Starting Over Anderson || ✔

Fourteen: Feels

87 days A.D.

I blow my nose loudly and my best friends cringe. I don't blame them - I absolutely loathe being sick.

"Here," Keith hands me another wad of Kleenex. I nod to thank him and proceed to blow more snot out of my nose.

"Alright, thank you so much Bob," Rach says into her phone before locking the screen and pocketing it. She grins at me, plopping herself down on my bed next to me. "He says he'll have Bridget cover your shift until you recover."

I nod in thanks to her too. My throat is too sore to talk so I had to ask Rach to inform my boss for me. Coming home doesn't automatically means everything is back to normal. For one, with Isa gone and my mother officially disowning me, I don't have any income. I don't have any choice but to drop out of school and work full time. I'm still kind of studying though - Rach and Keith teach me the things they learn at school when they can. I mean. Education is important.

I work as a waitress at Bob's little diner. Bob is a balding old man with a bulging waist line and a kind smile that reminds me of my grandpa when he was alive. He's really nice to all of his employers and I think it's safe to say that I like my job. The wage is enough to keep me alive so I'm not complaining. Plus, there are staff discounts and promotions so my meals are relatively cheaper.

The only downside to it is the unfixed working schedule. And because of that, I've been attending less band practices, which means fewer gigs with them. Every time I bring up how guilty I am for ditching them, Keith would wave me away and say that it's fine. They understand that I'm not missing out by choice.

"I still don't understand why you don't go to social services, Jen." Rach plops a grape into her mouth. I glare at her. If I'm in a better condition, I would've slapped her hand. Nobody steals my grapes. She returns my glare with a sheepish smile. "I mean, why suffer so much? You could continue going to school and maybe even live with a nice pair of foster parents."

I shake my head. It's just not the same. What if they relocate me to another state? I want to stay here; this house, this neighborhood is all I have left. This is my only connection with my sister. I don't want to risk all of this by going to social workers. Besides, my mother would be sued for supposed child abuse. I might dislike her, hate her even, but I don't want that for her.

"She has her reasons," Keith answers for me since I couldn't. He leans into the chair and shakes the bangs out of his eyes. "Do you want to go out for some food and meet up with the guys?"

I shake my head again. I'm in no condition to see Sam. Actually, I don't want him to see me like this. It's embarrassing. And then a thought clicks. Meet up with the guys? Who else is there besides Sam? I raise an eyebrow at Keith.

He realizes his slip and gulps. "I mean Sam. Meet up with Sam."

I roll my eyes at him. He's such a terrible liar. We've known each other since birth, does he think I won't notice? Doofus. I turn to Rach questioningly. She pales under my gaze.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she wheezes.

Scratch that, they're both terrible liars.

"Spill it," I cough, sounding horrible. Just saying the two words feel like I'm stabbed in the throat.

They exchange a panicked look. "You tell her, I have nothing to do with it," Rach finally says, holding up her hands, palms forward in surrender.