for the parent who deserved it most. "A literal minute before your birthday? Oh my shit."

I close my eyes and keep my mouth sewed shut for a minute before I decide that a joke could be good for this moment. "He's trying to one up my mother from the grave. She'd kicked it a month before my birthday. He made sure one of them was always gonna haunt me." I held a sad smile for the first few words, and slowly it fell. Making the sharp pain in my chest heighten and hold on to the heart strings that were simply my dad's to hold. Still, I don't cry. Now, I just stare blankly at the ceiling of the truck. My signature written so sloppy, it almost doesn't look like my name. "I'm glad you're with me, Lucille. I promise to help you through this as I know you will with me." I link my thumb with hers, a small tear flowing down her face, and then two more, and then they become never ending. "Please don't." But she does. She puts her hands in her hair, holding her breath until her face is almost beet red. "Shit, Lucille. Stop." She does this every time something bad interrupts her good feelings. She panics. And doesn't ever seem to stop.

I sit up quickly, my hands immediately going to her face, her now bloodshot eyes staring right into mine. "We've got each other, Luce." I swipe my thumbs across the skin of her cheeks, the tears soaking into my skin. "I barely have you, Maisie. You need to come back." I furrow my brows, staring at her like she'd have an explanation. Nothing else comes though. She just cries and occasionally looks at my face and cries harder. I feel guilty. Have I not been a good friend to her? What exactly have I been doing wrong? I want to fix it. "What do you mean, Lucille? Tell me what you mean by that." Her hands wrap around my wrists and she falls into my chest. Losing herself more and more by the second. "You're killing yourself, Mais. Don't think I don't know. I try. Camdyn tries. Hell, Trystan even made an effort. Coming to Camdyn and I about his concern for you." Her face lifts off of me and she continues to talk. But I suddenly can't hear anything. Nothing seems to be working right anymore, my ears? Gone as far as I know. My vision? So dark, bad enough that I can't recall what color the truck is. My head pounds, as does my heart, right into a brick wall as I breathe forced air through my lungs. Still, no tears manage to fall from my eyes, trying to desperately squeeze my eyes. But everything hurts and I'm so numb all at once, my vision becomes the least of my worries.