Strike-Out

Jaime's House

Chapter 4

"Hey hey Chapin!" Eva squeals over the phone. It is to early to be this perky, or even listen to it.

"Please Eva, chill." I tell her. "We can still meet at Starbucks." I hear her giggle then say 'yay'. "But," I continue. "Justin and Isaiah have a game today." She sighs.

"Home or away?"

"Away." I answer. "Which means my parents aren't going."

"Yay?"

"Yes yay." I laugh. "Baseball pants are sexy."

"Yay!" She yells. I pull my iPhone away from my ear. "I'll be over in ten."

I roll out of bed... And land on the floor.

I lay there for a few minutes before finding the strength to pick myself up.

I pull my hair up into a messy bun and walk downstairs, stumbling over every step.

When I get to the bottom stair I freeze.

"Morning Sis!" Justin calld. I step up a step so I'm not as exposed. Whatever he is in a good mood for, I'm not going to be the end of it.

"Actually, I'm going to go get ready. Can Eva and I hitch a ride to your game?" I ask. He shrugs.

"Be ready in thirty." He commands. He gave me a look like he wants to talk to me, so I sit down. "I'm really confused right now." He says.

"You're telling me." I look at him sympathetically. He hands me his phone.

"Why can't I beat this level? I've done everything right." I take his phone and stare at the screen. Game Over is written across it. I roll my eyes.

"I really don't know." I tell him. I never was a gamer. I could care less about the digital world. "I'm going to get ready." I hand his iPhone back to him.

I walk back upstairs and into my room. I open my walk-in closet doors. On the right side are my various assortments of summer tops, organized by sleeve length, thanks to my mother. On the left were my pants/shorts and shoe rack. I pull out the only Miss Me shorts I own and toss them over my arm. They are mainly pink floral, and I loved them since I laid eyes on them.

I continue over to my shirts. There are so many. I pull out a thin, white tank with ruffles on the front. It is perfect with the shorts. I reach into the drawer under the rack. I pull out a light pink cami to put underneath.

For shoes, I grabb my sandals with the white ankle straps. It takes almost five minutes to get them on correctly, I only wore them once.

As I travel to the bathroom, I run into Eva.

"Way to make an entrance." I tell her. She just looks at me. Her face was expressionless. "What's wrong?"

"I didn't sleep last night. Like, at all."

"Were your parents arguing again?" I ask. She nods. Eva knows that I knew exactly what she was going through, my parents split when I was five and Justin was eight. My father, an alcoholic, walked out on my mom one night after having an affair. She knew all about it, but he didn't know that. I always wondered if they never split, if my father would have ever changed. I've seen it happen before, but not often. It could've went either way if my father stayed.

I haven't talked to him in almost a year. Sometimes I miss him, sometimes he doesn't even cross my mind. It was his decision to walk out on my mother, on Justin, on me.

I was seven, two years after he had left, my mother sat down with Justin and I. Justin had all these questions left unanswered. I was too young to care at the time.